Chapter 183 Smoke Beneath the Asphalt
Chapter 183 Smoke Beneath the Asphalt
The warning remained etched in Zara’s mind long after the screen went dark.
THE NEXT ACCIDENT WON’T MISS.
Someone had not only discovered Ronan’s investigation—they had reached into the Dominion’s most secure network without leaving a trace.
That meant one thing.
The traitor wasn’t hiding at the edges of the organization.
They were standing at its center.
The rain had stopped by midmorning, leaving the Dominion compound slick with reflections.
Mechanics hurried between garages preparing motorcycles for the opening stage of the Circuit Trials.
Engines roared.
Hydraulic lifts hissed.
Fuel fumes filled the air.
To everyone else, it looked like another ordinary race week.
Only Zara and Ronan knew a war had already begun.
Samuel joined them beside the main garage.
“I checked every security terminal.”
“Anything?”
He shook his head.
“The system logs were wiped.”
Kim walked over carrying a tablet.
“So were the backup servers.”
Ronan wasn’t surprised.
“They planned this.”
“Long before today.”
A loud horn echoed across the compound.
Every rider, mechanic, and team captain turned toward the central courtyard.
One by one, members of the Black Dominion gathered beneath the steel observation platform.
More than a hundred people stood waiting.
Some wore racing leathers.
Others carried weapons beneath long coats.
Veteran captains stood beside rookie riders.
Everyone watched as the Executive Council emerged.
Five senior members took their seats.
Then…
A sixth man appeared.
Older than the others.
His silver hair was neatly combed.
His posture remained perfectly straight despite his age.
The courtyard fell completely silent.
Ronan’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
Zara noticed.
“You know him.”
“I do.”
“Who is he?”
Ronan answered without taking his eyes off the platform.
“Marcus Voss.”
“My mentor.”
Marcus stepped to the front of the platform.
He smiled warmly, almost like a proud father addressing his family.
“My friends…”
His voice carried easily across the courtyard.
“The Circuit Trials have always determined more than victory.”
“They determine who earns trust.”
The crowd applauded.
Zara watched carefully.
Nothing about the man resembled the monster she had imagined.
He looked calm.
Measured.
Respectable.
Exactly the sort of man people followed without question.
Marcus continued.
“Our enemies believe they can weaken us.”
“They believe loyalty can be bought.”
He paused.
“But the Dominion has survived because betrayal is always uncovered.”
For the briefest moment…
His gaze met Ronan’s.
The smile never left his face.
Yet the message was unmistakable.
I know.
The meeting ended with scattered applause.
As people dispersed toward their assigned garages, Marcus descended from the platform.
Instead of walking toward the council chambers…
He came directly toward Ronan.
Every conversation nearby seemed to stop.
Marcus extended his hand.
“Ronan.”
“It has been too long.”
Ronan accepted the handshake.
“Busy week.”
Marcus chuckled.
“The busiest.”
Only then did he look toward Zara.
“So.”
“This is the mechanic everyone has been talking about.”
His eyes studied her calmly.
“No fear.”
No hostility.
Just quiet observation.
Marcus offered his hand.
“Zara.”
“I’ve heard impressive things.”
She hesitated for only a heartbeat before shaking it.
His grip was gentle.
Steady.
Yet something about it unsettled her.
He smiled.
“Your brother spoke about you often.”
The words landed like a punch.
Zara’s expression didn’t change.
But inside…
Everything froze.
“You knew my brother?”
Marcus nodded slowly.
“He was one of the finest riders I ever met.”
Then, without another word, he released her hand.
“I hope you race as well as he did.”
He walked away.
Leaving silence behind him.
Samuel was the first to speak.
“He knew your brother.”
Kim looked toward Marcus disappearing into the executive tower.
“And he waited until today to mention it.”
Ronan’s eyes remained fixed on the tower.
“That wasn’t a conversation.”
“It was a warning.”
Later that afternoon, Zara stood alone inside the maintenance garage.
She replayed every word.
Your brother spoke about you often.
If Marcus had known him…
Then why had no one ever mentioned it?
Why had every report erased that connection?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps.
Ronan entered quietly.
Without speaking, he placed a weathered leather notebook onto the workbench.
“What’s this?”
“My personal journal.”
She looked up in surprise.
“You keep a journal?”
“For investigations.”
He folded his arms.
“I wrote down everything I couldn’t store digitally.”
She opened it carefully.
Every page contained dates.
Names.
Route changes.
Payments.
Meetings.
Observations.
Years of careful documentation.
The evidence wasn’t gone after all.
It had simply never existed in one place.
“You planned for this.”
“I planned to fail.”
She looked at him.
“I knew that if someone discovered the files…”
“…they’d destroy them.”
“So I became the backup.”
For the first time that day…
Zara smiled.
A small one.
But genuine.
“You really have been preparing to tear this place apart.”
“No.”
Ronan looked toward the window overlooking the race circuit.
“I’ve been preparing to save the people trapped inside it.”
Outside, engines thundered to life as riders began their final practice session before the opening Circuit Trial.
High above the track, Marcus watched from the control tower.
He saw Zara standing beside Ronan.
A faint smile crossed his face.
“They’re finally trusting each other.”
One of his assistants frowned.
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
Marcus calmly adjusted his cufflinks.
“No.”
“It makes what’s coming…”
“…far more painful.”
Far below, the starting lights flashed green.
The Circuit Trials were less than twenty-four hours away.
And for the first time in years, every player had unknowingly taken their position on the board.
The practice session lasted well into the evening.
From the observation deck, Zara watched motorcycles tear through the rain-darkened circuit at breathtaking speed. Every rider pushed harder than necessary, as if trying to intimidate the competition before the Trials had even begun.
Ronan stepped beside her, his gaze fixed on the track.
“They’re not racing to win today,” he said quietly.
“They’re sending a message.”
Zara folded her arms. “To me?”
“To everyone. The Circuit Trials aren’t just about speed anymore. They’re about survival.”
At that moment, one rider entered a sharp corner too aggressively. His rear tire suddenly lost traction, sending the bike into a violent slide. Metal scraped against asphalt as sparks erupted across the track.
The rider tumbled into the safety barriers.
Silence swept over the paddock.
Zara’s instincts told her something was wrong.
She narrowed her eyes toward the damaged motorcycle.
The brake line had been cleanly severed.
This wasn’t a crash.
It was sabotage.
Someone had just made the first move.