No Strings Attached

Ryker had never been so serious in his life. He was the epitome of a free spirit, never once entertaining the idea of taking over the family business, but for Clara, he'd walk through fire.

No sooner had he spoken than a chilling, deep voice emanated from behind. "If you think you've got the chops to compete with me, beat me first."

lan, clad in black, stood ominously behind them, pinching a half-smoked cigarette between his fingers. His normally dashing features were tinged with an air of gloom that couldn't be shaken off, and beneath the dark pupils lay an undeniable longing.

He strode up to Clara, his gaze fixed intensely on her as he spoke in a husky voice, "Clara, are you alright?"

his face betraying his usual defiance. "She's

seem ruffled but instead lifted his gaze to Ryker, his tone even, "You've always been into racing, right? I've invested in a racing club with all the latest models. They're in need of a savvy manager. If you're interested, show up there tomorrow."

"I'm not your guy. You think I'm oblivious to your little schemes? You drove Anders away and now you're

his phone, and shot Ryker a slew of racing car images, a smirk playing on his lips, "Like

the slight in lan's eyes. He flashed

Clara, isn't this jerk always giving you

be caught up in their rivalry. Yet she knew of Ryker's passion for racing; owning a racing club had always been

pointed his finger at lan, and declared, "Today, you're going to learn what crushing defeat feels like. Let's get in

know his own strength. I'm merely teaching him a lesson on behalf of his old man. Clara, if I get him on the right