I Had Crossed the Finish Line When He Chased Me

Lory’s POV

Bettina had poor academic standing and a fiery temper. My close friends never let her out of their sight, which made it impossible for her to keep any job for long.

Eventually, her parents forced her to exchange her bride price and marry a man even older than her own father.

It was said that since she wasn’t a virgin, that old man would beat her half to death whenever he drank too much.

Her life, by all accounts, was worse than death.

That was when I finally understood her true ambition.

What she had always wanted was to marry into the Gallachers—to rewrite her fate and become their wealthy daughter-in-law.

Frayne pressed his lips together, his blue eyes calm and unreadable.

“It was me being childish back then,” he said quietly. “But the motorcycle was already leaking oil. If we didn’t race, it would’ve been dangerous.”

Bettina’s eyes grew hazy, her lips brushing along his cheek before pressing against his mouth. Her breath quickened, unsteady.

“Frayne, you once promised you would marry me,” she whispered.

Suddenly, Frayne raised his hand. A sharp crack split the night as his palm struck her face.

In an instant, a red hand-shaped mark bloomed across her cheek.

“You have no right to bargain with me!”

His eyes finally flickered with a cold, mocking scorn.

“Get out.”

When I returned to the party hall, I caught sight of Bettina from a distance. She came running toward me, her face glowing with the joy of reunion.

“Hi, Lory! We met again! How have you been lately?”

I stared at her blankly, though inside, anger surged like a rising tide.

If Frayne had been blinded by infatuation back then, maybe that could be forgiven.

But Bettina? She saw me injured, and still, she walked away without even trying to help.

To this day, I never knew why she left me then. Was lending me a hand really so difficult?

If she had pulled me out sooner, my leg wouldn’t have been left with this permanent damage.

Now, she stood before me, acting like an old friend, without even a hint of apology for what she did back then. That only deepened my resentment toward her.

“What’s wrong?” she teased, covering her mouth as she laughed. “Made it big now, and you look down on an old classmate like me?”

Her eyes narrowed into crescents as she chuckled.

“Thinking back, I realize you really were pitiful. All it took was the slightest move from me, and Frayne was hooked. Meanwhile, you kept shamelessly begging him, and he wouldn’t even spare you a glance…”

She laughed freely, trying to reclaim the pride she had lost to me through Frayne.

I slipped off my high heels, gripped an empty wine bottle. And the next second, I smashed it hard against her head.

Her eyes widened in shock, as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Then, finding her voice, she screamed for help at the top of her lungs, determined to make me pay.

But what she didn’t understand was that in high society, everything was tied to interests. As long as it wasn’t murder or arson, most guests who witnessed a scandal would pretend they hadn’t seen a thing.

Pressing the jagged mouth of the broken bottle against the artery in her neck, I leaned down and whispered, my voice like ice, “Don’t let me see you again. This is the first and the last time. Do you understand?”

She looked around, still refusing to believe it. She kept calling for help from the crowd. But everyone just stood there, watching the drama unfold like it was entertainment.

When her gaze met my cold, unfeeling eyes, panic finally overtook her. She screamed, trembling.

Across the room, Frayne took a slow sip of red wine. At his signal, two security guards stepped forward and dragged Bettina away like a dead dog.

That single blow to her head had released years of pent-up rage in me.

But in its wake came another storm—an unspeakable restlessness surging through my chest, crushing bone and flesh as it spread, inch by inch, through my entire body.

I pressed a hand to my forehead and slipped out of the crowd, finding my way to a quiet path in the garden.

The night breeze brushed against my skin. Little by little, the wild turbulence inside me began to calm.