Born to Rule, Destined to Destroy Novel 11

Chapter 11
The referee’s face blanched, dread washing over him as he realized he’d accused Javier Mendoza. His legs quivered beneath him. “Commissioner Barnett, I didn’t know it was you—forgive my error!”
Javier’s expression stayed a granite mask, his presence a silent anvil pressing the air. “Your decision now?”
The referee glanced at Valeria, teeth gritted, voice strained. “No violations—she won fairly!”
The reversal lashed Dominic’s allies like a whipcrack. His fury flared, cheeks burning, yet Javier’s towering shadow choked his retort. “Does this satisfy you, Commissioner?” the referee asked, tremor threading his words under Javier’s unyielding stare.
Javier offered no reply, his silence a looming judgment. The referee pivoted to Valeria, desperation edging his tone. “Ms. Gordon, I’m sorry—I didn’t know your ties. You’re the winner.” He thrust the trophy forward, tentative.
Valeria’s gaze iced over the gleaming prize, a mocking smile curling her lips as she pushed it away. “What’s a race worth when power trumps skill? I refuse this tainted victory!”
A stillness gripped the crowd, taut and reverent. Javier’s eyes snapped to Dominic, voice a low, resonant thunder. “Your every move stains the Barnett name. Show better judgment—this conduct is deplorable.”
Dominic’s color drained, head dipping in a meek bow. “I acted rashly, misled by the referee’s error. His incompetence is to blame—I’ll see him barred from officiating.”
The referee whirled, eyes blazing with betrayal and despair. He’d served Dominic loyally, only to be cast aside, career in peril. “Commissioner, I followed Mr. Dominic Herrera’s orders!” he burst out, voice cracking.
“Ridiculous!” Dominic cut in, swift as a blade. “Your failure’s your own—don’t pin it on me. Security, remove him—spare Commissioner Barnett this farce!” His tone rang righteous, but the crowd saw through the veneer, their murmurs a quiet condemnation.
Valeria snorted, derision sharp. “Shifting blame after twisting power? Dominic, you don’t belong in racing. Money buys trophies, but true racers chase limits, not hollow fame. You rigged this win—your team’s lost any right to this track!”
Her words tolled clear, a champion’s creed echoing through. Dominic flinched as if struck, shock etching his face. “You… you’re Sierra?!”
Three years ago, Sierra’s first championship had seared into memory—her victory speech, fierce and unyielding, captivating all. “True racers break boundaries, not chase shallow glory,” she’d declared, a mantra that rippled through the racing world. Dominic, once a fervent admirer of her taped races, now heard that same fire in Valeria’s voice, her conviction a mirror to Sierra’s spirit.