Chapter 6 - The Fake Engagement
The dining hall erupted into absolute bedlam.
Phones flashed as dozens of students immediately began texting and posting the explosive news.
Chloe stood frozen, Asher’s arm firmly wrapped around her waist.
She forced a smile, though her mind was screaming in panic.
Preston looked as if he had been slapped across the face.
His mouth opened and closed silently, his grand revelation completely derailed.
"Engaged?" Preston finally sputtered, his face turning a dangerous shade of purple.
"You've known each other for two days!"
Asher chuckled smoothly, kissing the side of Chloe's head.
"When you know, you know," Asher replied effortlessly.
"Marcus Thorne finalized the paperwork this morning."
No one in that room would dare question the power of the Thorne estate.
Chloe leaned into Asher, playing the part of the smitten fiancée.
"Thank you," she whispered so only he could hear.
"Don't thank me yet," he murmured back.
"We still have to survive the Gauntlet."
The Gauntlet was the academy’s most brutal, unsanctioned tradition.
It was an illegal street race held on the treacherous winding roads of the nearby mountain.
Preston, recovering his composure, slammed his hands on the table.
"If you want to claim a spot at the top of this school, Hayes, you have to prove it," Preston challenged.
"Tonight. The mountain pass. Pink slips."
Asher didn't hesitate.
"You're on," he agreed coldly.
Throughout the afternoon, Chloe felt completely out of her depth.
She found Asher in the school's auto shop, working on his battered motorcycle.
"You can't race him on that," Chloe warned, crossing her arms.
"Preston drives a custom-tuned Porsche, and he knows those roads better than anyone."
Asher wiped grease off his hands and smirked.
"I'm not driving the bike," he said.
He pulled a tarp off a vehicle in the corner of the garage.
Underneath was a sleek, heavily modified black Mustang, built for raw power and dangerous curves.
"I need a navigator," Asher said, looking directly at her.
"If we are going to sell this engagement, you need to be in the passenger seat."
Chloe swallowed hard, terrified of the risk but knowing she had to commit.
"Fine," she agreed.
Later that night, the mountain pass was lined with the headlights of a hundred luxury cars.
The elite students of St. Jude cheered as Preston's Porsche and Asher's Mustang pulled up to the starting line.
Chloe buckled her racing harness, her heart pounding against her ribs.
The starter girl dropped the flag, and the tires screamed against the asphalt.
They shot forward into the darkness, the trees blurring past them at terrifying speeds.
Asher was an incredible driver, drifting through the hairpin turns with unnatural precision.
They were neck and neck with Preston as they approached the final, most dangerous cliffside curve.
"Brake!" Chloe screamed as the edge approached rapidly.
May you like
Asher slammed his foot onto the brake pedal.
The pedal hit the floor with no resistance whatsoever.
