Ultimate Choice System: I Became The Richest!

42  F1 Scout and Fame

As Noah was about to give Max his bank information, a man in a sharp suit, who seemed to materialize out of nowhere, stepped forward. His eyes glimmered with recognition and intent. "Excuse me," he said with a firm but friendly tone, extending his hand toward Noah. "I couldn't help but watch that performance. Truly remarkable."

Noah shook the man's hand. "Thanks," he said.

The man smiled, introducing himself. "My name's Jonathan Pierce. I'm a scout for Formula 1. I've been scouting talent for years, but I've never seen anything quite like that." He paused, studying Noah for a moment before asking, "And you are?"

"Noah Thompson," Noah responded coolly.

Jonathan's eyebrows shot up. "I've never seen you on the professional circuit. Are you a professional driver?"

Noah shook his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. "No. Just a casual driver."

The man blinked, clearly taken aback. He let out a short, polite laugh. "Casual? You're too humble, Noah." He leaned in slightly. "Listen, I've been around the best drivers in the world—Hamilton, Verstappen, you name it—and the way you handled that Lykan… It's unreal. I'd like to offer you a contract with F1. I'm convinced you've got the potential to be a champion. We can talk about it in more detail, but trust me, you're exactly what we're looking for."

Noah glanced at the business card Jonathan handed him, then back up at the man. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm still in school. My focus is there right now."

Jonathan stared at Noah for a moment, stunned by the nonchalant rejection. He wasn't used to being turned down, especially by someone as talented as Noah. "Are you sure?" Jonathan pressed gently. "I understand that education is important, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You could be the next big thing, Noah."

"A world champion," he emphasised, with shock in his voice that he couldn't hide. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Noah shook his head again, though his tone remained respectful. "Maybe in the future, but not right now. I'm focused on my studies and my family. Racing is just something I do for fun."

Jonathan's eyes widened in disbelief. "You're only 18?" He couldn't hide the shock in his voice. "With that level of skill? You're a monster in human flesh. You've got the talent most drivers dream of."

Max, standing nearby, had his jaw practically on the ground. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"This guy just turned down an F1 contract."

Max had spent years training, hoping, and praying to get an opportunity like that. And Noah had brushed it aside as if it were nothing.

Jonathan, finally accepting that Noah wasn't going to change his mind, sighed and pulled out another card. "If you change your mind, call me. My door is always open for you, Noah. You're something special, and I'll be ready anytime."

Noah nodded, slipping the card into his pocket. "I'll keep that in mind."

As Jonathan left, Max's bewilderment only grew. He turned to Noah, his eyes wide, trying to piece together what had just happened. "You just… turned down an F1 contract," Max muttered, still in shock. "That's what I've been training for, man. And you… just brushed it off."

Noah shrugged, unfazed. "I've got other priorities right now."

Max stared at him for a moment, his thoughts racing. "He really is a demon." No wonder he drove the way he did—it wasn't just about skill, it was about mindset. Noah didn't care about the fame or the money. He was on a different level, entirely focused on what mattered to him. It was terrifying and awe-inspiring at the same time.

Breaking Max out of his thoughts, Noah casually handed over his bank details. "Here, for the $100,000."

Max, still dazed, typed the information into his phone. "Right… $100,000… I'll send it tomorrow." He couldn't stop thinking about how Noah had made $100,000 from a race he'd clearly had no intention of losing, and then turned down millions in potential F1 earnings without batting an eye.

As Noah walked toward the Lykan, Max couldn't help but admire the sheer confidence that radiated from him. The way he handled the car, the race, the money—everything about Noah was larger than life. The crowd that had gathered to watch him was still buzzing with excitement.

Jackson, who had been watching the entire scene unfold, walked up, his eyes wide. He said, his voice dripping with admiration. "You're a casual driver, and you just casually turned down F1? Man, if I had your life, I'd be driving through the halls of my school every morning."

Noah chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, I've got my own path. Racing's fun, but it's not everything."

Jackson slapped him on the back, grinning. "You're one mysterious dude, Noah. But one thing's for sure—you're no ordinary driver. Not by a long shot."

As they shared a final laugh, Noah revved the Lykan's engine, the powerful growl filling the air. The onlookers, some still in awe of the car and the race, snapped pictures as he pulled out. It was another day, another victory for Noah—but to him, it was just a fun night with some friends and a quick $100,000 in his pocket.

But to everyone else, Noah Thompson was becoming a legend, and they had a feeling this was just the beginning.

As Noah drove back home in the Lykan HyperSport, the soft purr of the engine was like a quiet hum under the night sky.

Little did he know, somewhere on the internet, that a video of him racing had just been uploaded, and it was already going viral. The footage—taken from a shaky phone camera—captured his breathtaking drifts, impossible turns, and the sheer power of the Lykan as it sliced through the competition.

On TikTalk, the views began to skyrocket. Within an hour, the video had already racked up hundreds of thousands of views, and the comments section was buzzing with admiration and excitement.

"This dude must be Tony Toretto's secret brother!"

"Yo, is this the lost 'Fast and Furious' scene? That Lykan is on fire!"

The comments continued to roll in, a mix of humorous references to Fast and Furious, admiration for the mysterious driver's skills, and awe for the car itself.

"Forget Dom, I think this guy is the real family now."

"This guy's either insane or a lab specimen... maybe both?"

"Can we talk about how this man just casually drives a $3.4 million Lykan?!"

While Noah was oblivious to his sudden fame, somewhere across town, Sarah sat in her room, scrolling absentmindedly through her phone.

Racing videos were her guilty pleasure—a reminder of the night Noah had taken her to the track. The roar of engines, the screeching tyres, the rush of adrenaline—those were memories she treasured, even if she knew she shouldn't.

Then, one video caught her attention.

The title alone made her heart skip a beat: "Lykan HyperSport Dominates the Tracks!"

The camera wasn't the best, but Sarah could make out enough. The way the car moved, hugging each corner with precision, daring death with every reckless turn, it was unmistakable. Noah. It had to be.

She didn't need to see his face, didn't need to hear a name. Her heart knew before her mind could catch up. It was Noah behind the wheel. The way he drove—flawless, fearless, and so dangerously fast—was a signature she could never forget.

Her mind raced, replaying that first night when she had been in the passenger seat, clutching the edge of her seat as Noah weaved through the track, pushing limits she didn't know existed.

Her heart had fluttered then, the excitement of the ride mixed with the thrill of being with someone so... alive.

"Why did he have to be so perfect"

A flood of memories rushed in, unbidden. Noah, standing in her kitchen, cooking for her—the romantic dinner that had made her feel young again, desired in a way she hadn't felt in years.

 His easy smile, his gentle way of making her laugh. It had felt real, and in those moments, Sarah had let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could truly have something more.

Then came the night it all shattered. Layla. The shock in her daughter's voice when she had seen Noah in their home. The horrible realization that Noah had been Layla's so-called "boyfriend." Sarah hadn't known. Layla had never told her. And when Layla confronted Noah, Sarah's heart had broken.

She'd seen the truth in Noah's eyes when he told Layla that there was never a real relationship, that they hadn't even held hands.

 Layla, as always, had spun stories, creating fantasies where there were none. Sarah knew her daughter well—too well. She knew Layla's jealousy, and her tendency to twist reality when she didn't get what she wanted.

But even knowing that Sarah couldn't shake the feeling. That maybe... maybe she had just been Noah's revenge. Maybe he had only spent time with her to get back at Layla for cheating on him.

That thought had plagued her in the days since their last conversation, gnawing at her like a poison she couldn't shake.

Now, watching this video, her heart ached.

"Why, Noah?" she muttered softly to herself, her voice barely a whisper.

"Why couldn't you just disappear from my life entirely? Why bring back the good memories, the ones I know I can never have again?" Tears welled in her eyes as the video looped again, the Lykan speeding through the tracks like a wild beast.

She wished she hadn't watched it. She wished she could erase the memories of their time together, the laughter, the thrill, the soft moments in between where she'd felt something more.

She wiped her eyes, her chest tightening. Noah was her daughter's ex—how could she ever move past that? How could she allow herself to feel for him when the thought of Layla's reaction haunted her?

But deep down, she knew. Noah hadn't been with her for revenge. He wasn't the type. She had seen the way he looked at her, the sincerity in his eyes when he had said he cared. But it didn't change the reality of their situation.

Sarah closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath. "I can't."

She muttered to herself, trying to push away the longing that clung to her heart.

"You're my daughter's ex, Noah. I can't. I just... can't."

But as much as she tried to convince herself, the truth was there, unyielding and undeniable. She still cared about him. And it was tearing her apart.

Sarah was clearly conflicted. Her emotions twisted and turned, leaving her feeling like she was caught in a storm with no shelter.

Every time she tried to make sense of it all, another wave of doubt and confusion crashed over her, pulling her deeper into the chaos. She kept searching for any excuse, any reason to push Noah away, to convince herself that it was the right thing to do.

"He was Layla's ex," she kept repeating as if the words would magically erase her feelings.

But no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts contradicted one another. One moment, she was angry, telling herself that Noah had only been using her. The next, she was remembering the warmth in his eyes, the way he made her feel alive again.

"It wasn't real, was it?" she questioned, but deep down, she knew that wasn't true.

Her emotions were unstable, shifting from guilt to longing, from frustration to hope. She wanted to believe that she was just a distraction for Noah, that she was nothing more than a rebound from his brief, ill-defined relationship with Layla.

 But that didn't match the way he had treated her, the way he had listened to her, laughed with her and made her feel seen in a way she hadn't in years.

Yet, Sarah couldn't see the contradiction in her own heart. Her fear and guilt blinded her to the reality of what she felt.

The internal struggle raged on, and the more she tried to push Noah away, the more she felt the tug of her feelings pulling her back toward him.

"Why does it have to be so complicated?" she thought, as her heart and mind continued to battle, leaving her in turmoil.

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