The billionaire's forbidden pit stop

Episode 9: The Beast Unleashed

The cool night air did nothing to ease the sudden, violent chaos erupting at the back of the estate.

Adrian stood in the doorway of the bedroom, his eyes locked onto the unconscious guard slumped on the floor. His jaw clenched so tightly the bones ached. Before he could even call out to the rest of his security detail, a frantic shout echoed from the outer driveway.

"Hey! Stop right there! Stop!"

Adrian sprinted out of the house, his heavy boots slamming against the concrete. Through the dark shadows of the manicured lawn, he saw Asaliya. She was running with a heavy limp, her sprained ankle clearly causing her agonizing pain, but she didn't slow down. Just outside the perimeter gate, a nondescript sedan suddenly screeched to a halt, its headlights cutting through the darkness. The passenger door flung open.

Asaliya threw herself inside, slamming the door shut.

Two of Adrian's outer guards sprinted toward the vehicle, their hands reaching for their tactical gear, ready to pursue the car. They were seconds away from launching a full-scale hunt.

"Stop!" Adrian roared, his voice cutting through the night like thunder.

The guards instantly froze, turning to look at their boss in confusion. Adrian stood under the dim driveway lights, his chest heaving, his dark eyes staring at the taillights of the vehicle as it sped away into the night, disappearing around a distant bend.

"Sir?" the chief guard asked, breathless. "Should we deploy the chase vehicles? We can intercept them before they hit the main highway."

"No," Adrian growled, his voice dangerously low. "Let her go."

He turned back toward the house, his face a terrifying mask of silent, simmering rage. He walked back inside, stopping in the hallway to look down at the guard Asaliya had knocked out. The man was slowly groaning, a nasty, bleeding gash running down the back of his skull where the heavy lamp had struck him. Adrian’s fists clenched at his sides.

This was not going to end in a good way. She had escaped, she was injured, and she was fueled by a toxic, deep-seated hatred for his bloodline.

The sound of soft footsteps drew his attention. Felix walked out of the living room, rubbing his bleary eyes. He had left his precious orthopedic pillow on the sofa, and he looked completely disheveled. Ren was already fast asleep on the lounge chair inside, snoring loudly, completely dead to the world after the exhausting day of qualifying.

Felix looked at the bleeding guard, then at Adrian’s furious expression, and then out toward the open driveway. "What the f**k was that noise?" Felix asked, his French accent thick with sleep. "Who was that girl running out of here? Adrian, don't tell me you were having a sneaky, fun girly night before we crashed your place. Because if you were, your taste in women is extremely violent."

Adrian let out a harsh, bitter breath. "That was the reporter. Milli."

Felix’s eyes instantly snapped wide open, all traces of sleep vanishing from his face. "Wait... what?" he stammered, his jaw dropping. "The photographer? The one who has been writing those terrible articles about us?" He looked at the bedroom, then back to Adrian. "Don't tell me... did you actually kidnap her, Adrian?! *Putain de merde*, are you completely out of your mind?!"

"What the f**k was I supposed to do, Felix?!" Adrian snapped, his anger finally spilling over. He stepped closer, towering over his friend. "She was systematically trying to destroy my reputation. She dragged you and Ren into the dirt. She wasn't going to stop!"

Felix groaned, running a hand through his messy hair, blaming Adrian with a look of pure disbelief. "So your brilliant solution was to abduct a journalist? Adrian, you are a world-famous billionaire! You can't just throw people in closets because they write mean things about you! That is highly illegal, you i***t!"

"You don't understand," Adrian hissed, his voice dropping into a dark, protective whisper. "She has a target on my back. It’s personal."

"Then let it be personal!" Felix argued, waving his hands dramatically. "Do nothing! That is what you do with press! You ignore them. She is a freelance writer, Adrian. Eventually, she will get tired, she will run out of stupid rumors, and she will move on to find someone else to bother. You don't feed the fire by locking her up!"

Felix had no idea about the tragedy behind Asaliya’s eyes. He didn't know about Arthur Novak, the destroyed homes, or the mother who had been taken away and killed. He didn't know that Asaliya’s hatred was a fire that would never, ever burn out on its own.

Adrian let out a long, heavy sigh, the exhaustion of the entire weekend weighing heavily on his broad shoulders. He didn't have the energy to explain the dark, twisted history of his family to Felix. Not tonight.

Felix’s expression softened slightly as he looked at his friend’s defeated posture. He sighed, patting Adrian on the shoulder. "Come on, big guy. Go to sleep. Tomorrow is the race. You started from the back of the grid because of that crash. You need your brain fully functional if you want to salvage any points."

Adrian didn't argue. He gave a silent, rigid nod, and the two of them finally headed to their rooms, the heavy silence of the house settling in once more.

The roar of the engines was deafening as the grand prix got underway the next afternoon.

But for Adrian, the race was a brutal, exhausting uphill battle. Starting near the back of the grid because of his disastrous qualifying crash, he had to fight for every single inch of asphalt. He pushed his *Novak-GTI* to its absolute absolute limits, overtaking car after car in a display of aggressive, high-risk driving. But the damage had already been done. Despite a masterclass in overtaking, he simply ran out of laps.

When the checkered flag waved, Adrian crossed the finish line in P5.

To make matters worse, Mick—his bitter rival from the previous season—had taken an easy, flawless victory from pole position, standing proudly on the top step of the podium. Ren had suffered a nightmare of a race; the Novak team had struggled heavily with tire degradation and a faulty telemetry sensor, leaving Ren languishing outside of the points.

The only saving grace for their circle was Felix, who had driven a sensational, chaotic race to secure a brilliant P3 podium finish for Arseni Racing.

Adrian parked his car in the post-race paddock, pulling off his helmet with a tight, frustrated expression. He was covered in sweat, his muscles aching, his mind still deeply unsettled. As he walked into the media pen for his mandatory interviews, he was expecting questions about his spectacular drive from the back to fifth place.

Instead, a horde of gossip reporters bypassed the sports journalists, shoving their microphones aggressively into his face.

"Adrian! Over here! Is it true?" a reporter yelled over the noise.

"Adrian, are you and your teammate, Ren, in a secret romantic relationship? Can you confirm the rumors about 'Dark Trailing'?"

"Is your poor performance this weekend a result of the emotional strain of hiding your relationship from the paddock?"

Adrian froze. His scary black eyes turned incredibly dark, a look of pure, unadulterated disgust crossing his features. The sheer absurdity of the questions made his blood boil. "Stop talking absolute nonsense," Adrian growled, his voice projecting a terrifying, icy authority that made the nearest reporters flinch. "Write one more word of this garbage, and my legal team will personally ensure your entire media network is sued into bankruptcy. Get those microphones out of my face."

He pushed past them aggressively, his large shoulder shoving a path through the stunned crowd.

As he stormed into the private Novak team lounge, Felix emerged from the podium ceremony, still holding his sparkling champagne bottle and his third-place trophy. He was grinning from ear to ear, his purple suit sprayed with alcohol.

Adrian stopped, forcing a tight, genuine smile for his friend. "Congratulations on the podium, popsicle. You drove well today."

"Ah, thank you, thank you!" Felix beamed, tossing his trophy onto the table. "But *mon ami*, I think you have much bigger things to worry about than my glorious driving." Felix’s smile quickly morphed into a mischievous, highly amused smirk as he pulled his phone from his pocket. "You really need to see what just dropped online. The press is eating it up."

Felix handed the phone over to Adrian.

Right there on the screen was a fresh, highly detailed article that had been published just minutes after the race concluded. The headline was massive, bold, and incredibly mocking:

> **RIVALS ON THE TRACK, LOVERS IN THE MOTORHOME? INSIDE THE SECRET, FORBIDDEN ROMANCE OF ADRIAN NOVAK AND HIS TEAMMATE.**

>

The article went into graphic, ridiculous detail about their supposed private interactions in the paddock, citing anonymous "insiders." And at the very bottom, written in sharp, proud letters, was the byline:

*Authored by: Milli.*

Adrian’s jaw clenched so hard the veins in his neck bulged, turning a dark purple against his honey skin. The phone trembled in his massive grip. She had done it again. Even after being captured, even with a sprained wrist and a busted ankle, she had escaped and immediately launched another devastating strike against his reputation.

"Hey, hey, big guy, calm down!" Felix laughed, waving his hands in a mock panic as he tried to calm Adrian down. "Look on the bright side! At least she wrote that you are the dominant one in the relationship! The fans are absolutely loving it. Honestly, I think you and Ren make a very cute couple. Should I buy you two a wedding registry? I can get you matching black helmets! Or maybe some black silk sheets for your romantic motorhome?"

"Felix," Adrian whispered, his voice a low, terrifying vibration that could have shaken the walls. "Shut the f**k up."

"Okay, okay, bad joke! *Désolé!*" Felix chuckled, taking a step back but still grinning. "But seriously, Adrian, don't look like you're about to murder someone. The cameras are literally right outside that glass door. Just breathe."

Adrian didn't breathe. He didn't say another word.

With a sudden, violent turn, Adrian swung his massive fist and punched the solid concrete paddock wall right beside Felix’s head.

*BANG!*

The heavy impact echoed through the room like a gunshot. The solid concrete cracked slightly under the sheer force of his knuckles, and a thin trickle of crimson blood began to run down Adrian's hand. He didn't even flinch at the pain.

He stared at his bleeding knuckles, his black eyes glowing with a terrifying, predatory promise. She thought this was a game. She thought she could run away, throw dirt on his name, and mock his life without consequences. But she had no idea what she had just unleashed.

"She thinks she can play with fire," Adrian whispered, his voice dangerously calm, yet dripping with absolute promise. "Asaliya will see the exact beast inside me someday. And when I find her again, I will show her no mercy."