Chapter 49

Colin's brow knit as if he meant to argue, but when his eyes met Austin's glacial stare, the retort died in his throat.

With forced ease, he remarked, "Milly crossed the line. I owe you an apology on her behalf, Mr. Moore."

Austin didn't soften. "You should keep your wife in line. It would reflect poorly on you if she continues to...embarrass herself," he said flatly, tightening his hold on Brinley and steering her away without a backward glance.

Once they reached a quiet terrace, Brinley released a sharp little huff of annoyance.

Austin slipped off his suit jacket and settled it over her shoulders, the fabric carrying his warmth and chasing off the chill in the night air.

"Does that count as revenge well served?" he queried, leaning one elbow against the railing while his gaze drifted to the glowing track lights in the distance. "People like Milly deserve to be put in their place."

Brinley let out another huff, irritation still tugging at her expression. "I asked you to stay put, but you insisted on coming anyway."

"Alright, alright, blame me," Austin sighed with a helpless curve of his lips before steering the conversation elsewhere. His tone grew quieter, more probing. "You and Colin... there truly isn't any possibility left between you?"

Brinley froze for a moment, caught off guard by the unexpected question.

She gave a small shake of her head and said with quiet certainty, "There is nothing left between him and me.We're done. From now on, my only focus is my company-I don't want to be distracted by anything else."

Austin didn't answer, though a faint, knowing curve touched his lips.

They lingered on the terrace side by side, their eyes drawn to the glowing track below. The breeze carried the low hum of engines across the night air, wrapping them in a strangely intimate stillness. Brinley's mind drifted unbidden to years ago, when she sat behind the wheel of a race car.

The helmet pressed tight around her head, the roar of the engine deafened her ears, and in the mirror loomed a relentless rival chasing her down. Ahead, the finish line's blinding lights cut through the darkness,urging her forward.

Austin's voice pulled her back from the memory."What's on your mind?"

"Nothing important," Brinley said with a fleeting smile. "Just a flash of inspiration for how the track design could take shape."

Austin arched a brow, a trace of amusement flickering in his gaze. "Oh? Want to let me in on it?"

Brinley leaned forward, her eyes alight. "I'm thinking of installing a glass curtain wall between the commercial district and the track... and redesigning the go-kart park into a scaled-down professional circuit..."

Her words tumbled out faster, her excitement bubbling over, completely unaware of how intently Austin was watching her.

The more she spoke, the more it struck him-when Brinley talked about racing and design, she radiated a quiet fluency, as if this world belonged to her bones rather than something studied on paper.

"You've got some bold ideas," Austin interjected smoothly, though his tone carried an edge of scrutiny."Funny thing, though-you talk about track parameters as if you've lived them. You even quoted the safety threshold for centrifugal force without hesitation."

Brinley's breath caught, the rush of enthusiasm halting as a sharp jolt shot through her chest.

Swept up in her excitement, she revealed technical details-far beyond what any ordinary designer would know.

"I dabbled in it before," she noted lightly, lifting her glass for a slow sip of wine to hide the sudden tightness in her chest. "Some of it seemed useful, so I committed it to memory." Austin didn't challenge her explanation, but his gaze lingered, steady and unyielding.

The weight of it made her skin prickle. Just as she searched for an excuse to slip back into the crowd, the project manager appeared.Grayson came toward them with a glass of wine, his smnile wide and his cheeks flushed from drink.

"Mr. Moore, Mrs. Moore-apologies for the delay. I was tied up in a discussion with a few experts about the track planning. I didn't realize you'd arrived already."

"There's no need for apologies, Mr. Deleon,"Austin remarked, taking his hand in a firm shake. His voice carried a composed warmth. "My wife has a keen interest in this project, so I thought it best to bring her here."

Grayson let out a warm laugh, but his eyes held a sharp edge as they flicked toward Brinley. "Mrs. Moore,you've accomplished quite a lot for someone so young. I even heard from Mr. Palmer that your team has been coming up with some bold ideas. Still, in the end, only the best plan will take the prize, won't it?"

The implication was clear enough-Colin had already been speaking about her behind closed doors, and whatever he said likely wasn't flattering.

Brinley drew a breath, ready to respond, when Colin smoothly cut in, "Mr. Deleon, both my team and Brinley's are approaching this with genuine sincerity. Perhaps we should use this chance to go over the project's exact requirements together?"

His sudden appearance came with Milly on his arm. She had regained her composure, but her simmering resentment still glimmeredwhenever her gaze landed on Brinley.

Grayson, sensing the undercurrent, curved his lips in a diplomatic smile. "That sounds reasonable. A few other designers are here as well-let's all sit down and exchange ideas."

The group began filing toward the meeting room. Brinley stayed close to Austin's side, fully aware of Colin's gaze brushing over her more than once, and Milly's quiet hostility prickling like a thorn at her back..

What appeared to be a polite discussion carried an unmistakable edge, the tension threaded through every word before the real conversation had even begun. Colin's assistant fired the first shot as soon as the meeting began. "Mrs. Moore, most of your work has been in commnercial real estate. A racing project is highly specialized-don't you think you're out of your depth?For example..."

Brinley lifted her head, her gaze sharp and unwavering. "I've done my research, thanks. FIA Grade 2 circuits require honeycomb aluminum buffer zones. My team has been studying these standards for quite some time."

She flipped open her file, tapping a page with her fingertip. "Here's our preliminary cross-section. The curve has a twelve-degree incline-exactly in line with international regulations. If you'd like, my assistant can forward you the detailed specs."

The dense string of technical terms landed like blows, leaving the young man gaping. Color crept up his neck, and for a moment he was too stunned to speak.

Colin smoothly stepped in. "You've certainly done your homework, Mrs. Moore. But a racing-themed real estate development isn't only about the track. You also have to manage commercial operations-balancing professional events with public attractions, securing sponsors, and creating a sustainable business model.That kind of experience doesn't come from blueprints alone."