bChapter /bb192 /b

    Haider’s POV:

    It was a normal bike helmet. Well… as normal as one with cat ears could look like. It was a matte ck, with two small, triangr protrusions at the top that gave it a strangely menacing but cute look. It wasn’t “coquettish” at all, as I had first thought.

    “Yes,” she answered, her voice still muffled butpletely straight–forward. There was no hint of a smile, ino /iedge of sarcasm in her tone. It was a simple, t deration, like she couldn’t care less that I was teasing her. Which, to my surprise, only made me want to do it more. Herck of reaction was a challenge, a wall I was suddenly, inexplicably,

    determined to climb.

    “And you’re Rose?” I questioned, my brow raised. She nodded. She didn’t even bother to speak this time, as if the effort of a single word was too much to expend on me.

    I chuckled, the sound more a reaction to my own stubbornness than to her silence. “You remind me of my great–aunt. Her name is Rose as well,” I said, a yful smile on my lips. I heard a few snickers ripple through the crowd around me. The name, I realized, didn’t exactly conjure images of a hardened street racer. I watched for a reaction, for any flicker of annoyance in her bodynguage.

    This time, however, she did react. She wentpletely stiff, and finally spoke, her voice lower now. “I am not your aunt.” Her voice held a finality that made me pause.

    I nodded, the amusement fading from my face. “I know that, of course… She’s way taller than you, even at eighty years, old,” I teased, my voice taking on a gentler tone. I wasn’t trying to anger her. I think…

    “Are you trying to make me upset?” she finally asked, her head tilting slightly. I frowned. Wow. She really was kind of stupid, wasn’t she? The cute kind of stupid of course.

    “Well… not really. I would love to see you smile, though. Rose, are you not from around here?” I questioned, my voice taking on a softer, more conversational tone. I was fishing, and I knew it. My curiosity was no longer just about the race; it was about the girl in front of me. Who was she? Why did she feel so familiar?

    She seemed to look away, her head turning to the side. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. It was ringing, the caller ID disying ‘Aunt.‘ My brows rose as I watched her pick up the call mid–conversation, turning her back to me to talk quietly.

    I waited for her to take off her helmet, thinking she’d get ufortable sooner orter. But no, even after most of the crowd dispersed and her five–minute talk with her aunt was over, she didn’t remove the helmet.

    I’d gotten busy conversing with the guys about the prize pool tonight, which had jumped to a whopping 80k at little Miss

    Rose’s arrival.

    “People are waiting for you two topete. They think only you can beat her, everyone else already tried,” Archie said, pulling out his lollipop and cing it in his mouth.

    “Me? Against her?” I questioned.

    “What’s wrong with that?” someone asked, their voiceing from right behind me.

    I snapped my head around to see Rose standing behind me. I shook my head, unable to help the smile that grew on bmy /blips. Standing this close… she was short, a full foot shorter than me, and her frame was curvy.

    Was it just my illusion? Why did she remind me unassuming.

    of… Sienna? She was wearing all ck, just like Sienna, her clothes just as

    “I challenge you to a duel,” she said, her voice confident.

    My brows rose. I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped me. The word was so old–fashioned, so dramatic. It was a word out of a movie, not an illegal street race.

    iope /ish

    face now.

    “A duel?” I questioned, a wide, genuine grin on my She nodded. “In return, if I win, you’ll owe me a favor.” She said it so confidently that I felt taken aback. Most people only bet with money around here. Favors and such were rare, reserved for those who had something to hide, or something to gain that couldn’t be quantified in dors.

    So that intrigued me even more. After all, I didn’t do this for money. I did it for excitement. The favor was a wild card, a variable I couldn’t control, and that made the game so much more thrilling.

    “Alright… but if I win… you’ll take off this helmet,” I said, my voice low and filled with a dare. She stiffened, and I knew I had hit the jackpot. Her head pulled back slightly, as if she were contemting my words.

    But then, with a slow nod, she answered. “Alright.”

    With that deal made, we both proceeded towards our own cars. The crowd roared in approval, their shouts a deafening sound in the open air. I finally realized that her car wasn’t ordinary either. It was a Legacy Wraith. Mom was a fan of

    Seraphina Legacy, and even though she owned her own car brand, she had at least three models of Legacy cars in her two story garage. It was a stunning piece of machinery, a true rival to my Vespira.

    The excitement inside me couldn’t help but grow as I settled into my car. The leather seats hugged my body. I pulled the door closed, and the world outside became a muffled, distant sound. The engine purred to life, the area slowly cleared, and soon the countdown began as a man came to stand in between our cars with a g.

    “3…2…1!”

    The horn blew, and I pressed down on the gas pedal, the engine roaring to life with a powerful, guttural sound. The car shot forward. My eyes were fixed on the road, my hands a firm grip on the steering wheel. The car picked up speed, the world outside bing a blur of lights and colors as I shifted gears.

    I swerved around a corner, the tires screeching in protest as I drifted, my body leaning into the curve, feeling the G–forces. press against me. Her car was right on my tail, a silent, menacing shadow that seemed to have no trouble keeping up. I pressed the pedal harder, the engine screaming as the car ate up the asphalt.

    She was good. Really good. I saw her car pull up next to me, her headlights a blinding sh in my periphery. My heart pounded hard in my chest as I nced at the car racing right next to me, anticipation licking my insides, turning them up

    in mes.

    Was I actually going to lose? The Legacy was faster than mine. But…. faster doesn’t always mean stable. I kept going, the race progressed with her in the lead, up until we reached the final steepest curve and I smirked.

    Her car seemed to falter then, for a split second as it swerved unstably. A small, almost imperceptible hesitation. I took my

    b13:16 /bWedb, /b17 bSept /b

    chance, a sudden, powerful swerve that sent her car to the side, my tires kicking up a cloud of dust. I pressed the pedal to the floor, my hands firm on the wheel, and the car shot forward.

    I heard the roar of the crowd, the sound of their excitement and shock. The finish line was a bright, gleaming line in the distance, and I crossed it.

    I brought the Vespira to a drifting stop. My heart was pounding hard in my chest, a frantic drum against my ribs. I pulled the door open and stepped outside, making my way towards her car just as she herself stepped out

    “Well? I won.” I said, a wide, genuine grin on my face as I looked at her, my eyes fixed on the ck helmet. I heard her audible sigh as her hands moved up to finally pull the helmet off of her head.

    I stiffened, the air leaving my lungs. The helmet came off, and a waterfall of jet–ck, pine–straight hair fell around her shoulders. Her phoenix eyes, so familiar and so haunting, met mine.

    Fucking hell. My intuition had been correct.

    “Howe it’s always you?” I couldn’t help but finally question.

    A