Delete My Love for You novel Chapter 38

“Fast! Precise! Ruthless!”

The triumphant smile on Xena’s face froze in an instant.

“Point for Number 8!”

The air in the arena was sucked dry, plunging the room into stunned silence.

Everyone was shell-shocked by the turn of events.

“Is Number 8 out of her mind? She actually dared to beat the future Mrs. Harrington?”

“She must be desperate for that grand prize—the imperial jade worth millions! She’ll risk anything for a shot at it!”

Up in the VIP section, Noah’s hand hung midair, the little flag forgotten, his mouth agape.

Darren, too, leaned forward, his deep-set eyes for the first time showing a flicker of confusion, curiosity, and—buried just beneath the surface—a trace of anger.

On stage, Xena stood as if struck by lightning, frozen in place. Even with her mask hiding her features, anyone could feel her shock radiating outward.

How was this possible?

The same Number 8 who’d been humbly giving her a massage not long ago—now she dared to fight back for real?

“I protest! She broke the rules!” Xena shrieked at the referee, her composure unraveling.

The referee glanced nervously at Darren in the VIP seats, only to meet a pair of icy, hellish eyes. A chill ran down his spine. Clearing his throat, he announced, “Point is void! The match will restart!”

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed at the words.

Xena let out a smug laugh, her voice dropping low. “Did you hear that, Number 8? So what if you win? The point doesn’t count. You’d better behave, or else…”

The threat in her words hung in the air, unspoken but unmistakable.

The referee raised his hand: “Begin!”

This time, Xena abandoned all pretense. Her face was twisted with rage as she launched her attack.

She moved with the steps and combinations taught by her international coach, her foil slicing through the air with deadly intent, aimed straight at Charlotte.

But Charlotte’s mind worked at lightning speed. She danced around Xena’s seemingly fierce attacks, her wrist flicking with surgical precision to strike a weak spot just beneath Xena’s right ribs.

“Ahh!”

It crashed to the ground outside the strip.

The force of the blow sent Xena sprawling, landing hard on her backside.

Her mask was knocked askew, revealing a face twisted in shock, humiliation, and utter disbelief.

The entire hall went silent—a silence so deep you could hear a pin drop.

The referee stood frozen for several seconds. It was undeniable: Number 8 had won, fair and square. Even if he wanted to call a foul, he couldn’t.

Xena, red-faced and humiliated, slunk off the stage.

In the matches that followed, Charlotte dispatched each opponent with ease, claiming the championship title.

At last, the referee blew his whistle, his voice cracking with astonishment: “Number 8 is the winner! Please return to the stage in ten minutes for the awards ceremony!”

In the VIP section, Darren’s expression was thunderous, his very presence radiating a chilling intensity as he watched Charlotte leave the stage.

He turned to his aide and spoke in a low, commanding voice. “Find out who Number 8 is. I want everything on her—ten minutes, no more.”