Chapter 13: A Race Worth Dying For
Chapter 13: A Race Worth Dying For
Engines roared like untamed beasts.
Three sleek sports cars sliced through the mountain road, their tires screaming against the fresh asphalt. Sparks flew under the moonlight. The night air pulsed with adrenaline and smoke as the crowd at the mountain’s base erupted in wild cheers.
At the finish line, a silver bullet streaked past first.
The crowd went insane.
“Sammy! Sammy! Sammy!”
Flowers, champagne, and flashing cameras. The driver jumped out—a boy Elira’s age, tall and dangerously handsome, dressed head-to-toe in designer gear. A diamond earring glinted on his ear as he smirked, soaking in the adoration like royalty.
Girls screamed his name. One, with long wavy curls, rushed forward and draped herself over his arm.
“Sammy, you’re incredible!”
Sammy took a lazy drag from his cigarette and pulled her closer without a glance. He loved the spotlight. He owned it.
Two boys climbed out of their cars, clapping him on the back.
“Bro, that new ride is savage!”
“The performance—unmatched!”
Sammy chuckled, his voice dripping arrogance.
“It’s not the car. It’s me. Even in my old junk, you losers couldn’t touch me.”
Laughter rippled through the rich crowd. These were Sundrift City’s elite—the ones who lived in penthouses and burned money like paper. Dylan Carter, the mayor’s son, was among them, grinning like the devil.
Sammy flicked his cigarette. His voice sliced through the night.
“Don’t forget—$75,000 each. Transfer it now.”
Groans, gritted teeth—but no one dared refuse. Sammy had crushed every single race tonight. He always did.
“This isn’t fun anymore,” one muttered under his breath. “No one can beat you.”
“Not fun?” Sammy’s grin widened, eyes glittering with mischief. “Let’s make it fun. Same deal as last night—” He raised his voice for the whole crowd to hear. “I’ll give a 20-second head start to anyone who wants to challenge me. Beat me, and I’ll hand you $150,000. Right here. Right now.”
The crowd gasped.
One hundred and fifty grand.
The energy crackled like live wire. Boys exchanged glances, itching to step forward… but fear choked them. They’d seen what happened last night. Two dared to try—and ended up humiliated. One almost flew off the cliff.
Sammy wasn’t just rich. He was powerful. His family ruled Paragon City’s underworld of money and influence. Even Dylan Carter, the mayor’s golden boy, treated him like a king.
Dylan cupped his hands around his mouth, his voice booming,
“Come on! No takers? Where are your guts?!”
Silence.
Until—
“I’ll do it.”
The voice cut through the noise like a blade. Calm. Cold. Deadly.
Heads snapped.
The crowd parted. A girl stepped forward, hands deep in her pockets. School uniform. Messy ponytail. Her body wasn’t slim, but her delicate features glowed under the neon lights. She wasn’t beautiful in the usual way—she was magnetic. Every step she took radiated quiet dominance, a confidence that made the air shift.
Elira.
Murmurs erupted like a storm.
“A… a girl?”
“Is she out of her mind?”
“She’s got guts though…”
Sammy’s brows lifted. Interest sparked in his dark eyes. He slid his arm off the giggling girl beside him and tossed his cigarette aside.
“You?” His voice dripped amusement and danger. “Sweetheart, do you even know how to grip a wheel? If you crash and die, that’s on you.”
Elira’s tone was like ice.
“Save that warning for yourself. If you die, don’t expect me to mourn you.”
The crowd exploded in laughter and gasps. Phones shot up to record. This was going viral tonight.
Sammy tilted his head, sizing her up like prey.
“Do you even have a car?”
Elira’s gaze slid to the edge of the lot. A cab sat parked there, its driver craning his neck to watch the chaos.
“Yes,” she said calmly.
The whispers surged.
“What… is she talking about?”
“She doesn’t—oh no. Don’t tell me…”
Elira walked straight to the cab, tapped on the window, and spoke coolly.
“Mister, I’ll rent your car. One race. Three thousand dollars.”
The driver blinked, half-laughing. “Miss, don’t—”
Ding!
His phone chimed. You’ve received $3,000.
His eyes bulged. “It’s yours! Take it!”
The crowd roared as Elira slid into the driver’s seat of the dusty blue cab.
“She’s insane!”
“Racing that against Sammy’s beast?!”
“This is suicide!”
Sammy stared, his smirk twitching into something darker.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me. That pile of junk? Against me?”
Elira’s fingers curled around the steering wheel. Her voice was steady. Deadly.
“Are we comparing cars… or skills?”
The cab driver shoved his way forward, panic in his voice.
“Miss, listen—$150,000 isn’t money you play with. That car can’t even sniff their exhaust! If you blow the engine—”
Elira cut him off without looking up.
“Racing isn’t about the car. It’s about the driver.”
The next second—she twisted the wheel.
The cab spun into a perfect drift, tires screaming, dust flying as it slid into position among the neon monsters like it belonged there.
The crowd went silent. Then—chaos.
“Holy—did you see that drift?!”
“No way. That was… flawless!”
Sammy’s smirk froze. His jaw tightened.
Elira leaned out of the window, her eyes locking on his like a predator eyeing prey.
“What’s wrong? Scared?”
A razor-edged smile curved her lips.
“If I lose, I’ll pay you $150,000.”
The mountain air turned electric.
Sammy ground his cigarette into the dirt and swung into his silver beast, his grin returning slow and lethal.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured through the open window, “hope you’re ready to die.”
Engines thundered like war drums. Tires smoked.
And then—
The night… exploded.