Filed to story: The Heiress Rises From Ashes Book PDF Free
Brenna instantly pieced their plan together. A cold smirk played on her lips, her gaze sharpening with fierce determination. She ran a reassuring hand over her horse’s mane before raising her whip. “Let’s show them what we’ve got!” she muttered.
As if fueled by her determination, her horse burst forward with sudden, explosive speed, charging between Sylvie’s and Jordy’s horses. The sheer force of its acceleration shattered their blockade, forcing its way through.
Realizing Brenna was about to break free, Jordy and Sylvie acted without hesitation, kicking at Brenna.
Gasps echoed through the crowd, followed by furious shouts.
“Shameless tactics!”
But neither Sylvie nor Jordy cared about fairness anymore. They were not letting Brenna win.
They kicked ruthlessly, aiming directly at Brenna’s horse’s head and Brenna.
Brenna reacted instantly, flattening herself against her horse’s back, her body low. She knew the race rules-any deliberate attack on another rider meant instant disqualification.
Retaliation wasn’t an option. So she snapped her whip again, urging her horse onward. The response was immediate. The horse lunged forward with even greater force, its sheer momentum unsettling Sylvie and Jordy. Their attacks missed completely, and before they could regain their balance, both tumbled off their horses.
They hit the ground hard, rolling multiple times in a chaotic crash.
Vivian, following close behind, saw it unfold. Her breath hitched as she realized the danger-her horse’s hooves were about to come down on them. A cold sweat spread across her body. At this speed, if they were trampled by her horse, they might not survive.
Jordy and Sylvie crashed onto the track, the impact jarring. Just as Jordy lifted his head, he caught sight of Vivian’s horse thundering straight toward them. Instinct took over-he grabbed Sylvie and rolled them both to the side in time.
Had they hesitated for even a second, they would have been trampled beneath the charging horse.
Meanwhile, Brenna had already crossed the finish line, securing first place in the tenth group.
The electronic scoreboard flashed her time-it was identical to Alex’s. The crowd burst into deafening applause. Had it not been for the interference, Brenna could have easily surpassed Alex. Finally, someone had come along who could challenge Alex.
As Brenna slowed her horse to a steady trot, the cameras zoomed in on her. The sight of her poised confidence and striking beauty sent another wave of excitement through the stands. She acknowledged the cheering spectators with a wave before guiding her horse toward the stables at a leisurely pace.
Rosie, finishing in second place, glanced at the scoreboard in disbelief. She had completed the race in twenty seconds-her personal best. But it wasn’t enough. Only the first-place winners advanced to the finals. Despite her efforts, she wouldn’t get the chance to compete alongside her idol.
She was filled with rage, clenching her fists as she watched the audience roar for Brenna. Jealousy gnawed at her insides.
How was Brenna so good at horseback riding?
Hadn’t the Barrett family kept her confined at home, forcing her to focus on nothing but design? Wasn’t she stopped from going out? Hadn’t they denied her access to extracurricular activities?
Rosie believed this didn’t make sense. Brenna seemed like a mystery-one she couldn’t unravel.
Rosie had intended to disgrace Brenna through this race, expecting to see her falter in humiliation. Yet, the plan had backfired spectacularly. Brenna had not only triumphed but had also captured the attention of high society.
The more Rosie dwelled on it, the deeper her resentment grew.
At the stable entrance, Ethan stood waiting, his effortless charm on full display. A warm smile played on his lips as he extended a steady hand to help Brenna down from her horse.
Rosie saw it from a distance, and her eyes darkened with fury. Why? Hadn’t Ethan let her use his horse instead of Brenna? So why was he being so attentive to Brenna now?
Seething, Rosie urged her horse forward, racing toward them. Just as Brenna was about to dismount, Rosie’s horse charged straight at her from behind-completely unnoticed by Brenna.
Ethan, however, saw it. He swiftly wrapped an arm around Brenna’s slender waist and pulled her away, spinning them both to safety.
Rosie’s horse thundered past.
Rosie huffed, frustrated.
She hadn’t managed to knock Brenna down, and now, she had no choice but to pull back her reins and dismount.
Ethan, meanwhile, still held onto Brenna. His grip tightened slightly, noticing the subtle strength in her frame. She wasn’t fragile-something about that intrigued him. He found himself reluctant to let go.
Brenna felt uneasy, not used to this kind of contact. She instinctively pushed against him. “Mr. Mitchell, could you let go of me now?” she asked.
Ethan smiled lightly and released her, though not before steadying her arms to ensure she regained her balance.
Rosie, unable to stand the sight of them being so close, walked over and wedged herself between them, forcefully separating them. Pouting, she turned to Ethan and said, “Ethan, how could you hold her like that?”
Ethan flung her an icy stare. “Who gave you permission to ride my horse?” he asked sharply.
A tense silence fell over the stable. The manager, standing off to the side, paled. Only now, after witnessing the outcome of the race, did he realize the truth-Ethan had intended for Brenna, the first-place winner of this round, to ride his horse, not Rosie.
He had completely misunderstood the instructions earlier. And now, he feared for his job. Seeing Rosie clinging to Ethan, the stable manager took his chance to plead his case with Brenna.
“Miss Harper, I sincerely apologize. Mr. Mitchell originally meant for you to ride his horse. I misunderstood him and assumed he was referring to Miss Rosie Harper. Thankfully, no harm was done-otherwise, I’d be in serious trouble. Mr. Mitchell wouldn’t have let me off so easily.”
Brenna barely reacted. She had little interest in Rosie’s childish theatrics, let alone the misunderstanding over a horse.
Her relationship with Ethan was simple-Ethan hired her to treat his grandfather. As for the horse, that was a separate issue between her and Rosie.
“It doesn’t matter,” Brenna said with a shrug. “I can win on any horse.”
The stable manager sighed in relief, saying respectfully, “Thank you, Miss Harper, for your understanding.”
At that moment, a voice echoed from the entrance. “Miss Harper!”
Brenna turned to see Alex striding toward her.