Filed To Story: Watch Out! She's a Mastermind Heiress (Isabella Patton) Book PDF Free
With a quick flick, the host tore open the envelope, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Waylon’s blood shows excessive amounts of banned substances,” he blurted out, and the atmosphere ignited with shock. “Did he really use stimulants?”
“This is outrageous! He must be disqualified and blacklisted!” Those who had believed in the YM Club now felt only disappointment.
Waylon, momentarily stunned, felt the rage boil over within him. “You guys bribed the doctor!” he shouted, his voice shaking with anger.
Wesley shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk on his face. “We didn’t do anything. Don’t make wild accusations, or I might just have to sue you!”
The YM Club members were boiling with rage, their expressions a mix of disbelief and fury. They had always known the HB Club played dirty, but this level of trickery was shocking. “I want a retest at a different facility!” Waylon yelled, his voice slicing through the air.
“Don’t bother. No matter where you go, the result will still be the same—you used stimulants!” Wesley shot back, a smug grin on his face.
Isabella stepped forward, her voice steady. “He didn’t need stimulants! Everyone saw the way Andrew and I performed—no matter how badly he performed, we’d still take home first place!”
Wesley scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re all so full of yourselves. Anything can happen in a race. Who can predict the winner before it’s over? Stop talking nonsense. According to the rules, you should be disqualified and banned from racing for good!” He leaned forward, eagerly awaiting the organizers to reveal the results.
Mercer stood below the stage, a gleam of triumph in his eyes. No matter how talented the YM Club members were, he was determined to secure his team’s victory. Meanwhile, Hamlin shook with anger, shocked by how chaotic the racing scene had become.
“Are you all crazy? Can’t you see what’s happening?” Hamlin shouted, his voice filled with urgency. “If you stay quiet today, tomorrow you could be the ones facing this. Why do we train so hard? Sure, for rankings, but more importantly, for fair rankings! If word gets out about today’s events, how will the world see our racing community? You can practice as much as you want, but one comment from someone else could mean losing your ranking—or worse, getting banned from racing altogether. Is that what you want?”
Hamlin’s deep voice resonated through the venue, striking everyone straight in the gut. The faces around him showed a mix of concern and disbelief. Indeed, there were only a handful of wealthy individuals; the rest were simply hardworking racers.
With the skills the YM Club had shown, it was obvious they didn’t need drugs. Seeing Waylon’s fury, who wouldn’t get it? The HB Club had already seized control of everything, even bribing the doctor! If they ever grew stronger than the HB Club, they’d be dealing with the same nightmare the YM Club was facing today.
“I demand Ronan be reexamined!”
“Yeah, let’s get him tested somewhere else!” Slowly, voices began to rise, one after another, all rallying behind Ronan.
The faces of the HB Club members instantly dropped, and Mercer’s expression turned stormy. “Are you out of your minds? Doubting the race’s authority like that?” He was seething with anger. “Alright, whoever said it, step up. This time, we’ll send Ronan for testing elsewhere. But if he’s found guilty of using stimulants, none of you backing him will ever race again!”
As an investor in the racing circuits, Mercer’s words held weight, and everyone knew it. For a moment, silence hung in the air. A smirk tugged at the corners of Mercer’s lips. One by one, people started stepping forward. Soon, almost half the crowd was on their feet. The sheer number left Mercer humiliated, and the race organizers’ expressions soured as well.
Mercer’s fury only grew, his pride trampled beneath the crowd’s defiance. He roared, “Fine, let’s have Ronan tested right now!”
The HB Club wasn’t lacking in wealthy young elites, and together they had the power to control every hospital in Amport. No matter where Ronan went, the outcome would be the same. Today, he vowed to make these fools pay!
Mercer had ruled the top for far too long to tolerate anyone tarnishing his name. As his declaration rang out, unease crept through the crowd. Could he be planning something behind the scenes?
Waylon surveyed the scene, his heart swelling with emotion. This was the circle he cherished—a place where dreams thrived, and everyone had each other’s backs!
“Thank you all for your support, but there’s really no need to waste time on the test. The results will surely be half the doctors claiming there were stimulants and half denying it,” Isabella interjected, her words cutting through the air with brutal honesty.
With Andrew backing the YM Club, they could sway half the hospitals in Amport, while Wesley and Jada stood firm on the other side, capable of exerting their influence over some doctors as well. This was no longer a question of stimulants; it had evolved into a fierce battle for power.
Everyone understood the stakes, their eyes narrowing into hostile glares directed squarely at the HB Club. Wesley let out a scoff, a hint of disdain in his tone. “You’re warned about getting caught. Maybe you shouldn’t have used it in the first place. Now you’re trying to twist public opinion against us!” he snapped.
“There’s no need for a test. I have evidence that proves Ronan didn’t use stimulants,” Isabella declared, raising her phone with a flourish. It was the sleek, cutting-edge model developed by Howard, and nearly everyone in the venue owned it. Even those who didn’t could easily glance at their neighbors’ devices.
In an instant, the file was in many people’s hands.
Wesley didn’t own that phone, so he leaned over to peek at his teammate’s screen. When his teammate opened the file, a surveillance video flickered to life. It captured Mercer deep in conversation with a doctor. The timestamp showed it was just after the race had concluded. Though the words were inaudible, the sinister look on Mercer’s face was unmistakable.
Wesley couldn’t help but relax. What kind of so-called evidence was this?
Soon, the video shifted to a screenshot of a transaction, revealing Mercer’s assistant transferring a whopping $100,000 to the doctor.
Instantly, the crowd erupted in outrage.
“Even a doctor can be bribed? This is beyond outrageous!”
“If that’s the case, what’s the point of even having the race? Just hand the victory to the HB Club!”
“Don’t give us that! We won’t compete in domestic races ever again—we’ll take our talents abroad!”
Fury coursed through everyone. The HB Club had long been known for their arrogance and notorious reputation in the racing circle. Who would have imagined they would stoop so low? Who could possibly assure them that they wouldn’t be the next victim?
They poured their sweat and tears into their training, only to have their hard-earned championship snatched away and be branded as dopers! The HB Club was truly heartless!
Mercer’s eyes narrowed as he opened the file. He had explicitly commanded the surveillance footage to be wiped clean. How on earth did that woman manage to obtain this transaction screenshot?
With the collective fury of the crowd now fixed squarely on him, Mercer’s expression darkened, leaving him momentarily speechless. Spotting the Racing Association president summoning him from behind, he trudged off. But just as he reached backstage, he received a slap.
The president of the Racing Association delivered a sharp slap to Mercer’s face, his voice booming. “Mercer, I’ve overlooked your past schemes because of how much you’ve contributed to the association. But this time, you’ve gone too far. Today, you’re expelled from the association. Take your team and leave.”
Mercer held his face, stunned by the president’s sudden boldness. Anger flared inside him. “Now you’re trying to play the hero? It’s too late for that! What did you do before? I financed half of these races. Let’s see how you keep the competition going without me.”
“That’s no longer your concern,” the president retorted coolly.
Rage twisted Mercer’s face.
On the stage, the host got word from his superior and announced, “There is now conclusive evidence that Ronan did use performance-enhancing drugs. The whole thing was a setup by the HB Club’s coach, Mercer Lopez. As a result, the HB Club’s ranking is revoked, and they are banned from all future racing competitions.”
The decision came swiftly. The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, relieved that the integrity of the racing world hadn’t been compromised. Meanwhile, the HB Club members were thrown into a frenzy.
“Why is our ranking revoked? We didn’t frame Waylon!” protested Wesley.
Jada quietly added, “What the coach did was wrong, but we had no part in it. We earned our results through hard work and dedication, didn’t we?”
“In racing, you win and lose as a team. Besides, it doesn’t seem like you were completely in the dark about what was going on,” Isabella replied with an indifferent tone.
Waylon clapped his hands in approval. His sister sure had a knack for words—she’d hit the nail on the head. Wesley’s aggressive demeanor earlier had made it obvious he had been in on Mercer’s schemes from the start.
Wesley wanted to argue but could feel the scornful, suspicious stares from the crowd. He clenched his teeth in silent fury.
And so, the HB Club’s ranking was wiped from the records. After the awards ceremony, the five YM Club members stepped off the stage, quickly surrounded by fans.
“You were incredible! Congrats on taking back the top spot!”
“The HB Club was so disgraceful. Good thing you proved yourselves.”
“How about this young lady? Her driving was mind-blowing!” Most of the attention turned to Isabella. She tried to stay hidden behind Waylon, who waved his hand and explained, “This is my friend. She’s pretty introverted and doesn’t enjoy talking much.”
The crowd was puzzled. Could someone with a passion for racing be that shy?
“Can we be friends? Maybe you could teach me some racing techniques?” The crowd eagerly focused on Isabella. She hesitated but then softly said, “You can find a lot of techniques online. That’s where I learned.”
“Alright, then.” At last, Isabella slipped away from the crowd, following Waylon’s lead.
Hamlin beamed with excitement as he looked at them. “You guys were brilliant. The teamwork was flawless, and I’m sure you’ll also crush it in the individual races coming up.”
The captain, with a determined look, said, “Coach, trust us. We’ll get our ranking back and make the HB Club regret ever crossing us.”
Nearby, the HB Club members huddled around Mercer, deep in conversation. As Waylon strolled past, he threw out a casual remark. “Some people are a real embarrassment to the racing scene. Just one rotten apple spoils the whole lot.”
“What did you just say?” Wesley, already on edge, snapped and swung a punch at Waylon’s face.
But Waylon, thanks to the disciplined upbringing from his father Glenn, who had always been tough on his sons, reacted swiftly. Having trained in martial arts from childhood, he easily caught Wesley’s wrist and delivered a quick kick, sending him crashing to the ground. Wesley screamed in agony.
“Wesley!” Jada shouted, her eyes searching Andrew’s face for sympathy. “Andrew, are you really going to just stand by while Wesley gets beaten?”
“He brought this on himself. He’s not a kid,” Andrew said, his voice icy. “And you? Both of you should have the ability to distinguish right from wrong!”
Jada’s face drained of color as she watched Andrew and his group walk away. Slowly, she bent down to help Wesley to his feet.
Wesley brushed off his clothes, fuming with resentment that Andrew hadn’t stepped in.
“Don’t take it too hard. Maybe we really shouldn’t keep going down this path,” Jada said softly, looking at Wesley. Still seething with anger, Mercer turned to his team and said, “Don’t worry about it. If we can’t compete here, so what? Who needs their pathetic competitions? We’ll head straight to the international stage. With your top rankings, you’ll definitely stand out globally. It’s their loss, not ours.”
The expressions on the team members’ faces were mixed and uncertain. “So, under what identity are we going to compete in the international competitions?”