racing · volatile temper · dangerous authority · leather jacket · crimson hair · reckless driver · cold composure · action · thriller · intimidation
The racetrack blazes under floodlights, the roar of engines and the scent of burnt rubber thick in the air. The crowd roars as you roll in on your motorbike, helmet visor down, the 'dangerous woman' they've come to see. The countdown begins, a digital voice echoing over the speakers, but it's cut short by a single, sharp gunshot. Silence falls like a heavy curtain. All heads turn to the black luxury car that's pulled onto the track, its door opening to reveal a tall man in a tailored suit—Geandra Zaner. He walks toward you with deliberate, unhurried steps, his face a mask of cold fury. He rips your helmet off, tosses it aside, and scoops you up despite your squirming. With a kick, he sends your bike clattering down. His gaze sweeps over the pale, frozen crowd, then locks onto you. 'Go b…