Vanessa''s hands tightened around the wheel as she gunned the accelerator, her car roaring as it shot forward.

    Ahead of her, Rafaelle Moretti did the same, his sleek black car weaving aggressively across the track, determined to hold his ground.

    They had both fought their way through the competition, taking down rivals one by one, and now — only one racer stood between them and first place.

    But neither was willing to let the other take the lead.

    The dust kicked up behind their tires as they raced side by side, their cars barely inches apart.

    Vanessa stole a quick glance at Rafaelle through her side mirror.

    His expression was intense, his focus razor-sharp.

    Unlike the dirty racers she had faced before, Rafaelle wasn''t trying to cheat his way to victory.

    He was playing fair.

    But that didn''t mean he wasn''t playing hard.

    The next turn was coming up — a sharp left followed by a long stretch of road leading into the final lap.

    The perfect place to make a move.

    Vanessa''s mind calculated her options.

    She could wait for the straightaway and rely on raw speed.

    Or she could force an opening now, while Rafaelle was still focused on defending.

    She chose the latter.

    Her foot pressed down on the pedal, her car lurched forward.

    She inched ahead, trying to take the inside lane of the turn.

    But Rafaelle saw it coming.

    He wasn''t about to let her through so easily.

    With a quick flick of the wheel, he cut in front of her, blocking her path.

    Vanessa gritted her teeth, barely avoiding a collision.

    She slammed the brakes, skidding just enough to prevent a crash, then swiftly maneuvered her car to the right.

    But Rafaelle matched her move for move.

    He was testing her.

    Waiting to see if she''d make a mistake under pressure.

    Vanessa refused to give him that satisfaction.

    She let out a slow breath, forcing herself to stay calm.

    The track ahead narrowed, the road sloping slightly downward, making it harder to control speed.

    Rafaelle took advantage of the terrain, pulling slightly ahead, his car hugging the curve perfectly.

    Vanessa knew if she let him gain any more distance, she might not be able to catch up before the final stretch.

    She had to act now.

    Her eyes flickered to the edge of the road.

    A risky shortcut appeared — just a small patch of dirt barely wide enough to squeeze through.

    A regular racer wouldn''t dare use it.

    He wasn''t about to lose, though.

    He executed the same maneuver — but Vanessa had the edge.

    Her car shot out of the turn first, taking the lead.

    She had done it.

    She was ahead.

    The roar of the engines was deafening as the racers surged forward into the final lap.

    This was the moment that defined the entire race — one mistake and it was all over.

    Vanessa''s pulse pounded in her ears as she gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white.

    She could feel the sweat on her palms, but she didn''t dare let it distract her.

    Every second counted now.

    Rafaelle Moretti was right on her tail.

    The Italian driver had proven himself a formidable opponent, keeping up with her every move, refusing to fall behind.

    He was aggressive, calculated, and just as desperate for victory as she was.

    Vanessa clenched her jaw, narrowing her eyes as the track stretched ahead of them.

    Five more turns.

    One final stretch.

    One winner.

    Her car shuddered as she took another sharp drift, the tires screeching against the pavement.

    She barely regained control before gunning the accelerator, propelling herself forward.

    But Rafaelle wasn''t backing down either.

    He was pushing back. Hard.

    His sleek black car inched closer, his front bumper nearly kissing the back of hers.

    Vanessa could sense his strategy. He wanted to force her into a mistake.

    Either she would take a turn too fast and spin out...

    Or she would be forced to slow down, giving him the lead.

    Not happening.

    She gritted her teeth, determination flaring in her chest.

    She had fought too hard for this.

    She wasn''t about to let anyone take it from her.

    The next turn came — a brutal left that required a near-perfect drift.

    She took a deep breath.

    Her foot tapped the brake, just enough to adjust her speed before she spun the wheel.

    Her car whipped sideways, the back tires skidding dangerously close to the track''s edge.

    But she held on.

    The crowd roared as she executed a flawless drift, pulling out of the turn with speed.