The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance novel Chapter 624

Stella’s reflexes kicked in instantly. She gripped the wheel and steadied the car just in time, narrowly missing the curbside flowerbeds.

A quick glance in the rearview mirror told her Sellers was coming at her again—his car barreling down like a runaway beast.

Her eyes narrowed, her face hardening to ice.

His brakes had failed? Was he planning to use her as a buffer, to force his own car to a stop?

She remembered Sherman mentioning Sellers’ driving—a pro, once a race car driver. With his skills, even with no brakes, he could have found some way to bring the car to a halt.

But instead, he was using this reckless, self-destructive approach.

He was trying to kill her.

Stella’s hands tightened around the steering wheel, fury flaring in her eyes. It had been a long time since she’d felt this angry. Sellers’ viciousness was beyond anything she’d imagined.

She slammed her foot down on the gas. The car shot forward, swift and sharp, like an arrow loosed from the bow.

Just as Sellers’ car nearly clipped her front bumper again, she swerved and left him behind. For now.

Thank God her car had been specially modified; otherwise, just one more hit and she’d lose control for sure.

Haynes, in the passenger seat, saw what was happening in the rearview and scowled.

“What the hell is Sellers doing?”

Stella’s voice was flat. “Isn’t it obvious? He wants me dead.”

Haynes frowned. “You two don’t even have any bad blood. Why would he go that far?”

A cold smile tugged at Stella’s lips. “So, what—you think I’m making this up?”

Sherman had thought taking care of Stella would only take a few minutes. But to his surprise, each time Sellers almost collided with her car, she managed to slip away at the last second.

No amateur could dodge like that.

Sellers squinted, muttering, “This Stella… she’s not as simple as she looks. She’s no beginner.”

Sherman shook his head, stunned. “Where did she learn to drive like that?”

The words trailed off as a memory surfaced—how he’d once goaded Stella into learning to drive, just to humiliate her.

“No way,” he murmured, “she couldn’t have picked up those skills back then—could she?”

Sherman had already had people dig into Stella’s life over the past five years. She’d been a stay-at-home mom, looking after her husband and kids, barely touching a car.

The only time she might have been around racing was during that stint when he’d dragged her to driving lessons, just for his own amusement.