I frowned, done with both of them. "This kind of car isn't even sold on the open market—so yeah, not stolen either. If you've got a brain, look it up. A numbered Crownell isn't something you mess with."

Kiara didn't even try. Just smirked. "Please. Like I'd believe that. Your cheap little local ride can't be bought outside? Not even a dog would fall for that. I could say our boss's Porsche is the only one in Norleigh. Even the president couldn't buy it."

She turned to Henley.

He nodded, way too pleased. "It's globally limited. Top-grade South African diamonds, hand-selected, all over the car. How's some local junk supposed to compare?"

Kiara snapped a few pics of the Porsche. "See these diamonds? After you hit it, a few fell off. You're paying for that." She tilted her head, fake generous. "I won't go too hard on you. You and Mr. Chatham have history. Out of respect, I'll keep it simple—ten million."

The crowd sucked in a breath.

"What? A few diamonds cost ten million?"

Kiara shot them a look. "You think it's not worth it? If this tramp hadn't blocked me while I cut in, I'd be long gone. Instead, I'm stuck here. Our limited Porsche's been baking in the sun for over an hour because of her. The whole thing's overheated. You think that doesn't count?"

The bystander forced a grin. "It does—of course it does! Honestly, even a hundred million wouldn't be too much!"

"As expected of Henley Chatham. Drops hundreds of millions on a car like it's nothing. Next time I see one, I'm walking way around it. Not going bankrupt today."

"This girl's cursed. Of all cars, she had to hit his."

People started edging back—real quick. A few diamonds meant ten million.

The guy livestreaming quietly ended it.

Henley soaked it up, straightening his designer suit. "How about this, Suri? For old times, I'll cut you a deal. Eight million."

I flicked my hand. "No need. Ten million."

Henley blinked. "Ten million? You've got that kind of money?" He scoffed. "Need I remind you—five years ago, your parents were gone, and I paid your tuition. And now you're acting like this? Think it through. Don't embarrass yourself when you can't pay."

I didn't argue. Just pulled out a check. Ten million.

"I said—ten million."

Silence.

Kiara stared at it, stunned.

I smirked, looking straight at them. "Happy now? I paid. So let's talk about what you owe me."

Something in my voice hit Kiara hard. She ripped the check in half.

"I've never seen a check like this. What, you forged it to play rich?"

Henley just looked disappointed. "Suri, being broke isn't your fault. But breaking the law to save face? That's low."

The crowd got loud again.

"I knew it. No way she has that kind of money—fake!"

"If you're broke, stop pretending! People like that should just disappear!"

"Get out of our city! You're polluting Hawthorne Bay!"

Someone even tossed trash at me.

Henley frowned and stepped in front of me. "Suri, stop being stubborn. I'll give you a black card for your car. Deal?"

I glanced at the chaos and let out a sharp laugh.

I snapped the card in half and dropped it at his feet.

"You really think a black card fixes this?"

Henley looked awkward. "Suri, I know you're still mad about the black card I gave Kiara that day. I get it—you're short on money now. I'm giving you one. Stop making a scene."

Five years ago, on our engagement day, he said he had a surprise.

I waited all day.

What I got? A shared wallet invite. Daily limit—twenty bucks.

At the same time, Kiara posted:

"Thanks for the black card, Henley. Time to travel the world!"

That's when my heart went cold. I called off the engagement and joined a classified agency.

I don't care about any of that anymore. Looking at Henley now? Just disgust.

My silence only pissed Kiara off more. "You're really asking for it. Mr. Chatham's being nice, offering you a black card, and you still act like this? Believe it or not, I can have your trash car wrecked in minutes!"

I didn't bite. Not worth it.

Out of basic decency, I gave her one last warning. "Go ahead. Just make sure you can handle what comes next."

Kiara didn't care—if anything, she got more hyped. "Anyone here willing to smash this junk car? I'll pay a thousand each!"

Someone lit up. "Wait—seriously? That kind of deal?"

They grabbed whatever they could and rushed in.

Someone muttered from the crowd, "This feels off. She sounds way too confident. Maybe she's got backing."

Kiara shot them a look. "What, scared? Then get lost. Don't stand in my way. She's a nobody—no parents, no backup. Even if something happens, the Chatham family's got you."

That did it.

More people surged forward. Total chaos.

Someone even dragged over a shovel.

"Use something heavy! I don't buy that this junk won't break!"

"Yeah! Smash it! It's just a car!"

Of course it wouldn't break.

I'd already said it—this wasn't some regular Crownell.

If bullets couldn't punch through it, what were a few tools gonna do?

I just stood off to the side, watching them dig their own graves.

Then, inside the car, a small indicator light blinked on.

I knew they were done.

Kiara kept yelling, hyped out of her mind. "Smash it! Harder! Whoever wrecks it gets ten grand!"

Then—deep rumbles rolled in from the distance.

Someone shouted, "Oh my God—what is that?"

Everyone turned.

About twenty tanks were rolling straight toward us, the ground shaking under them.