The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 386

Quentin’s lips curled into a smirk as he shot a cold glance across the field at Wade. His tone was taunting. “I don’t care how you do it, just make sure that bastard Wade loses—badly.”

Last time, Wade had beaten him in the race. This time, at the national finals, Quentin was determined to grind the guy into the dust.

A teammate, eager to please, beamed as he slapped Quentin on the back. “Don’t worry, Quentin. Wade doesn’t stand a chance against you.”

Meanwhile, Wade happened to look Quentin’s way. He raised an eyebrow, and without missing a beat, flipped Quentin the middle finger. Then, grinning, he silently mouthed something in Quentin’s direction.

Someone on Quentin’s team whispered, “What did he say? Sounded like some kind of proverb or something.”

“Shut up,” Quentin snapped, his expression dark. He ignored the question, but he knew exactly what Wade had mouthed: “Loser.”

That son of a bitch.

On Wade’s side, he was laughing. “Look at him fuming over there. Careful, or he’ll give himself an ulcer.”

The rest of Wade’s team burst out laughing, some nearly doubled over.

Curry Black was grinning ear to ear. “Man, Wade, you’ve got a wicked tongue.”

Wade just shrugged, unbothered. “Can you blame me? Quentin’s a jerk and deserves every bit of it.”

Curry fiddled with his handheld game console and said, “You beat Quentin in the last race, so he’s probably been stewing ever since. Now you’re going out of your way to join this competition just to mess with him. I’ve got a feeling things between you two are only going to get uglier.”

Wade shrugged again, clearly unconcerned. “Let them. I couldn’t care less. As far as I’m concerned, that guy’s my sworn enemy.”

“Yeah, that CrimsonFirst,” Curry confirmed.

Wade whistled low. “No way. That guy never bothers with tournaments like this. Why’s he coming out now?”

Curry recalled something he’d read online. “Word is, CrimsonFirst’s older brother is a huge e-sports fan. Rumor has it, he’s entering the tournament to help his brother fulfill his dream.”

Wade let out a slow breath. “Well, that settles it. Quentin’s definitely not getting the world championship this time.” He didn’t really care about the title himself—as long as Quentin didn’t win, he was happy.

Curry just shook his head.

For as long as anyone could remember, Quentin and Wade had been notorious rivals. No matter what one of them did, the other was always there to stir up trouble or crash the party. After all these years, nothing had changed.