On the track, Ron never managed to pass the Lamborghini in front of him. In the time it had taken for Alex to free himself of the bothering presence of his cousin, the race was close to being halfway through.
Lance returned his focus to the screen, and let out an exclamation:
"Wow, the rumors are true!"
His reaction made the other two around the dark SUV that looked like a military vehicle lift their eyes to the screen. The image was split into three different views, with two-thirds of the cut above displaying the speeding competitors, while the last third below was divided in two equal parts to show the pilots of the two cars with the cameras installed into their cars.
The Lamborghini was running down the track like a shark in water. The handling, the drifts, the control in the bends… The blonde had the Ferrari behind beaten in more than one way, suppressing it thoroughly to keep it unable to make a comeback. It was beyond what an actress who had never touched a sports car could have done.
Observing as the Lamborghini experienced a shift in gear and glided into a corner with a slight screech, Tyler commented with an appreciative nod:
"Not bad."
Alex's eyes lingered on the struggling Ferrari and Ron's tight face, then moved to Sharon's serious and focused expression at the side. Involuntarily, his lips curled into a faint, mysterious smile, and that smile lasted until the last bend, until the last straight line where the speeds that averaged at around one hundred miles per hour till now climbed up to chase a ceiling almost fifty percent higher.
Ron did a gear shift and pressed the accelerator, moving to the side to cling onto the last opportunity. Slowly, or seemingly so in that very small stretch of time, the Ferrari moved past the tail it had been biting for the last minute or two, climbed past the wings, and reached for its tip.
At that moment, the two drivers could see each other, and Ron did exactly that. Turning to the left, he looked sharply at the blond hair that was visible through the window of the Lamborghini, and pressed his foot down even harder with vengeance.
Sharon did not look to the side, but the headlight beams almost beside hers on the track said it all, and with the finish line getting close, her heart started pounding like a drum. Nevertheless, her hands remained steady as she tightened them on the steering wheel, and she pulled out the trump card she had kept for exactly this moment.
Moving her left thumb without looking, she changed the driving mode to a different one for maximum aggression and responsiveness, shifted to a lower gear, making her almost lose her lead, then floored the accelerator for a bound forward, with an instant torque added by the electric motors.
The sudden wave of power propelled her Lamborghini forward. The last inch of lead she had been about to lose to the Ferrari at the side abruptly widened, turning into a distance of half a meter, the exact distance by which she beat Ron in passing the finish line.
The spectators at the start of the track seemed to freeze for an instant. The smooth operation witnessed at the last moment of tight contention left their breath locked in their chests. It was an explosive display that took everyone's breath away, especially when compounded with the surprise that the actress really knew what she was doing.
There was a dip, then it was the avalanche:
"WOOHOO!!!"
"YEAH!!!"
"She did it!!!"
"Damn right, she did it!!!"
"Damn beautiful!!!"
"Ron didn't see that coming!!!"
"She pressed him right onto the floor!!!"
"Hahahahaha!!!"
"WOOHHH!!!"
"I don't regret coming tonight!!"
"Sharon! Sharon! Sharon!"
*Whistle~!!!*
At the back of the crowd, Lance groaned, filled with both regret and relief:
"Dammit, you were right!"
The regret was for his friend who had lost the race, and the relief was for his already poor self who had averted a crisis.
Alex's smile couldn't help but grow bigger. On the screen taken over for the most part by the cars slowing down, Alex ignored Ron's gloomy face. His gaze lingered on the blonde whose beautiful face was glowing with victory, then he pushed himself off the door of his dark beast.
With a smirk, he looked toward the group of sports cars just in front, and opened the door.
"Alright guys, move aside. It's my turn now."
Kris looked back just then, and met Alex's eyes. Reading the amusement in them, his own eyes darkened, and he clenched his fists, not just at the dismissiveness, but more because of the pity he would have to accept if he still wanted to challenge his cousin.
The anger full of resentment he was suffocating with as his chest heaved could not have been more obvious. Gnashing his teeth, he suddenly turned around and yanked the door of his Stradale open to sit inside, before he slammed it shut.
His engine started with an angry exhale like a bull, and he took off with a screech. Fortunately for those around, his control remained steady, and he navigated expertly through the crowd before disappearing amidst the mass, as if swallowed by a dark passage, determined to spit all the fire inside him right on the track.
Shaking his head with a smile while standing on the side step, Alex looked at the display on the giant screen of the Lamborghini Revuelto and the Ferrari SF90 Spider coming back at a more reasonable speed, then sat inside the cab of the dark SUV and slammed the door shut with a heavy sound.
The engine let out a soft but deep rumble, then…
*WLAM!*
The headlights which had been dark till now flared to life, and it became obvious why they had been turned off even before turning around the corner at the entrance. Even at low beams, they were bright, akin to the light from a lighthouse, adding a touch of overbearingness to the darkness behind as they domineeringly caught the attention of the crowd, forcing most of them into squinting their eyes.
Taking a step back, there was only one thought in Lance's mind as he watched Alex slowly drive after his cousin, a thought he voiced with a barely contained envy as Tyler arrived beside him:
"Another custom-made ride…"
The latter glanced at the blond, then shook his head with a slight smile. That was all he could do when his friend was lamenting his poverty. That, and hiding the extent of his amusement:
"What did you drive over?"
"Just a McLaren Artura. And I had to customize it to make it surpass the 750S."
"...It is not better than my old customized Audi, but I still feel like punching you."
"Hahahahaha…"
The curve at the corner of Tyler's mouth rose higher, and turned deeper, burying his gloom for a moment.