Stephan
The air on the terrace was hot and sticky, yet it wasn't enough to cool the fire still burning in my veins.
From up there, Hong Kong looked like an endless circuit of neon lights. I, on the other hand, felt like a wreck.
I saw Nora across the room, standing next to Gena Irish. The Viper was saying something to her with that venomous smile I knew all too well. My body reacted before my brain: I took a step forward, my fists already clenched.
A strong hand blocked my arm.
"Stop," Liam Vance said softly. "This isn't a racetrack, Wilson. Words kill more than cars."
I clenched my jaw, never taking my eyes off Nora.
"Look closer," Liam continued, jerking his chin toward the center of the terrace. "See who's sitting at Zandar's table?"
Jimin Zandar sat comfortably in a black velvet armchair, elegant as ever. Next to him was a nondescript man: in his fifties, with thin glasses and a light gray suit. He looked like a simple bank clerk. But everyone who passed by lowered their gaze or changed direction.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"The CEO of Tech-Titan. They're the ones who provided the telemetry sensors and security system for Adriano's car." Liam paused, then lowered his voice even further. "If you really want to know why that car went up in flames that day… you should ask him. But be prepared. The answer could cost you dearly. Much more expensive than an F1 contract."
I felt a cold knot in my stomach.
My gaze searched for Nora again. At that precise moment, she turned. Our eyes met across the room, amidst crystal, fake laughter, and the scent of dirty money.
For a second, I saw everything again: her body against mine two nights before, the anger, the desire, the pain. Then she looked away, as if the contact had burned her.
Across the terrace, Zuri Davis was staring at me. She didn't blink. Her black eyes were like bullets pointed at me. She didn't need to speak. The message was clear: *If you hurt her, I'll kill you.*
I ran a hand over my face. All around us was luxury: beautiful women, oligarchs, champagne flowing like gasoline. The international press had started calling us "the new frontier of motorsport," "heroes without rules."
What fucking heroes.
We were just cannon fodder.
Schavi, beautifully dressed.
Every overtake, every victory, every night of sex and champagne was just another debt to be paid to these monsters in suits.
Liam patted me on the shoulder, almost compassionately.
"Welcome to the real championship, Spear. Here, you don't just race to come first. You race to survive long enough to pay the bill."
I took a glass from a waiter's tray and drained it in one gulp. The Cristal tasted of nothing.
I looked back at Zandar and the Tech-Titan CEO. They were talking intently, smiling, like two old friends.
Whatever they were deciding at that moment, I knew only one thing: someone would soon pay with blood.
And I was starting to fear that that someone might be Nora.