The Princess and the Pauper (Arabella)

Chapter 1664

Before Arabella had set foot in Belloria, she hadn't even heard of someone named Sean.

But Ophelia seemed serious when she said, "I've heard this Sean guy is bad news. No one dares to cross him, and nobody really

knows what his deal is."

Arabella didn't know either, and she wasn't exactly fond of the kind of guy who played women and acted like he owned the place.

"You know what? You totally knocked the socks off my crew tonight," Ophelia continued. "When you first told them that the only

things you knew about driving were going forward, reversing, and braking, they were scared out of their minds."

Arabella just smiled softly.

"And then you said you'd never raced before, but the moment you hit the track, you left everyone's jaw on the floor. Now they're

all bugging me, asking if you'll join the team. They don't care if you're a coach or not; they've got a ton of questions to ask you."

Arabella chuckled, "So, are you planning to hire me, Ms. Almond?"

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"I wish | could afford that!" Ophelia quickly said, knowing Arabella had many talents. "| told them that even a minute of your time

costs a fortune. You should've seen their faces—hilarious!"

They both laughed and clinked glasses, chatting away while they enjoyed their meal.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town.

Steward approached Sean, nervous as a cat and barely daring to breathe.

Sean sat in a plush armchair in his private club, sipping a drink and gazing out at the shimmering swimming pool.

No one could tell what he was thinking.

"Sean." Steward began cautiously, "I'm sorry, but | couldn't catch up. Her driving was just too fast."

Sean glanced up, his haughty and icy demeanor sending chills down Steward's spine.

"Was it her driving that was too fast, or did you not even catch a glimpse of her car? You wouldn't be lying to me, would you?" Sean

tossed a pillow at him in irritation.

Steward stood still, letting the pillow hit him, "By the t| got out there, | didn't even see a shadow of her car. | had sguys

check the traffic cams and it turned out that a bunch of them were damaged. I'm sorry, Sean. | failed."

Sean scoffed, swirling his glass of red wine.

"Sean, | reviewed the race footage. If that pebble wasn’t on the track, or if the race had been just two hundred meters longer. you

would've had it in the bag."

Sean's cold gaze swept over him, freezing him in place.

Clearly, such consolation was not only useless to Sean but also somewhat insulting.

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"Are you asking for a whooping?" Sean asked icily.

Steward bowed his head, "No, sir. | wouldn't dare."

Seeing Sean pour himself another glass of wine, Steward quickly added, "Sean, didn't that girl tonight seem a bit familiar to you?"

Sean finished his drink and gave his verdict, "She definitely looked punchable."

Steward cautiously changed the subject, "| meant her features, her face."

Sean did think there was a slight resemblance between her eyes and his mother's, but his supposed sister had reportedly grown up

in a humble home. It seemed unlikely that she'd have such looks and presence—probably more plain and unrefined.

Besides, she was the sage as Serena, just eighteen. At that age, she probably hadn't even gotten her driver's license, let

alone touched a steering wheel. It was unlikely for a girl from a modest background to learn to drive so quickly, let alone to reach

such a skilled level.

So, he dismissed the thought as quickly as it had appeared.

His own sister, driving better than him? That was just ridiculous.