The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 601

Chapter 601

The driver glanced at the rearview mirror, his brow furrowing with confusion. “That van next to us keeps swerving over for no reason. It nearly hit us.”

Ivy Windsor was already on edge, and the moment she heard this, she snapped her head to look out the window.

Sure enough, a van was tailing them in the right lane. The windows were completely blacked out–nothing visible inside under the streetlights.

If anything, that only convinced Ivy something was wrong with the van.

Had she miscalculated?

Was the Carter family really after her?

Or were they planning to target both her and Jamison–Ludwig at once?

The thought sent a jolt through her. Instantly, Ivy was on high alert.

“Stay calm. Keep both hands on the wheel, and don’t panic. I’m calling the police,” she instructed, steadying both herself and the young driver.

Jamison was tied up with work, and while she could reach out to Boyd Ludwig for help, he’d just call the police anyway.

She might as well handle it herself.

Just as she dialed 911, the Maserati/swerved sharply.

The driver, a hot–blooded twenty–something, thought the van was just some road–rager picking a fight. He cursed under his breath, jerked the steering wheel,

and tried to cut the van off in retaliation.

Ivy grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Don’t! Just keep your cool–don’t provoke them!”

The line connected. The dispatcher’s voice came through, and Ivy quickly explained, “Hello, I need help. There’s someone driving aggressively, repeatedly cutting us off and trying to crash into my car.”

The dispatcher asked for their location. Ivy craned her neck to check outside, searching for street signs. “We’re on Silvercrest Boulevard, right near-”

Before she could finish, the van that had been harassing them suddenly veered in front of their car and slammed on the brakes.

1/2

18:06

The driver didn’t react in time. There was a sickening crunch as the Maserati rear–ended the van.

The young man, still fuming, didn’t even check on Ivy. He unclipped his seatbelt, jumped out, and started arguing with the van’s driver.

Ivy had no idea if these guys were sent by the Carter family, or if there were more dangers lurking nearby. She stayed put, reporting the accident to 911.

Within seconds, two police motorcycles roared up.

Seeing the officers, Ivy finally exhaled, opened her door, and stepped out.

The van was driven by two tattooed men. When the officers questioned them, they shouted back defiantly, “So what if she drives a fancy car? She cut us off first! Yeah, I did it on purpose. Fine me, arrest me, whatever–you won’t get a cent out of me!”

They were clearly there to cause trouble. Ivy didn’t want to get dragged into their game, so she called Boyd, asking him to send someone to pick her up.

There was no way she’d risk getting another ride alone tonight. For all she knew, the Carter family had planned a second “accident.”

Half an hour later, Boyd arrived at the scene with two bodyguards.

A tow truck had just pulled up to haul away the Maserati, which now had smashed front end.

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