Chapter 82. The Race
I was taking deep breaths to calm my nerves down as I was already wearing my racing suit. While making my way to the garage, where my racing car was, I bumped into Aiden Maxwell, Dylan's competitor—now my competitor as well.
"Who could have thought I would live to see the day when a woman is participating in an F1 race?" he mocked, his voice filled with malice.
The thought of training under this guy did cross my mind once when I was pursuing Dylan, but his rotten attitude and stone-age mentality of 'women-are-meant-to-stay-at-home-and-cook' made me shrug that thought off.
"Well, unfortunately, you are still living," I replied and rolled my eyes.
"Now that remark reminds me of Lewiston," Aiden chortled. That was because Dylan's sarcasm did rub off me.
"Aren't you too happy that Dylan isn't participating?" I retorted.
"As if that guy needs to. He can get direct access to the International championship," he huffed, his jealou
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