Revenge Or Love ✔

03 Clara

Clara POV.

A week later, I pack Arthur's luggage.

The wardrobe in the bedroom is open, and Arthur leans against the door frame, watching me. He occasionally says, "Don't take that, take this out."

"The third one from the bottom in the cabinet."

"Don't take those shoes either."

"..."

Is he a race car driver or a model? I think to myself as I push his two large suitcases and accompany him to the airport.

We are heading to Belgium.

This year's F1 events have a total of 19 races. Up until July, 13 races have already taken place, and the 14th race will be held at the Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps in Belgium.

I fall asleep as soon as I get on the plane. Seven hours later, the plane lands at Liège Airport in Belgium. We take a taxi to the hotel to check-in first, and the next day, we go to familiarize ourselves with the race track.

At the track, a tall, handsome blond man sees us and comes over to greet us.

"Long time no see, Arthur."

That man is Theodore, a driver from another team.

But Arthur's expression suddenly changed.

He glances lightly at Theodore, then ignores him like air and walks straight to the repair station.

I suddenly realize that my boss not only has a bad temper but is also petty. He won't even smile at his competitors.

I nod politely to Theodore and then quicken my pace to catch up with Arthur, who has already walked far ahead.

We stay in Belgium for a week, and Arthur isn't in a good mood this week.

At first, it is because of the qualifying race on Friday. He is the first to cross the finish line, securing pole position. According to the rules, the driver who secures pole position in the qualifying race can start from the best position in the main race.

But Arthur's car has its gearbox replaced, so he is penalized and will start five places back in the main race.

But there's another thing that makes him unhappy.

Theodore chose the same hotel as him, and they happen to be on the same floor.

On Saturday morning, they meet at the elevator door and go downstairs together; As a witness in the elevator, I feel the air suddenly becoming as cold as the Arctic.

Arthur goes to find the team doctor because his neck isn't feeling quite right. In yesterday's qualifying race, he braked too hard in a turn and twisted his neck.

But the team doctor is giving another driver a neck massage and tells Arthur to wait in the next room for 20 minutes.

Arthur frowns.

"Shall I give it a try?" I say softly next to him.

"You?" Arthur raises an eyebrow, looking skeptical.

"I've learned it and have a license." To increase credibility, I deliberately find the certificate from my phone's photo album to show him.

"How did you think of learning massage?" he asks.

"I... my family was sick and hospitalized before, so I learned a bit." I explain.

Arthur finally nods.

He sits down, and I stand behind him, kneading his stiff shoulder muscles from exercising.

His hair is thick, with a hair whorl on the top, like a small vortex.

My debts are also like a vortex.

I stare at the top of his head and suddenly remember the bank card he gave Lily and Lily's tearful complaints.

If I could be one of Arthur's many bed partners... I think to myself, unconsciously leaning closer to him and lightly touching his shoulder.

Arthur immediately opens his eyes.

There's a mirror in the room, and he looks at me through it, half-smiling.

My body stiffens.

"You're quite good at massaging," he slowly curls up the corners of his mouth, making my heart inexplicably nervous.

Before I can think more, the team doctor has arrived.

I greet the team doctor and leave in a hurry.

I keep avoiding Arthur all afternoon. On one hand, I feel guilty for my bold move; on the other hand, I'm preparing dinner for him.

After putting the plate of food into his suite on the top floor of the hotel, I quickly slip back to my ordinary single room downstairs.

But my luck seems to be bad today.

As soon as I enter the room and insert the card into the slot, the air conditioner starts blowing out hot air.

In summer.

I think I might have accidentally pressed the wrong button before leaving, so I try to switch the air conditioner to the cooling mode, but it's still hot air.

I have to call the hotel manager.

The hotel manager arrives and calls a maintenance worker; they conclude that the air conditioner is malfunctioning and cannot be repaired temporarily.

And now it's already nine in the evening.

"Madam, I'm sorry. We are willing to waive your room fees for these days and compensate you three times the price for your loss," the manager says.

This unexpected windfall makes me quite satisfied, but then I think... where am I going to stay tonight?

Because of the F1 event, the hotel is busy, and there are no other vacant rooms available.

I'm speechless, so I go upstairs and knock on Arthur's door.

"Mr. Arthur." The door opens a crack, and I give a flattering smile through it.

"My room's air conditioner is broken. May I sleep in your suite tonight?" I say softly.

His suite is spacious, with a large bed in the bedroom and a large sofa in the living room.

The crack widens, and Arthur's face appears. He has just taken a shower, his hair half-damp, falling on his forehead, and his face looks extremely attractive under the corridor lights.

But the next moment, he gives me a highly sarcastic smile, "Are you trying to seduce me with this excuse?"

I'm a little anxious, "The air conditioner is really broken. If you don't believe me, I can call the hotel manager—"

"So you don't want to sleep with me?" he interrupts me, scanning me sharply from head to toe.

I swallow and stare at the patterns on the corridor carpet for a while, "I'd like to..."