Chapter 2

Before the gala even ended, Victoria left with Dylan.

She abandoned me to face the room of vultures alone.

I was used to it.

Victoria loved treating me like trash while leaving all her messes for me to clean up.

When the last guest left, I maintained my practiced smile until the doors shut.

Just as I turned to leave, a man in a sharp suit stepped into my path.

"Mr. Donovan, do you have a few minutes to talk?" he asked politely.

I stared at his face, and after a few seconds, recognition hit me.

It was Marcus Kent, the owner of Apex Racing, the top motorsport club in the country.

We sat down at a quiet twenty-four-hour diner nearby.

Marcus cut straight to the chase.

"Mr. Donovan, would you be interested in joining our team as a professional driver?"

I stared at him in disbelief.

"Me? I retired from racing years ago."

"I know," he replied seriously. "I was in the stands during your final Grand Prix. I wanted to sign you back then, but you vanished from the track right after."

He paused, taking a sip of his black coffee.

"Pardon my bluntness, but after what happened tonight, I figured you might be ready for a change."

A bitter smile touched my lips.

Marcus waited patiently without pressing me.

After a long silence, I looked into his eyes with renewed resolve.

"I'll do it. I just need a little time to settle some personal matters."

Marcus stood up and offered his hand. "Welcome aboard."

I shook his hand, feeling a genuine smile for the first time in years.

When I unlocked the penthouse door, Victoria was stepping out of the master bedroom in a silk robe.

The dark hickeys on her neck and the flushed look on her face made it obvious what had just happened.

"You're back just in time," she said casually. "Dylan is in the shower. Go change the bedsheets."

Her effortless arrogance felt like a slap in the face.

When I didn't move, she clicked her tongue in annoyance.

"Hurry up! You know how shy he gets."

I finally moved, but I walked straight toward my own guest room.

"Chase Donovan! Stop right there!" she barked behind me.

I turned to face her, burying the agonizing ache in my chest.

"Call Martha the housekeeper," I said flatly.

"You know I hate having domestic staff in my private bedroom!" she snapped.

A self-deprecating smirk pulled at my lips.

"To you, I'm just an outsider anyway, aren't I?"

My mind flashed back to the day I first caught her cheating.

I had stormed into her corporate office demanding an explanation.

Victoria had merely adjusted her freshly styled hair and looked at me with cold amusement.

"Have you forgotten your place? You're just a dog bought by the Foster family. Stop barking."

A Foster family dog―that was all I had ever been to her.

Back then, when my parents learned the billionaire Foster family wanted me as a live-in son-in-law, they demanded a three-hundred-thousand-dollar dowry to buy my older brother a luxury house and a wedding.

That amount was pocket change to the Fosters.

Victoria only resented me because her grandfather had forced the marriage onto her.

While Old Man Foster was alive, she restrained herself.

The moment the old man passed away, she unleashed every ounce of cruelty on me.

I foolishly thought my unwavering devotion would eventually touch her heart.

In the end, I was just a walking punchline.

Victoria glared at me, her voice dripping with venom.

"At least you finally have some self-awareness. But you're changing those sheets tonight whether you like it or not."

I knew what she wanted.

She just wanted to grind the last shred of my dignity into the dirt.

Without another word, I walked into my cramped room.

I pulled out my suitcase and packed everything I owned.