Chapter 87

Isabella, who had come expecting to see Xanthen make a fool of herself, was now gaping to almost drool at the latter’s stunning performance and dashing movements; why was she like him that much?

The track was alive with cheers and the occasional appreciative whistle from professional riders, Caught up in the excitement, Xanthea unwrapped the black bandage tied around her arm and threw it towards the stunned judges.

The soft fabric landed perfectly on one of the judge’s chest, carrying a hint of her light, girlish fragrance.

Onion gently picked it up, held it to his nose, and inhaled deeply. His gaze, filled with deep, unmistakable adoration, seemed to pull her in, as if to engulf her entirely.

Miranda stood at the back of the crowd, her eyes fixed on Xanthen, who shone brightly on the track, almost radiant. A sinister smile slowly appeared on her face.

“Shine while you can, dear sister” She murmured, “For this is the last time you’ll be the center of attention!”

the final incline, wrapping

a biker gang leader threatening to maim him. Phoenix herself stormed in, showed off her motorcycle skills,

been captivated by this scene in the novel and having learned motorcycling from her uncle, Xanthea was

it plummeted from

clutch to slow down, but to her surprise, it was unresponsive after a

stunned, she tapped the brake, but it was equally unresponsive. What was going on? Both the clutch and the brakes were

a Tron light cycle, a globally limited edition

how she tried,

blurring the trees and spectators into

the key, but at such high speeds, doing that would make her

the bike’s speed approached its limit, Xanthea detected an unusual,

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