Rise from Fire and Steel

The race had a dedicated rescue team to handle such accidents, ensuring that both the competition and the award ceremony proceeded as planned.

So my car plunging into the sea did not in any way hinder the championship presentation.

Alanna seemed about to ask something, but held herself back.

A staff member answered instead, “It’s still unclear what happened, and the live broadcast didn’t have time to switch to his feed.

“But from the video just now, it seems the car that fell was number thirteen.”

Alanna exhaled and shifted her gaze.

I realized the truth then.

Last night, I had mentioned to Alanna that I was assigned number fourteen, the last driver, but before the race, I was suddenly given the thirteenth spot.

The driver’s car had a problem and needed emergency repairs, so he wanted to swap positions.

I agreed without hesitation.

It had been abrupt, and I hadn’t told Alanna.

Yet the large screen had already been refreshed. Anyone paying attention could have realized that number thirteen was me.

The staff hurried away, and some reporters rushed to cover the accident live.

Alanna and Jack, following the reporters’ instructions, posed for photos before returning to the lounge.

As soon as she entered, Alanna pulled out her phone.

She frowned, perhaps noticing I still hadn’t contacted her.

Usually, after every race, we sent each other a message to ensure the other was safe.

Most of the time, I texted first, and she would reply only after a long delay.

Jack seemed aware of this habit.

Seeing her hesitation, he asked softly, “Did Lewis contact you?”

Alanna shook her head. “It’s been nearly an hour since the race ended, and there’s still no news from him.”

“Could he be angry?” Jack asked.

“After all, it’s because of me that he didn’t win the championship.”

“I’ll explain to him later. You helped me with this—I can’t let it harm you.”

Then he pretended to murmur to himself, “But on the other hand, Lewis has already won so many championships.

“Even if he failed this time, he shouldn’t be so angry that he doesn’t contact you. After all, you’re his fiancée.”

Alanna stiffened. It was clear his words had struck a chord.

Jack took out his phone. “Should I apologize to him first?”

“Apologize for what?”

Alanna snatched the phone and slammed it face down on the table.

“Let him be angry if he wants. We won’t get married then.

“Weren’t you going to take me out for dinner after the race?”

“Sure, let’s go then.”

Alanna grabbed her bag and moved to leave.

At that moment, I saw clearly the triumphant smile on Jack’s face.

I felt nauseated and didn’t want to watch, yet my soul remained tethered to Alanna.

On the way out of the race venue, I saw that the wreckage of my car had been recovered and was parked on the open ground.

The car had been mine for eight years, from my earliest days in racing, through more than sixty competitions, large and small.

It should have appeared as usual in glossy photos on the champion wall.

Now, it lay scattered, pitiful, and lonely under the gaze of the crowd.

Just like me.

Alanna glanced at it, hesitated for a moment, then said in a low voice, “Why do I feel like that car belongs to Lewis?”

Jack glanced over.

“No way. You must be mistaken.”