Chapter 203
Chapter 203:
One of the men, his hair bleached blond, let out a sharp whistle and called out to Brinley, “Hey, beautiful, all by yourself? How about we give you a really good time p>
Another, wearing a garish floral shirt, chimed in, “Cruising in that car’s gotta be boring. Ditch it and come with us for some real speed p>
Their voices were laced with crude flirtation, clearly meant to provoke. Brinley’s expression darkened. She waved them off and said to Robert, “Ignore them. Just focus on driving safely p>
Robert gave a curt nod, attempting to maneuver away.
But the trio in their flashy sports cars seemed determined to cause trouble, tailing them aggressively and swerving dangerously close. “These punks are way out of line,” Robert muttered, frustration tinged with helplessness.
The three men were driving high-powered vehicles, and both Brinley and Robert knew that a direct confrontation would put them at a disadvantage.
Brinley’s expression turned icy. She despised people who flaunted expensive cars with such reckless arrogance.
Then the man in the black T-shirt caught sight of her, his eyes widening with recognition. “Wait a second. That’s Brinley, isn’t it? The woman who won the international racing championship p>
The other two turned to look, surprise flickering across their faces before twisting into smug disdain.
“Well, would you look at that. Some girl gets a lucky win and thinks she’s hot stuff p>
“Yeah, right. Racing’s a man’s game. A woman winning? No way she did it clean. Mr. Moore must’ve rigged it for her p>
𝗦𝘩a𝘳𝗲 yo𝘶𝗿 fa𝘷𝗼𝘳іt𝖾ѕ 𝘧rо𝗺 𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗇o𝘷еlѕ.cо𝗆
Their words dripped with contempt, aimed not just at her but at women in racing as a whole—especially Brinley, whose recent victory had catapulted her into the spotlight. Her gaze turned glacial. Few things infuriated her more than such blatant misogyny.
“Get out of the way,” she said, her voice low but edged with authority.
The blond man laughed, as if she’d told a bad joke. “Oh, someone’s feisty. You think one race win makes you a big deal? You’ve got some nerve talking to us like that p>
He tapped his steering wheel mockingly and added, “Let me make this clear. On this road, nobody talks to us like that. Today, we’ll show you how real racers drive p>
With that, he jerked the steering wheel, and his red sports car suddenly swerved toward Brinley’s vehicle.
A dull thud echoed as metal scraped against metal. Robert reacted instantly, wrenching the wheel to avoid a full collision. The car skidded in a wild arc before finally stabilizing.
Brinley’s eyes narrowed to slits.
The graze hadn’t caused much damage, but this was no longer mere provocation—it was outright dangerous.
“Robert, don’t engage. Let’s get out of here,” she said firmly.
Robert nodded and pressed the accelerator, trying to break away.
But the three sports cars refused to let up, tailing them closely and repeatedly cutting them off, harassing them without pause.
Brinley’s fists clenched tightly.
She saw through their game. They thought she was an easy target because she was a woman, and her recent fame only made them more eager to knock her down a peg and show off their so-called superiority. Pathetic.
“Mrs. Moore, this isn’t working. They’re too reckless,” Robert said, sweat beading at his brow. Even with his experience, their dangerous maneuvers were pushing him to the limit.
Brinley drew a steady breath, her gaze locking onto a narrow junction ahead. The road was tight, but she knew it led toward the busy city center, where traffic would likely force them to back off.
“Robert, take that junction,” she ordered sharply.
“Got it,” Robert replied, spinning the wheel and guiding the car into the turn.
The three sports cars hesitated, momentarily caught off guard, before surging after them.
The junction was cramped, barely wide enough for two cars to pass side by side.
Without warning, the red sports car slammed on its brakes, stopping dead and blocking the road.
The other two cars pulled up behind, boxing them in.
Brinley’s car was trapped, unable to move forward or back.
Robert stomped on the brakes, stopping just inches from the red car.
Brinley flung open her door and stepped out.
The three men climbed out of their cars, leaning casually against the hoods with smug grins, as if savoring a private show.
The blond looked her up and down, his smile heavy with mockery. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Can’t take the heat? You were acting so tough earlier p>
The man in the floral shirt laughed and piled on. “I told you, women don’t belong in racing. Why even bother? Stay home where it’s safe p>
“So what if you’re a champion?” the buzz-cut man sneered. “You’re still stuck here with us p>