The Double or more Life of the Fake Heiress (Mirabella) novel Chapter 697

Jay felt utterly powerless as he was shoved into the passenger seat. When he looked up, he locked eyes with Emerson, who was sitting behind the wheel, his face pale as a ghost.

"Emerson, man, are you alright? Did they do anything to you?" Jay asked anxiously.

Emerson gripped the steering wheel tightly, looking at Jay with regret. "Bro, I'm so sorry. This is all on me."

Jay's eyes welled up with emotion, and just as he was about to speak, he heard the car doors lock with a loud click. He frantically pushed against the door, but it was firmly shut, impossible to open.

"Bro, it's no use. This car's been specially modified with AI tech. Without the owner's command, these locks won't budge," Emerson said with a wry smile.

"What the hell do they want from us?" Jay's voice was tight, his teeth clenched in frustration.

Emerson's eyes shifted to the road ahead, a mix of despair and numbness in his voice, "They want us to experience what it feels like to race against death."

Jay's eyes widened in horror.

The car had already started on its own, speeding towards the coastal highway at a breakneck pace.

Emerson could control the steering, but the brakes under his feet were completely unresponsive.

The coastal highway was notorious for its treacherous curves. Without expert driving skills, it was all too easy to smash through the guardrails and plummet off a cliff or crash into the ocean.

And with the car's brakes out of commission, it truly was a race against death.

As they rounded the first curve without slowing down, Jay felt his heart nearly stop at the close brush with disaster.

He had never felt so close to death.

The two brothers were as pale as sheets.

And there were nine more curves ahead.

Meanwhile, Grady leaned casually against his car door, engrossed in a video on his phone that he had watched countless times.

"Huh?" The assistant was momentarily confused.

"I mean, how many laps has the car done?" clarified Grady.

"Just one," the assistant finally understood. The housekeeper was inquiring about how many near-death laps Emerson and his brother had completed.

"Oh, then have someone monitor them for another... twenty laps," Grady said nonchalantly as he straightened up and opened the car door behind him.

The assistant touched his nose, remarking, "You know, tossing them into the sea for the fish would be much simpler, boss. Why all this complexity?"

That's how they used to handle things.

Grady glanced at him, "I've told you, we're living in civilized times now. We need to handle things in a civilized manner."

The assistant's lips twitched involuntarily, thinking to himself, isn't this even more cruel than a straightforward kill?