Chapter 66

Brinley swiped through her tablet, checking the track for the upcoming exhibition race.

"Mrs. Moore?" The construction foreman's voice broke her focus. "The workers said they need to adjust the slope. Do you want to double-check?"

Snapped back to the moment, Brinley quickly flipped her tablet face down on the table.

"I just sent you the measurements. Make sure to stck to them." Her voice was strained, betraying her effort to stay composed.

"Got it," the foreman replied, oblivious to her unease, and turned to relay the instructions.

Alone under the canopy, Brinley lifted her tablet again, the screen still open to the race invitation.

Her finger lingered over the "Reply" button, wavering.

Should she go?

Attending meant slipping back into her racing suit, grasping the steering wheel, and possibly facing Austin's probing gaze.

Skipping it felt like turning her back on the spark reigniting within her.

The moment she saw the invitation, her long-dormant passion for racing roared back to life, as vivid as it had been years ago at the starting line.

She wouldn't sacrifice that fire-not for anyone, not for the illusion of stability.

Taking a deep breath, Brinley tapped the screen, typing. "I'm in."

That evening, when she was back at the villa, the butler had dinner ready.

Austin hadn't returned yet. Brinley sat at te dining table, picking at her food, her thoughts consumed by the race. She needed to rebuild her skills-stamina, reflexes, the instinct for handling a car. Every piece had to be reclaimed.

After her shower, she slid into bed, pulling the covers over her as she opened her tablet to the racing simulator she hadn't touched in years.

The familiar interface sparked a rush of emotion, causing her eyes to well up with tears.

A virtual red racecar waited at the starting line, the name "Rosara" gleaming on its side.

The engine's low hum stirred her muscle memory.

Brinley's fingers danced across the virtual controls-turning, accelerating, overtaking.

Her first lap was sluggish, a full ten seconds off her best times.

Gritting her teeth, she practiced until 2 a.m., finally hitting a consistent lap time within her goal.

Exiting the app, she erased her browsing history and tucked the tablet into the nightstand drawer.

Slipping out of bed for water, she froze at the bedroom door, spotting Austin at the end of the hall in loungewear,holding a glass of water.

"Can't sleep?" His voice cut through the stillness, clear and calm.

Brinley's pulse spiked. She stretched, feigning grogginess. "No, a bit thirsty."

Austin approached, offering her the glass of water. "Is the project stressing you out? You seem exhausted."

His eyes lingered on her slightly reddened ones, concern flickering in his gaze.

"It's fine, just a bit busy," Brinley said, taking the glass. "Why are you awake?"

"I was sorting some documents." Austin studied her for a moment. "I heard noises from your room earlier."

Brinley sipped the water, forcing calm. "It was probably the wind rattling the window. I slept pretty soundly,so I didn't hear anything."

"Really?" Austin's brow arched, but he didn't push. He just brushed a strand of hair from her forehead."You can go back to sleep. If the project is too much to handle, let Miguel pull a team together to help."

"I've got it handled," Brinley said, avoiding his eyes as she turned back to her room. "I'm heading to bed."

"Brinley," Austin called softly.

She glanced back, her heart pounding.

"If something's weighing on you, I'm here," he said gently. "You don't have to carry it alone."

She nodded silently and hurried into her room.

In the days that followed, Brinley led a double life.

By day, she was the sharp, efficient project leader-checking data on-site, negotiating with vendors in boardrooms, and charming contacts at social gatherings.

By night, she trained in secret.

At 5:30 a.m., before the sky lightened, she slipped into the gym, running intervals on the treadmill and powering through core workouts, her clothes drenched with sweat.

At 11 p.m., after Austin was asleep, she locked herself in her bedroom, honing her skills on the simulator.

One morning, as she crept back from training, she found Austin on the sofa, holding her fitness tracker, its screen still displaying her recent workout stats.

"Where were you?" His voice, rough from sleep, carried a quiet intensity as his eyes scanned her sweat-soaked gym clothes.

Brinley's heart raced, her mind scrambling. "Just did some stretches in the gym. Too much desk time makes my back ache."

Austin said nothing for a long moment, setting the tracker down.

"You haven't been sleeping well lately," he said abruptly, his voice low and steady."Are you overwhelmed with the project?" "Just a little," Brinley answered evasively, snatching her fitness tracker from the table. "Things will get better soon. I'm heading to the company now."

Clutching the tracker, she hurried out.

Only after stepping outside the villa did she let out a long, heavy breath.

Brinley didn't want Austin to know about her participation in the exhibition race.

She wasn't prepared to reveal that part of herself to him yet.

For now, she decided, it was best to keepo him in the dark about her secret identity.