Chapter 8

Grace underestimated the electric scooter's acceleration. The moment she twisted the throttle, it lurched forward, crashing into a car. She tumbled to the ground, scraping her knee. The sharp sting made her frown.

The car's owner stormed out, furious. "Do you even know how to ride? Are you trying to die? This is a new car! You'll pay for the damages!"

Grace saw the Maserati emblem. Ten thousand dollars wouldn't cover this. A crowd gathered, eager to witness the misfortune.

The man grabbed her sleeve. "Pay up, or I'm calling the police!"

Grace shifted, easing her leg pain. "Is ten thousand dollars enough?"

The man's face flushed. "Do you think I'm a beggar?"

Meanwhile, Ethan's traffic light turned green. His gaze snapped to the scene; the air grew cold as his expression darkened. Just as Tim was about to accelerate, Ethan said, "Go settle it."

Tim's grip tightened. He hesitated, then got out of the car.

The heat was intense; Grace's forehead was slick with sweat. She was about to call for help when a young man approached.

In a professional tone, he said, "Call the traffic police. How much? I'll cover it."

The Maserati owner was about to erupt, but seeing Tim emerge from a limited-edition luxury car worth tens of millions—unique in Druville—his heart skipped a beat. He couldn't afford to offend the owner. Instead, he quickly said, "A hundred thousand dollars. Transfer it."

Tim transferred the money and started to leave, but Grace stopped him. She wore casual sportswear, accentuating her figure. A small beauty mark added warmth to her striking features.

"Um... I don't have the money to repay you now." She glanced at the nearby car, sensing someone inside.

Tim waved her off. "Forget it." His impatience was evident.

Grace approached the car. "Can I have your contact information? I'll repay you."

Mockery flashed in Tim's eyes. She really was committed to this act, huh? Claiming she'd repay! As if a Lambert wouldn't have a hundred thousand dollars!

He smirked. "Ms. Lambert, people are tired of your overacting. Forget it. Stay away. You scream scam and misfortune. Don't bring your bad luck on us."

Grace was taken aback. She didn't recognize him. But why had he helped her? She lowered her eyes, then smiled. "If you dislike me, I need to repay you more. Give me your contact information. If not, I'll ask the person in the car. I'll get it one way or another."

Tim, unwilling to let her meet Ethan, grudgingly wrote down a number.

Grace carefully saved it and bowed elegantly. "Thank you."

Tim was stunned. She'd been rude and indifferent. Had she changed? He scoffed, dismissing the thought. It was likely another ploy for attention. Everyone knew Grace—she was insufferable.