Chapter 18

Dylan gritted his teeth, hopped into the Benz, and sped off. The crowd scattered balloons and paper boxes, then dispersed. Azalea exhaled slowly, giving Gilbert a complex look. Despite his help today, Azalea felt truly protected for the first time in two years, a new and calming sensation washing over her.

"Come on, I'll take you home," Gilbert offered as Azalea prepared to leave in her wheelchair.

"What about our car?" she asked, pointing to the Ferrari.

"Everyone's gone," Gilbert said. "You don't need to keep up the act."

Azalea glanced at the Ferrari, surprise flickering in her eyes, but she shook her head. She knew she didn't belong in the world of luxury.

"What do you mean?" Gilbert was taken aback by her words.

"I've been taking care of you for two years, so don't put on a show for me, okay?" Azalea gestured towards the Ferrari. "Did you rent this car?"

"No," Gilbert shook his head.

"Good," Azalea sighed. "You can't even afford to rent this car."

"I can afford to buy one, though