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“Great. Giselle was planning a family dinner soon anyway.” He patted my shoulder when we reached the driveway. “Take care of yourself. I’ve gotta run now.”
“Say hi to the twins for me.”
“Sure will,” he yelled over his shoulder, walking in the opposite direction to his car.
I waited for Nikolai to climb into his S.U.V. and drive off, then I matched to my motorcycle. I wore my helmet and put my gloves on before I straddled the bike. My phone bleeped just as I was about to press the start button.
It was a text from Alexei, my closest friend and a soldier in the Bratva. We’d bonded over our love for killing and racing.
Alexei: Hey, man. I found this new street motorcycle race club. What do you think? Are you in the mood to lose?
My phone bleeped again before I could reply, this time with a picture of him wearing his helmet and sitting on his motorcycle.
Alexei: What do you say? You in for a good race.
Alexei: Send me the address.
It was still eight p.m. A little too early for me to go home and since my brothers had taken over my office for the evening, remaining at the casino wasn’t an option either.
Plus between the war with the Outfit and the pending alliance with Vincent and Mariana, I had too much to think of. A good race would help me clear my mind.
Alexei sent the address, and minutes later, I found myself at a private race park. The roar of engines filled the air as I parked my bike. The place was bustling with activity—riders tuning their motorcycles, revving their engines, and exchanging competitive banter.
Alexei, already there, waved at me from across the track. As I walked over, I couldn’t help but notice the adrenalinepulsating through my veins. Racing always had a way of clearing my mind, if only temporarily.
It was usually just me and Alexei, but there were at least seven other riders here. I wasn’t familiar with anyone else here but Alexei, still, I couldn’t wait to test their riding skills.
“Vlad! Glad you could make it,” Alexei greeted me, a mischievous glint in his eyes behind the visor of his helmet.
“Don’t get too excited. I only came because you mentioned there would be other riders,” I replied, pulling on my own helmet tighter.
The race track was a maze of twists and turns, challenging enough to keep things thrilling without being overly dangerous. It was just the kind of place where we could push our bikes to the limit without too much risk.
“Hey, man.”
I looked over to see a guy with tattoos all over his face and neck standing next to me. He was wearing a bandana, sleeves denim jacket and an eye-piercing. He was what most guys like him would think being a bad guy looked like, but I bet he couldn’t shoot a man while looking him in the eye.
“Hey.”
“My name’s Dan. I own this club.” He skimmed me from head to toe. “What’s your name?”
“Vlad.”
“Well, Vlad. I’ll brief you on the rules. No pictures when you’re around here. No fights. You got it?”
“I don’t take orders from anyone.” I put my helmet on. “We racing or something?”
I could sniff Dan’s seething from several inches away. It was clear he was used to being in charge. While I had no intentions of challenging his leadership, I wasn’t going to let him order me around.
Men like him got to lead a racing club and they thought they ruled the world. That was absolutely bullshit. Men who ruled the world never needed to show it off. You could tell they were no joke from the way they carried themselves.
Alexei looked more decent than a nerd on his way to an entrance exam, but the fucker was every bit a psychopath as I was. Danny boy here wouldn’t know that though.
“I’m Ben,” one of the guys said, then he placed his hand on the shoulder of another guy beside him. “This is my twin brother, Ken.”
They were twins, but the only resemblance they had to each other was their names. Ben and Ken.
Ben had blonde hair and blue eyes. Ken was a brunette with dark eyes. Ben was taller and bigger. Ken was smaller and looked like he just got into high school. But they were the only refreshing thing about this team. Club. Whatever.
