His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.

Chapter 805: Chapter 805 Betting

In the pit, Jason was in his element.

He stood beside his car, running his hands over the smooth red surface. The vehicle was a work of art, sleek and powerful, its design a perfect blend of aerodynamics and raw engineering. It was a weapon built for one thing and one thing only: speed.

A technician approached him, holding a tablet. "Physical exam is done. Medical team gave you the all-clear. You’re good to go."

Jason let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His shoulders dropped and his jaw unclenched.

"Thank God," he muttered. "I was so worried."

He had been worried. After spending time with Dominique, he’d eaten way too much pizza and skipped way too many exercise days. The moment he realized, he had panicked. He had come early, fixed his diet and trained hard. It had paid off.

He was ready.

"Look who’s here."

The voice came from behind him, smooth and mocking, dripping with false friendliness. Jason turned.

A tall man stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his smile sharp as a blade. He had platinum blonde hair, cropped short, and cold blue eyes that held no warmth. His racing suit was immaculate, his posture perfect, his presence radiating arrogance.

His name was Lukas Voss. He was Jason’s biggest rival.

"Jason Vale," Lukas said, drawing out the name like he was tasting something bitter. "I heard you’ve been winning races all across the country. Quite the hot streak you’ve got going but there’s one place you’ve never won, isn’t there?"

He glanced around the arena, his smirk widening.

"Cedar International."

Jason’s smile didn’t waver. He looked at Lukas with calm, cool eyes.

"Lukas," he said, his voice warm and pleasant. "I was hoping you’d be here. I was starting to think you’d retired and taken up something more suited to your talents."

Lukas blinked. "Like what?"

Jason tilted his head, pretending to think. "Like being a weatherman. You’re very good at making things cloudy."

Lukas’s eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I mean, you’re always predicting doom and gloom for everyone else. It’s a gift, really. You should consider it."

Lukas stepped forward, his voice dropping lower. "You think you’re clever, don’t you? Always the joker. But when the race starts, all that charm won’t save you. The roads are slippery, and we both know you lose control when things get rough." frёeωebɳovel.com

Jason turned fully to face him, his hands resting casually on his hips. "Is that what you tell yourself? That I’m just lucky? That I only win because the track is dry?"

Lukas laughed, a short, sharp sound. "I don’t have to tell myself anything. Everyone knows you’re a fair-weather driver. The moment conditions get tough, you fall apart. I’ve seen it. I’ve watched it. And tonight, the whole world will see it too."

Jason’s smile remained, but something flickered in his eyes. "You talk a lot for someone who’s never beaten me in a clean race."

Lukas’s face went red. "What did you say?"

"You heard me. Every time we’ve raced, you’ve needed something to go wrong for me to win. A tire blowout. A bad pit stop. A penalty. But when it’s just you and me on a fair track? I’ve never lost to you."

Lukas’s hands curled into fists at his sides. "That’s a lie. I’ve beaten you plenty of times."

"Name one."

Lukas opened his mouth, then closed it. His jaw tightened.

Jason’s smile widened. "That’s what I thought."

"You’re a piece of work, Vale," Lukas spat. "You think you’re better than everyone. But I’ve been training harder than you. I’ve been preparing longer. Tonight, I’m going to destroy you. I’m going to make you look like a beginner out there."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "Destroy me? Lukas, you couldn’t destroy a paper bag without instructions."

Several technicians nearby laughed quietly. Lukas’s eyes darted to them, and his face burned even redder.

"You’re dead," he said, his voice low and venomous. "When I cross that finish line ahead of you, I want you to remember this moment. I want you to remember every word I said."

"I will," Jason said, his voice calm. "I’ll remember it while I’m standing on the podium holding the trophy."

Lukas pointed a finger at him. "You won’t even make it to the podium. You’ll spin out before the first lap is over. Mark my words."

"I’ll mark them," Jason said. "Right next to all your other predictions that never came true."

Lukas opened his mouth to speak, but Jason had already turned away, dismissing him completely.

"You’re going to regret this, Vale," Lukas called after him. "When you’re sitting in the gravel, watching me take that victory lap, I want to see your face. I want to see the look of defeat in your eyes."

Jason paused, but he didn’t reply. He simply climbed into his car, the door closing with a solid thunk.

Thirty minutes before the race, Dominique was doing what he did best: causing chaos.

The VIP section was lively. Wealthy spectators mingled, glasses of champagne in hand, their eyes scanning the track below. The atmosphere was electric, full of anticipation and greed. Crystal chandeliers cast golden light across the room.and the murmur of conversation was punctuated by the clink of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter.

Dominique gathered a small crowd around him, all of them wearing expensive suits and flashing their watches. He leaned against the railing, a wide grin on his face.

"Alright, alright, alright. Listen up, everyone. I have a proposal for you."

A man with a thick mustache and a gold watch raised an eyebrow. "What kind of proposal?"

Dominique reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick roll of cash. He slapped it against his palm, the sound sharp and confident. "I’m betting on Jason Vale. Fifty thousand. Right now. Who wants to take me on?"

The crowd murmured, eyes shifting toward him. A few men laughed.

"Jason Vale?" one of them said, scoffing. "He’s never won here. He always chokes at Cedar."

"Exactly," Dominique said, his grin widening. "That’s why this is easy money. You all think he’s going to lose. I think he’s going to win. Put your money where your mouth is."

A tall man in a black suit stepped forward. His name was Victor, a known investor with a love for gambling. "I’ll take that bet. Fifty thousand says Lukas Voss wins."

Dominique nodded. "Done."

Another man stepped forward. "I’ll put twenty on Lukas."

"Same," a woman in a red dress added. "Twenty on Lukas."

Within minutes, Dominique had collected over a hundred thousand in bets, all against Jason.

He smiled, tucking the cash into his pocket. "Excellent. Now let’s watch the show."

Victor smirked. "You’re going to lose a lot of money today, young man."

Dominique’s smile didn’t waver. "We’ll see."