Chapter 140 Black Horse II

The soft click of the door echoed through the early morning silence as Lana stepped out of the house. The sunlight hit her skin, making it glow like gold. She closed her eyes for a second and exhaled slowly.

Today’s the day.

Everything she had worked for—the countless sleepless nights, the harsh diets, the grueling training routines, the rejections, the fake smiles—led to this moment. If there was ever a time to shine, it was now. She had to give it her all. She had to be seen. Not just as a pretty face—but as someone undeniable.

And she looked like it too.

Lana was the very definition of perfect beauty. She wore a striking cream-white crop blazer over a sleek, black high-slit pencil skirt that hugged her curvy figure with sinful precision. Her long legs were dressed in sheer nude tights, and a pair of red-bottom heels clicked elegantly against the pavement with every step she took. Her dark brown hair cascaded over her back in soft waves, accentuating her high cheekbones and flawless skin. Her makeup was expertly done—subtle yet captivating—highlighting her lush lips and mesmerizing green eyes.

A true runway goddess, even without the spotlight.

She walked out to the roadside, carefully avoiding the small puddle near the curb. Her phone buzzed in her hand, but she ignored it. Her mind was focused—narrowed to a singular goal.

She raised her hand, signaling for an approaching cab.

But it zipped right past her without even slowing down.

Lana’s brows knit together. She glanced at her watch. Time was already slipping.

Another cab approached, and again she pointed—but the driver ignored her. What the hell? She was beginning to panic.

But then, from the corner of her eye, she heard it.

A low, thunderous growl.

The unmistakable purr of a V8 hybrid engine. She turned her head and watched in awe as a sleek, obsidian-black Ferrari SF90 Stradale glided into view. The body gleamed under the sun, the curves of the machine designed like an art piece—powerful, predatory, seductive. Her heart skipped.

It was the kind of car you only saw in movies—or in music videos with billionaires. She admired it for a brief moment before shaking her head. Focus, Lana. You’ve got bigger things today.

She raised her hand again, this time more urgently.

But the cab she had been aiming for changed lanes and vanished down the street.

"Seriously?" she muttered, growing frustrated.

But then, the Ferrari slowed.

And to her shock—it stopped. Right in front of her.

Lana tilted her head, her brows creasing in confusion. She instinctively took a step back as the door slowly opened, the soft hiss of the automatic system almost surreal.

Her eyes flicked inside—and widened instantly.

Seated inside, one arm casually resting on the wheel, was Liam.

But this Liam was... different.

He wore a tailored black suit that wrapped around his lean, powerful frame with absolute precision. The jacket was buttoned cleanly over a jet-black shirt with no tie, just enough of the top buttons undone to reveal a teasing glimpse of his smooth collarbone. On his feet were polished leather shoes—also black—but with subtle, deep crimson stripes lacing the low sides, catching the light as he tapped his foot slightly. His dark brown hair was styled in a new, sharper cut—shorter on the sides, longer at the top, pushed back in a tousled, modern look that made him appear like a model straight out of a luxury magazine spread.

His deep blue eyes locked on hers, filled with calm confidence and just the right amount of arrogance.

He was gorgeous.

No—he was dangerous.

Even Lana, who had grown used to being around handsome men, found herself frozen. Dazed. There was a moment where she forgot about the event. About the cab. About the world.

"Are you going to get in," Liam said, voice low and smooth, his lips curled into a cocky smirk, "or just keep staring at me all morning?"

Lana blinked.

"Huh—?"

"I thought we had an event to catch."

Her eyes flew wide open. "Wait... What?!"

He smirked again, shifting into a more relaxed position. "You asked me two days ago, didn’t you?"

Lana’s heart jumped in her chest.

When she had asked him back then—nervous and hopeful—he had turned her down. Politely, but it hurt more than she cared to admit. She had told herself it was fine. That she’d find someone else. That she didn’t need him.

But now... now he was here. Dressed like that. In a Ferrari.

Her lips curved into a bright, beautiful smile—one so radiant that Liam found himself stunned in return. He had never seen her smile like that. So genuine. So warm. It was like the sun had chosen to land on her lips.

Without hesitation, she slipped into the passenger seat and shut the door.

As she fastened her seatbelt, she turned her head and asked, "So... where’d you get this car? Don’t tell me it’s yours."

Liam chuckled, keeping his gaze on the road ahead. "A good friend lent it to me."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

In truth, Liam had stolen the car.

Well, borrowed it—without permission—from Lilith’s private garage. But hey, it’s not like she was using it today. And he had left a note.

Sort of.

"Right," Lana said, shaking her head with a chuckle. "Your friends must be loaded."

Liam smiled.

"Better buckle up tight," he said as he revved the engine. "We’re already late—and I’m gonna drive fast."

The Ferrari roared, and before Lana could even respond, they were off.

And just like that, her world—which had started so uncertain and hopeless—felt completely reborn.

---

The sleek black Ferrari SF90 purred as it came to a smooth stop in front of the massive event hall. The place was already bustling. Paparazzi littered the front steps like a swarm of moths drawn to a flame, cameras clicking non-stop, flashes bursting every second, and voices shouting over one another in chaotic excitement.

Liam’s eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned the scene from behind the tinted windows. The buzz was loud, the crowd bigger than he expected.

He turned to Lana.

She was staring out of the window, her green eyes calm yet intense. She was ready for this. Even from the side, her profile looked perfect—like a statue carved by the gods.

Before the car door could lift open, she turned to him, her voice soft but filled with meaning. "Thank you again, Liam," she said, her eyes lingering on his with a grateful warmth that didn’t need more words.

Liam gave a small, charming smile. "Don’t mention it."

The car door lifted open with a hiss.

The moment Liam’s polished shoes touched the pavement—

BOOM.

A thunderstorm of camera flashes exploded around them.

The roar of voices amplified as if someone had dropped a grenade in the middle of the crowd.

Reporters started yelling, paparazzi broke past the barriers, and all lenses were aimed squarely at them.

The Ferrari had already turned heads the moment it rolled in, but now, as two drop-dead gorgeous figures emerged from it, the energy shifted into a full-blown media frenzy.

Lana stepped out with grace and elegance, her long legs slipping out of the car like a scene from a luxury commercial. Her skirt hugged her curves perfectly, her long hair swayed slightly as she adjusted her posture, and her smile was picture-perfect as if she’d rehearsed it a thousand times.

But Liam—

He froze for half a second.

The blinding flashes. The shouting. The clicking.

He felt like he had just been dropped onto the red carpet of the Oscars without a warning. The sheer volume of attention was almost nauseating. He squinted as a flash hit directly into his eyes and muttered under his breath, "This is hell..."

But then, he looked at Lana.

And what he saw stunned him.

She was absolutely thriving.

Head high. Shoulders back. Eyes straight. Smile flawless. She moved like she owned the very ground beneath her heels, her presence a beacon that pulled every camera like gravity. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. The chaos was her rhythm. The attention was her fuel.

She was built for this.

And suddenly, Liam wasn’t so overwhelmed anymore.

With a subtle breath, he raised his elbow slightly.

Without missing a beat, Lana slid her hand into the crook of his arm, locking it with grace. Their steps synchronized as they began walking together toward the hall entrance.

Click. Click. Click.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

"Who’s the mystery guy?!"

"He looks very familiar!"

"Lana! Lana! Is this your partner?!"

"Name please, sir!"

"How long have you two been dating?!"

Voices chased them, but Liam kept his expression neutral, eyes ahead, lips pressed into a line of calm confidence. If he was going to be here—he might as well look the part.

The two of them, side by side, looked like a royal couple—dripping with elegance and power. Lana in her model-perfect outfit, and Liam, tall and composed in his tailored suit, oozing charisma without even trying.

As they approached the grand golden doors of the event hall, Liam leaned in slightly and muttered under his breath, "Remind me never to do this again."

Lana chuckled softly without looking at him. "You’re doing great."

He glanced at her again—and this time, there was no mistaking it.

That smile she wore wasn’t just for the cameras.

It was for him.