Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine

Chapter 380

Chapter 380: Are you not worried III completely embarrass you out there? she asked, her voice heavy with discouragement.

Nope.

Gordon will deal with the messy bits afterward, Allison replied.

Amya fell silent, realizing the weight of Allisons confidence.

It seemed she really did have everything covered.

Feeling like a weak link, Amya tightened her fists.

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Ill do my best, she said quietly, more to herself than anyone else.

By now, the Underground was bustling with activity.

Many racers milled about, chatting casually.

Sheld their helmets under their arms, others left their faces exposed, but most kept their identities hidden.

Allison gave Amya a firm pat on the shoulder.

You and the others keep watch at the entrance.

Ive got things to handle, she said before disappearing into the crowd.

Allison always had a way of exacting revenge on those who wronged her.

If someone crossed her, she might let it slide, but if they dared to harm the people she cared about... Her thoughts drifted to Emanuel.

Despite his occasional immaturity, he was a kind-hearted and dependable elder who had often looked out for her.

Disturbing his peaceful life was a surefire way to provoke Allisons wrath, and those responsible would soon learn the consequences.

In the Undergrounds inner circle, Allison pulled out a paper-thin mask, slipping it over her face until only her strikingly unique eyes were visible.

Helmet in hand, she approached the line to draw lots, blending in with the other racers.

Nearby, a few racers whispered among themselves.

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Whats so special about this prize? Why are all the bigwigs so desperate to get their hands on it? Its just strinket that used to belong to swoman.

If the prize were a gorgeous girl, now that would be worth fighting for.

Several racers murmured in agreement.

Many were mercenaries from the black market, hired for their expertise in racing and their willingness to snatch the prize by any means necessary.

To protect their identities, they kept their faces hidden beneath masks.

You dont know anything, do you? The bald leader of the group sat smugly to the side, exuding arrogance.

That trinket used to belong to the late wife of the president of the Lloyd Group.

With that in your possession, you could ask Kellan for almost anything.

The bald man spoke as if he had all the answers, casting a disdainful glance at the others.

He leaned back, savoring his sense of superiority.

And as for the beauty you mentioned, he added with a lewd chuckle, Kellans mother was considered quite the looker back in the day.