Downtown #2
"They're voting for the winning teams!" she says, her jaw dropping in shock that we have absolutely no clue what is happening. She gestures toward an upper platform to our left. "And if you think you have what it takes, you can sign up over there. Maybe you'll get a chance to prove yourself ."
" You mean to race?" I ask, my stomach dropping. I don't understand this place at all.
Maria looks just as confused. "So this is just another racing show, like the one Lorenzo throws at the warehouse?"
The girl vigorously shakes her head. "No, it's way better. This," she says, opening her arms wide to encompass the entire subterranean cavern, "Is Santos's way."
"Okay... and what does that mean?"
"It means it's a million times better than the corporate shit Weststar throws."
She checks her phone and steps backward into the crowd.
"But I gotta go. If you're up for the challenge, I bet they wouldn't mind having some company up there."
She points toward a restricted VIP upper deck.
"Oh, and if you know anyone tough enough to participate in the actual show? Warn them that they might die."
She bursts into a loud laugh, leaving us completely frozen, unable to tell if she is joking or dead serious.
We make our way up the sweeping concrete ramp, passing dancing crowds as we head toward the upper platform. Up here, a long line of motorbikes is lined up, with several rough-looking guys crowding around them.
"Shopi!" Maria pinches my shoulder, making me turn in her direction. I follow her gaze to the far end of the area. It is Santos. He sits on his bike like a king, grinning down at the crowd surrounding him. "What is the deal here?" Maria asks me, but I am asking myself the exact same question.
"We call it the final show," a guy suddenly appears, grinning at Maria before nodding at me.
"The final show?" I add, further pulling my gaze away from Santos's group.
"Yes, it's tonight. We will see if Weststar or downtown takes the prize," he says, taking a sip of his drink.
"Okay, fine, but what is the prize?" Maria asks.
"Well, you can say what you want. If you dare to participate, you might have a chance to win it. But if you lose, you have to pay your debt, either in cash or by working it off over time."
This is it.
I almost drop my cup of alcohol. They are not just throwing illegal races. They make people believe they have a chance to win, lure them into participating in this sick, dangerous game, and when they lose, they end up in their debt.
"So, this Santos guy is the one throwing it?"
"No one really knows how it started, but because Santos won last time, he is allowed to choose the area and the day."
Now I understand.
The timing, the parties, the shows at the warehouse, they all took place because Lorenzo was winning, so he was able to pick the location and the conditions. But because Weststar lost last time, it is now Santos's turn to show off.
"I didn't know," Maria says, turning to me. "Really, I thought it was just for entertainment at the warehouse," she tries to explain and I nod.
"It is," the guy says, stepping closer to Maria. "We can both watch the show from up there." He grins, throwing an arm around her shoulder and making her look up in shock.
"No, thanks," Maria says, her voice dropping to a hard edge.
But the guy doesn't take the hint. He keeps his arm around her shoulder, a smug smirk spreadingacross his face. "What did you say, sweetheart?"
"Are you deaf or what?"
Before the guy can even blink, a hand shoots out of the crowd, gripping his wrist and violently shoving his arm off Maria. The force makes him stumble back three steps, his boots skidding against the floor.
Alex Saint steps into the space beside Maria. He looks imposing, his posture rigid and dangerously ticked off.
"Make me repeat it for you," Alex grinds out, his voice a low, lethal purr, "and you won't live long enough to regret what happens next."
The guy's eyes dilate with instant recognition as he looks from Maria to Alex. "You... you're Weststar chicks?" he mutters, pale under the flashing lights. Realizing he is entirely out of his depth, he raises his hands in surrender, turns on his heel, and vanishes into the sea of bodies.
"Thanks, but I have that completely handled," Maria snaps, though her chest is still heaving. She looks up at Alex, refusing to let him see her shaken.
He is dressed entirely in black, a heavy leather biker jacket hanging open over a dark shirt. The fabric stretches tight across his chest, and through the opening, a labyrinth of dark ink spills across his collarbone and stretches all the way down his muscular arms.
"Sure you did princess," Alex mocks, a slow, infuriating grin playing on his lips.
Then, his gaze flicks over to me. His eyes are cold, sharp, and entirely unbothered. "You're not much of a listener, are you?" Before I can find my voice, he turns back to Maria, his eyes locking onto her face a second too long. "Didn't know this is the kind of trashy party you like, princess."
"Didn't know you are so obsessed with my life, Saint," she spits back, her eyes flashing with pure fire.
With a sharp turn, she rips herself away from him. And flips her hair forcefully, her red strands smackingright across his face. Alex doesn't move an inch, but his grin vanishes. A muscle in his jaw clenches hard enough to snap.
She ooens her mouth to say something to me , but the words die in her throat. Her eyes suddenly go wide looking at someone materializing right behind my shoulder.
The air in the room suddenly turned to ice. The heavy bass of the music seemed to fade into a dull hum, and a heavy, suffocating silence settled over our corner of the room.
Without even turning around, I know. It is him.
?Told you she would come," Alex mutters , a smug grin on his face.
?Sì. Looks like you were right," Lorenzo grinds out.
His voice is a low, gravelly vibration that sends an involuntary shiver straight down my spine.
I finally force myself to turn around and look up at him.
He is wearing a heavy leather jacket just like Alex's, but on Lorenzo, it doesn't just look like clothing, it looks like armor.
His sheer presence is suffocating, instantly shrinking the crowded space around us until there is only him.
?I told you to stay out of this," he growls, his dark eyes locking onto mine with lethal intensity.