The Bride Wore Blood At The Finish Line Chapter 01
My brother screamed for ninety seconds inside that burning car.
My fiancé timed it. Then he told me to smile for the cameras.
That cooling system was supposed to be in Ethan’s car. It would’ve kept him alive. Hunter ripped it out and handed it to his precious childhood sweetheart Chloe, like it was a party favor.
Then my brother’s car went up in flames on turn nine.
And Hunter didn’t blink. He kept the champagne popping. He shoved the winner’s jacket into my hands and told me to drape it over Chloe’s shoulders like she’d earned it.
“Your brother wasn’t fast enough. That’s on him, not me.” His fingers curled around the back of my neck. Gentle. For the cameras. “Don’t embarrass me, Nora.”
“Play nice tonight. Wedding’s still on next month.”
I didn’t say a word.
I picked up what was left of Ethan’s helmet, and I sat with it in the morgue until sunrise.
That same night, Hunter and Chloe went public.
Chloe posted a mirror selfie in a champion’s jacket that wasn’t hers: “Some of us were just born for the fast lane. Thanks @HunterVance for putting me in the best seat on the grid. “
Hunter reposted two minutes later: “Talent finds its way to the top. Always.”
I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I tapped the little heart on both posts and left one comment:
“Cheater fucks cheater. Adorable. 🖤”
Then I picked up my brother’s helmet and drove back to the garage to pack his things.
I pushed open the door.
Hunter had Chloe bent over my dead brother’s scorched fire suit. Fucking her on it.
It was past midnight when I got there.
The hallway was dead silent. Then I hit the lounge door and saw them. Chloe’s rhinestone stilettos. Sitting on our shoe rack like she owned the place.
Not the first time she’d crossed a line.
The day this little heiress dropped onto our team with an “investor” badge, I’d warned her. Drivers don’t wear heels around the cars. It’s dangerous. Basic rule.
Hunter shut me down in front of the whole crew. “Don’t push your poor-girl rules on Chloe.”
After that she got worse. Took over my locker. Helped herself to the top-tier gear my brother had bled for. Gear he earned with championship points. With broken ribs. With years on the track.
I pushed back. Hunter shoved me off and told me to remember my place.
“Chloe’s an heiress. She’s happy, she writes checks. Team eats, you eat, your brother eats. Stop being so damn petty, Nora.”
Next time I brought it up, he yanked my race clearance for the season.
Funny, right?
The great Hunter Vance didn’t need Chloe’s money.
He needed the CEO seat at Vance Group.
And the only reason he was even a contender was because Grandma Ellie loved me. He rode into consideration on my coattails.
Today was supposed to be the best day of my life.
I had three surprises ready.
Surprise number one: Ethan wins his ninth championship. He retires on top. No more strapping himself into a coffin on wheels every weekend.
Surprise number two: after months of begging, I’d finally gotten Grandma Ellie to name Hunter the sole heir to the Vance trust. He’d spent years playing the humble grandson, biting his tongue, waiting for it. Control of the family was his whole world. And I had the signed proxy transfer in my back pocket. Her handwriting. Her seal.
But now Ethan was dead.
Surprise number three. I touched my stomach.
I let out a cold laugh and pushed the door open.
Under the dim light, Chloe was on her back on my brother’s scorched fire suit. Hunter had her pinned down. His hand was up her dress. Her mouth was on his.
“Hunter, I finally beat Ethan. The pole position is mine now. Forever…”
Chloe moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck.
My stomach turned. My hand curled into a fist.
I’d called the cops after Ethan died. They told me the truth.
Hunter had waved a five-million-dollar performance bond in my brother’s face. Made Ethan sign a waiver. Voluntary consent to the parts swap. Eight-time champion. Too much faith in his own hands. And he didn’t want me getting crushed under Hunter’s boot, so he signed. Thought his skill could outrun bad hardware.
Then the throttle stuck. And he burned alive.
Hunter heard the door. His eyes flicked to the helmet in my arms. Then he pushed Chloe off, slow and unbothered.
“I told you. Your brother’s actually dead this time. You still had to go see him.”
Cold. Bored. Like he was talking about a dead bug.
Something in me snapped.
I flew at him and slapped him across the face with everything I had.
His head jerked sideways. A vein pulsed at his temple. He kept his eyes down for a beat. Then he looked up at me with that same condescending stare.
“You done? Fine. Out of respect for the dead—yes, Nora. I feel guilty. Happy now?”
I actually laughed.
When Ethan’s car exploded, he told everyone Ethan was faking it. Now my brother was in a body bag, and he was tossing “guilty” at me like pocket change.
My voice came out flat.
“Hunter. We’re done. The wedding is off.”
I stared him down. Said it slow. One word at a time.
“You killed my brother. I’m going to bury you for it.”
Whatever love I had left for him burned out the second Ethan did.
If Grandma Ellie hadn’t been in the picture, I would’ve walked out quietly. No scene. No noise.
But now he’d put his hands all over the last thing my brother ever wore.
“Guilty isn’t enough for you? Nora, I’m being generous. And this is how you thank me?”
His hand shot out and clamped around my wrist. My bones ground together.
He stared me down. Same look he gave me when I told him to stop the celebration.
“Remember who you are. Remember who you’re talking to.”
I ripped my arm free. Walked past him. Yanked the fire suit out from under Chloe.
She shrieked and hit the floor. Hunter’s hands went to her on reflex.
I looked down at the suit. Chloe’s red lipstick smeared across the collar. My brother’s soot burned into the chest.
My eyes stung.
I turned to leave.
“Wait. Is that Ethan’s helmet?”
Chloe’s voice. Sweet as poison.
Hand over her mouth. Wide eyes. Wounded doll routine.
“Oh no. It’s completely destroyed. I’m so sorry, Nora.”
Then she turned to Hunter. Tugged his sleeve. Whined.
“Hunter, baby. Biscuit still needs a new bed. Look at that helmet. It’d be perfect for him. Can I have it? Please?”
My head whipped around. Blood shot straight to my skull.
Hunter’s face darkened. Two long strides toward me. He reached for the helmet.
“Give it.”
His voice left no room to argue.
“Might as well put it to use. A dog bed.”