Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Chapter 138: Chapter 138: Quentin Blackwood’s Girlfriend?

"Ivy, Ivy!" Nina Scott’s voice called out from a short distance away.

Ivy Sherwood walked over. "Nina, are you okay?"

"I should be asking you that! Are you okay? You scared me to death when you swerved into me." Nina Scott was still shaken.

"I’m fine. Did something happen to your car too? The brakes were completely useless," Ivy Sherwood said.

Nina Scott nodded. "Were our cars tampered with? Let’s go check."

Her speed had been too high, so she only realized something was wrong when she was halfway through the race.

But she couldn’t slow down at all. Thankfully, Ivy Sherwood’s collision had given her a chance to buffer her speed.

"Did you see who was driving that red car just now?"

Nina Scott glanced over. "Isn’t that Silas Blackwood’s car?"

Nina Scott had been on the track herself, so she didn’t know what had happened on Ivy Sherwood’s end.

Nina Scott asked, confused, "What’s wrong? You think Silas Blackwood did this?"

As she spoke, Nina Scott found it more and more plausible. "It must have been Silas Blackwood! If not him, then Anna Nash. Who else knew we were going to race here?"

"It’s not confirmed yet. Let’s not jump to conclusions. First, let’s check the car."

Ivy Sherwood had been busy looking for the driver and hadn’t checked the car immediately. Now, as the two of them stood in front of it, they discovered that the brake pads had been coated with a powerful corrosive agent. The brakes were completely severed.

As they were driving, the power and heat caused the agent to corrode the lines faster, which is why their brakes failed halfway through the race.

"Who the hell did this? This is vicious! They were trying to kill us!" Nina Scott cursed.

If they hadn’t been lucky, they probably would have died here today.

"It must be that ’white lotus’ Anna Nash! Come on, Ivy, let’s go settle the score with them!"

When they were picking their cars, only Anna Nash and Silas Blackwood were watching. Who else could it have been?

"I don’t think it was Anna Nash. Silas Blackwood is shameless, but he wouldn’t stoop to murder. Anna only has eyes for Silas, so she probably didn’t have the time. Besides, to prepare such a potent corrosive agent... this seems premeditated. Us running into them was just a coincidence."

Ivy Sherwood offered her simple analysis, but Nina Scott was still completely lost after hearing it. "Then who do you think it is?"

"Didn’t someone deliberately come looking for trouble right when we arrived? She left without making anything clear. She definitely came for more than just confronting me."

It clicked for Nina Scott instantly. "Are you talking about Cheryl Yates?"

"Let’s go find her!"

"Wait." Ivy Sherwood grabbed Nina Scott. "We have no proof. Do you think she’ll confess?"

"Then what do we do? They must have destroyed all the evidence by now. Are we just going to let Cheryl Yates get away with it?" Nina Scott couldn’t stomach this.

Besides, they were lucky this time. What about the next?

Ivy Sherwood thought for a moment, then leaned close to Nina Scott’s ear. "Of course not. Since Cheryl Yates went through this trouble, she’s definitely sticking around to watch the show. She must still be here. Here’s what we’ll do..."

Nina Scott nodded. "Okay. Let’s give Cheryl Yates a taste of her own medicine. We’ll scare the hell out of her!"

But before that, Ivy Sherwood actually wanted to find out who was in the red sports car.

She had a feeling it wasn’t Silas Blackwood.

Even though the race was over, people in the stands were still buzzing about the red and gray cars.

"I remember that red car belongs to Young Master Blackwood, right? He did a couple of laps earlier."

"I remember it being Young Master Blackwood too, but when he did those two laps before, he wasn’t nearly this skilled. Is he a dark horse?"

Julian Grant glanced around but didn’t see Quentin Blackwood.

Why did he get the feeling that the person in the red car wasn’t Silas Blackwood, but Quentin Blackwood?

Although they had rarely seen each other since Quentin Blackwood left Lustre, he felt his brother was more than he seemed. That ostentatious display of racing just now... and from his perspective as an insider, it was clearly a move to save Ivy Sherwood. Who else could it be but Quentin Blackwood?

After parking the car, Quentin Blackwood went straight back to the stands. His expression was as indifferent as ever, and he was even still dressed in a suit.

It was as if he wasn’t the one who had just furiously lapped the track three times. Even his combed-back hair wasn’t the slightest bit messy.

The moment he returned, he heard a voice call out, "Quentin Blackwood!"

Quentin Blackwood lifted his eyes and saw a woman running toward him.

A flicker of surprise did cross his eyes, but it vanished quickly. "Joy Sheridan?"

Joy Sheridan came right up and hugged Quentin Blackwood’s arm. "Long time no see! Did you miss me?"

Joy Sheridan was practically draped all over Quentin Blackwood, wishing she could throw herself entirely into his arms. She breathed in his scent—it was still so familiar, but... there seemed to be a faint trace of perfume mixed in now.

"Joy Sheridan!" Quentin Blackwood said her name in a warning tone, trying to pull his arm away.

But Joy Sheridan held on tight. "What’s wrong? You’ve been in Lustre for so long, and I couldn’t even get in touch with you. What’s so great about a backwater place like Lustre, anyway?"

Then, she smiled. "I heard you were busy, so I didn’t want to disturb you. Did you know I was coming to Lustre? That I’d be here? Did you come here specifically to find me?"

Joy Sheridan was thrilled, first because she had seen Quentin Blackwood, and second because she believed he might have come here specifically to see her.

"Let go!" Quentin Blackwood’s voice was tinged with a warning and a hint of impatience.

Joy Sheridan knew about Quentin Blackwood’s mysophobia; she knew he hated being touched by others.

’But I just have to touch Quentin Blackwood. It’s the only way to show I’m different from everyone else.’

’Quentin Blackwood is a gentleman. Even if he’s displeased when someone touches him, he’d never say anything harsh to a woman. He has impeccable manners.’

’Anything Quentin Blackwood can’t handle, I’ll handle for him.’

’I’ll get rid of all those delusional women fawning over him, so they won’t cause him the slightest bit of trouble.’

’Especially that woman with the surname Yates. Who does she think she is, daring to covet Quentin Blackwood?’

Ivy Sherwood and Nina Scott were coming up from the parking lot, ready to find Cheryl Yates. But before they even reached the stands, Ivy Sherwood spotted two figures in the distance.

Ivy Sherwood stopped in her tracks. Nina Scott paused for a second. "What is it, Ivy?"

Ivy Sherwood pressed her lips together. Nina Scott followed her gaze and saw Quentin Blackwood not far away.

And there was a woman plastered to his side.

Neither of them recognized the woman, but their first impression was that her relationship with Quentin Blackwood was anything but ordinary.

Nina Scott and Ivy Sherwood had never seen any woman be so intimate with Quentin Blackwood, with her entire body pressed against his.

She looked just like his girlfriend.

"Let’s go," Ivy Sherwood said, looking away after just a single glance.

"Huh? We’re leaving already?" Nina Scott hadn’t processed the situation yet, but seeing Ivy Sherwood walk away, she quickly hurried after her.