Ch. He Marked Another Luna, So She Slept With His Alpha Brother 43 He Marked Another Luna, So She Slept With His Alpha Brother 43

Chapter 43 

Vivienne’s POV Post 

My victory was supposed to be a certainty. I’d brought one of the finest racing teams in the realm, and my driver had held the lead for most of the competition. I’d already imagined the applause, the congratulations, and the satisfaction of taking home the Lamborghini Revuelto. Then, in the final stretch, a black sports car came out of nowhere. 

It practically leaped, launched over my driver’s car and swept across the finish line first. For several seconds, I could only stare at the giant screen. CAR 221 – FIRST PLACE. 

What the fuck? What the hell had just happened? Who was even driving that car? And how had anyone managed such a ridiculous manoeuvre without crashing? 

My irritation turned to disbelief when I spotted someone climbing out of the winning vehicle. The woman removed her helmet. My blood went cold. What the hell? 

Camila Hart. Of all the people in the realm, it had to be her. I would recognise that face anywhere. Even if years passed and the world changed around us, I would never forget the woman who had repeatedly humiliated me. The wolf-less wretch. My fingers curled into fists. 

When Aria had mentioned seeing Camila earlier, I’d dismissed her. What business could Camila possibly have at an exclusive racing tournament? This wasn’t the sort of place losers like her belong. I’d assumed Aria had mistaken someone else for her. Clearly, I’d underestimated the situation. 

Camila hadn’t merely attended the event. She’d entered the competition, beaten my driver, and stolen the victory I’d considered practically guaranteed. I felt as though someone had slapped me in front of the entire realm. I could kill her with my stares right there and then. 

Aria hurried closer, already checking something on her phone. 

“Vivienne, the results are out.” 

“What is she doing here?” I hissed. “Did she actually compete?” 

I turned on her. “Then tell me what happened!” 

She hesitated. “Camila came first,” she said quietly. “She’s the driver of car 221. She won.” 

“No.” I shook my head sharply. “That can’t be right.” I didn’t want to accept the ugly truth even though I saw it happen. 

I looked towards the track again. Camila was standing beside her car, accepting congratulations as though defeating professional racers was something she did every day. Since when could she even drive like that? 

Back when I was chasing after Julian, Camila had seemed like a useless, ordinary woman. 

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I’d never considered her a threat beyond her stubbornness and her irritating habit of refusing to stay in her place. But now, she wasn’t just a damn piano prodigy. She’d just shattered a racing record and humiliated professional drivers in front of the entire realm. Who the fuck was Camila Hart? 

“She cheated,” I declared. “There must have been something wrong with that race. Nobody suddenly develops skills like that and beats a professional team without a reason/ 

Aria nodded, though her expression suggested she wasn’t entirely convinced. “I thought the same thing. It’s suspicious.” 

“Of course it is.” 

I refused to believe Camila had simply outperformed everyone. There had to be an explanation, and I intended to find it. But first, I needed to deal with the woman who had made me look foolish. 

I turned to Aria. “You’ve always been a good friend to me, haven’t you?” 

She looked wary. “I suppose so. Why?” 

“Because I need your help.” 

Her eyes flickered towards Camila before returning to me. “What do you want me to do?” 

I stepped closer and lowered my voice, explaining my plan in a few quick sentences. Aria’s face was drained of colour. 

“Vivienne, are you serious? That could go terribly wrong. Someone could get hurt.” 

I gave her a cold look. “Then don’t make mistakes.” 

“But-” 

“What’s the problem?” I interrupted. “You don’t like Camila either. Do you want to stand by and watch her continue humiliating people? If she keeps interfering in everything, who knows what she’ll do to your cousin next?” 

Aría pressed her lips together. I knew I’d struck a nerve. Still, she looked unconvinced, so I decided to give her a reason to stop hesitating. 

“Ten million,” I said, Her eyes widened. “I’ll transfer six million to you right now. The rest four after that bitch bitch were destroyed. You can buy that designer bag you’ve been talking about, and anything else you want. Consider it a reward for helping me.” 

I took out my phone and made the transfer. A moment later, Aria’s phone chimed. She stared at the notification, her expression caught between temptation and fear. Finally, she looked up at me, “Fine. I’ll help you. But if something goes wrong, you never involved me. Understand?” 

A small smile touched my lips. “Relax. Nobody is going to die.” 

I didn’t wait for her to say anything else. My gaze returned to Camila, who was still 

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celebrating with her peacock friend. She looked perfectly pleased with herself, utterly unaware that her little victory was going to be ruined in a few moments. 

Enjoy your moment, Camila. You won’t be smiling for long. 

I turned on my heel and headed towards the track, my anger hardening into determination. She might have taken first place today. 

But I wasn’t going to let her walk away thinking she’d won. 

Camila’s POV 

“Camila, the moment the ownership transfer is complete, we’re taking that Lamborghini for a spin!” Bella declared, practically dancing on the spot. “And not some gentle Sunday drive. I’m talking real speed!” 

I laughed at her enthusiasm. “You’d better learn how to handle the steering wheel first.” 

“Details! I’ll figure them out later.” 

Seeing her this happy made every risky second on the track worthwhile. Unfortunately, our celebration didn’t last. 

“Camila Hart!” 

The venom in that voice was unmistakable. I turned to find Vivienne striding towards us, her face twisted with indignation. Her eyes burned with the kind of fury that came from watching someone else claim what she had already considered hers. 

“Did you cheat?” she demanded. “There’s no way my professional driver lost to someone like you! What did you do to win?” 

I stared at her coldly. “Are you always this pathetic when things don’t go your way?” 

Bella stepped forward before Vivienne could respond. “Who the hell do you think you are, questioning her victory? She beat your driver fair and square. Maybe your precious champion isn’t as brilliant as you thought.” 

Vivienne’s gaze shifted to Anabela, her lip curling. “And who invited you to speak? Must you make a spectacle of yourself every time you open your mouth? No wonder you have such appalling manners.” 

Bella planted her hands on her hips. “I’m the woman who’s about to drive away in a Lamborghini while you’re standing here throwing a tantrum. How does that feel?” 

A few spectators nearby snickered, Vivienne’s face tightened. I almost smiled, but she turned on me again before I could speak, 

“You planned this, didn’t you?” she accused. “You knew my team would be competing today. You deliberately showed up because you thought Julian might be here, and you wanted another chance to get his attention!” 

I stared at her in disbelief. “Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk? I came here to 

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race. You’re the one making everything about Julian.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t pretend you’re innocent. You’ve always wanted what belongs to 

gave her a contemptuous smile. “Believe me, Vivienne. Even if Julian were the last man left in the realm, I wouldn’t want him. You can keep him and your delusions.” 

Anabela let out a sharp laugh. “Did you hear that? She’s not interested in your husband Get that through your thick skull.” 

Vivienne’s expression hardened. “You’re both shameless.” 

“No,” Bella snapped. “We’re just tired of watching you play the victim. You’re the one who became the other woman, yet you walk around acting as though everyone owes you an apology. Get over yourself!” 

Several people around us turned to watch. Whispers spread through the crowd, and more spectators began gathering, clearly sensing that the argument was about to get uglier. Vivienne looked ready to tear into us, but before she could respond, a track official approached. 

“Miss Hart?” 

I turned towards him. He looked uncomfortable, especially with so many people listening. “Following a review of the race footage, concerns have been raised about certain aspects of your performance. The organisers have decided to withhold official confirmation of your victory until the matter has been resolved.” 

My smile disappeared. “What concerns?” 

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