WARNING:
This story features a romantic relationship between two men (MxM). If you are not comfortable with same-sex relationships or if you do not support LGBTQ+ content, please consider choosing a different book on the app. IMPORTANT NOTICE: This story is rated 18+. The content includes explicit descriptions, intense emotions, nudity, and descriptions of sexual scenes. If these themes are not suitable for you, or if you prefer not to read such material, it’s best to avoid this story. While comments are welcome, any form of hate speech or discriminatory remarks will not be tolerated. Please engage respectfully. If you are not familiar with or comfortable reading MxM stories, I advise you to skip this one. Love comes in many forms, and this story aims to celebrate that diversity. Before we begin, let me say it again, "leave this book and choose another story if you can't handle this kind of content." I am not responsible for any weird feelings, imaginations, wetness, or arousal... Thank you for your understanding! PROLOGUE: The boss stands with his back turned to me, a cloud of cigarette smoke rising into the air. His silence only makes the tension worse. I take a deep breath, struggling to keep my voice steady. “I’m sorry, boss, but I’m in no shape to get on the Night Race—Route 419,” I say firmly. I want him to understand how serious I am. He doesn’t even turn around. “What choice do you have, you jerk? Should I lose my money because you have a few injuries?” he snaps back. “A few injuries?” I can’t believe it. I have a broken rib from a bad fall last week, and I’m nowhere near healed. And he wants me on the track? In a night race on the most dangerous route in the city? He’s lost his damn mind. “You know my mother needs me… I can’t throw my life away like that,” I start, but he cuts me off. “Then do it for her,” he says coldly. “If you win, I’ll write off your father’s debt. All of it.” I freeze. It’s a tempting offer, almost too good to be true. My mind races. The risk is insane—I can barely bend without feeling pain, and he’s asking me to ride at night, through sharp turns and blind spots. But then again, I’ve got a $10 billion debt to clear. My father’s debt. And for the past seven years, I wasn’t even able to dent it properly from where I used to get my finances. “This is your chance,” the boss adds further, his tone becoming a little lower towards the end as if to imply that there would be no next time. "To this race, you were selected and it is tonight. Go get ready.” And just like that, he exits the door and I am still there, rooted to the ground. There’s no turning back. This means I simply cannot afford not to race if I hope to have any chance of clearing that debt and covering my mother’s medical expenses. I glance at my watch. It’s already 5 p.m. The last thing on my mind before a race is to relax and ease my mind. I get on my motorbike and put on the helmet. I tend to forget all my troubles with the wind blowing so hard. I pull up to a bar across the road from the Steel Riders’ clubhouse. I just need a drink to calm my nerves. When I walk in, I spot them immediately—the Steel Riders. A group of them sits in the back, talking quietly. They notice me too. “Hey, that’s Blaze. He’s racing tonight,” one of them whispers. I ignore the stares and look around for an empty table. I can’t afford to get into it with them right now. They’re always trying to mess with me, trying to push my buttons. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him—Carlo. His murderous gaze is fixed on me. He hates me, just like I hate him. I hate him for having everything I ever wanted in life and throwing it away like it means nothing. If my father had half the money Carlo’s father has, I wouldn’t be stuck in this hell. But here I am, racing against him again tonight. I down a shot, letting the burn of the alcohol dull my thoughts. “Hey, come sit over there with us. Let’s buy you a bottle before the race,” one of his friends calls out. He’s surprisingly polite for once, and I can’t help but wonder what they’re up to. Maybe I’m out of my mind, but I don’t turn him down. It’s just one bottle, right? I could use it to clear my head before the chaos begins, so I follow him. I sit on a chair and for some reason, there is a strange stillness for a few moments as the conversation continues all around me. Carlo’s eyes must be on me because I can sense them, but I do my best to ignore it. If only he knew how much I despise him. His arrogance, his wealth—everything he has, I’ve had to fight and bleed for. His friends laugh and joke, offering drinks and small talk. I don’t know why I’m doing this. I shouldn’t be here. Drinking with my enemies? I must be out of my damn mind. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Desperation makes you do crazy things. If I’m going to be racing on Route 419 tonight—risking everything, including my life—I might as well have a drink or two. I’ve already made up my mind. There’s no turning back now. The boss’s offer rings in my ears. If I win tonight, my father’s debt is gone. I’ll be free, and my mother can get the treatment she needs without me scraping by for every penny. But I know what’s waiting for me out there. Route 419 isn’t called the Night Race for nothing. It’s a death trap—pitch black, winding, with no room for error. One slip, one wrong turn, and it’s all over.Hey everyone,I hope you're all doing well. I wanted to take a moment to share something personal.I just lost someone very close to me—a young family member whose passing has left me completely shaken. It's the kind of pain that's hard to put into words, and honestly, I'm still trying to process it all.Writing and creating have always been a source of joy and escape for me, but right now, my heart just isn't in the right place. I need a little time to grieve, to be with my family, and to find my footing again.Because of this, I won’t be posting or updating any of my stories for a while. I truly appreciate your patience and understanding. Your support means more to me than you know.I plan to return to writing and updates in the first week of June. We are getting close to the end of this story. There are only a few chapters left before everything comes together. The final pieces are in place, and I was already working on wrapping up the last arcs when this loss hit me. So please kno
Carlo"Just listen to me, please..."My mother's voice is breaking, almost a whisper, like the weight of it is too much to carry. She's sitting at the edge of the couch like it hurts to be still, like she might fall apart if I so much as look at her the wrong way. Her fingers twist over each other, and she can’t meet my eyes.I lean against the wall, arms crossed, jaw tight. I can already feel my throat closing up with irritation, exhaustion, fucking helplessness."I already told you. I'm not doing it. I'm not playing pretend. I'm not throwing Blaze away just because Dad can’t deal with the idea of me being with a fucking man."Her head snaps up. “Then what? You’re going to ruin everything? All the years you put into the company? You're going to give him what he wants? Just hand everything to William on a gold platter?”I scoff, dragging a hand down my face. “You think I care about the company more than I care about Blaze? Jesus, Mom.”“I think you should care about surviving,” she b
Carlo“Sir, the Chairman is here” “He’s here?” I ask, already knowing the answer from the look on my assistant’s face.“Yes, Sir. He walked in fifteen minutes ago. Went straight into the boardroom. Security didn’t stop him.”Of course they didn’t. No one in this building has the balls to stop my father. Not even the ones I pay. I don’t say another word, just start walking. I take the elevator alone. My chest is tight, not with panic—yet—but with something worse. A slow burn, a bitter taste rising in my throat. Something’s coming. I feel it crawling up my spine.When the elevator doors open, I know I’m right.Half the boardroom is already empty. Chairs gone. People missing. My name’s still on the glass door, but everything else—everything—feels foreign. I push the door open and see him at the head of the table. My seat. My space. He doesn’t look up.Two of my senior execs stand behind him like goddamn furniture. One looks at me, pale, uncomfortable. The other won’t even meet my eyes.
Carlo"Long time no see, baby."I don’t even look up. I don’t need to. That voice—smug, syrupy, and fucking rehearsed—cuts through the air like perfume choking out oxygen. I finish signing the document in front of me, take my goddamn time, then finally lift my head.There she is. Rebecca. Dressed like she walked off a magazine cover and into my nightmare.“Didn’t even call me once all these years,” she adds, like I’m the villain in some story she’s been playing in her head.I lean back in my chair and toss the pen on the desk like I’m already bored. “We broke up. What the fuck was I supposed to call you for? Catch up on how many men you’ve screwed since?”Her smile twitches. Fake. Like everything else about her. She crosses her arms and steps closer, not breaking eye contact. She’s always been like that—pushing buttons for sport.“Mm. That’s cold. Especially from a man who suddenly agreed to marry me. What changed, Carlo?”I shrug. “My father wants it. That’s all. Don’t read into it.
BlazeIt’s been two damn days. Two days of silence. Two days of losing my mind in that white-walled hellhole, wondering if Carlo was gonna find me, Turns out, the men dropped me off at the fucking hospital entrance this morning like I was some package they forgot to return. No words. No explanation. Just dumped me at the emergency entrance with a smug “you’ll be fine” and drove off.I didn’t ask questions.I didn’t care.They had put my phone back into my pocket, I just picked up the phone and called him.“Hey, I’m at the hospital entrance, Come get me,” I said.“Blaze!” I heard him scream my name, then the sound of his keys, a slammed door, then the line cut.When he showed up thirty minutes later, he didn’t even park properly. He left the engine running, stormed into the hospital like a goddamn storm, eyes darting like he was ready to kill someone.The second he saw me—bruised, drained, and still in the same fucking clothes—I swear something inside him broke.“Get in the car first,
Carlo“Pick the fucking call, Blaze…” I mumble, pressing my phone to my ear again. It rings out. Again.And again.And again.Nothing.I sit there in the car, parked by the curb like a fucking idiot, with my hand tightening around the steering wheel so hard my knuckles start to pop. My jaw is locked. My chest? Pounding. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I know something’s not right.It’s 7pm. I was supposed to pick him after practice hours ago. And he texted earlier—*“I’m racing with Alexi and the boys.”*But I just spoke to Alexi.And guess what she said?“He never showed up.”What the fuck?I slam my hand against the wheel. “Fuck!”I don’t even know where to start. My mind is not just spinning—it’s crashing into walls. I try his number again, because maybe it’s just me being paranoid. Maybe he lost his phone or was probably too busy to remember he asked me to pick him up. But even Blaze would’ve at least texted by now, even if it’s just to tell me to not come.But nothing.
Blaze“That guy’s still behind me, isn’t he?” I mutter under my breath, not bothering to look back again.I caught sight of him earlier when I walked into the hospital, hanging near the goddamn vending machine. Black suit, shades indoors, that weird stiff posture… too fucking clean to blend in. I ignored it at first. People wear suits. Whatever. But then he popped up again near the elevator while I was headed to my mom’s floor. And again at the pharmacy downstairs.Now I’m outside, walking past the old kiosk near the bike lot, helmet in hand, and I can feel it. That itch under my skin. That uncomfortable heaviness in the air that tells me someone’s watching. Someone is following me.I grip the helmet tighter, jaw clenched, eyes forward. I don’t make scenes. That’s not my style. But I’m ready to break someone’s fucking teeth if I have to.I pass the curve, heading toward where I parked my motorcycle. My mind flashes back to mom. She looked tired as hell today. Thinner. She didn’t say m
Carlo“You told him, didn’t you?”I slam the office door shut behind me, my knuckles already clenched so tight my nails are cutting into my palm. William looks up from his desk, calmly flipping a page in whatever bullshit file he’s pretending to care about. I don’t even wait for him to answer.My fist lands hard across his face.He stumbles back in the chair, almost falling off. A pen clatters to the ground. There’s a beat of stunned silence, then he slowly lifts his head, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. He looks at the blood like it’s something fascinating. Like it’s not the fucking least he deserves.“So, that’s how we’re doing this now?” he mutters, finally meeting my eyes. His smirk is irritating. Too calm. Too smug. “Gonna beat me into confessing something I didn’t even do?”“Cut the crap,” I snap. “Don’t act like I don’t fucking know.”He laughs under his breath. That stupid, low laugh that makes my skin crawl. Like he’s the smartest man in the room. Li
Carlo“What the fuck does he want now?”I mutter under my breath, eyeing my buzzing phone like it’s some kind of ticking bomb. My father’s name flashes on the screen. He never calls me just to say hi. If he’s calling, it’s either to bark orders or stir shit. The empire’s been quiet lately, which only means he’s bored and looking for something to fuck with.I roll my neck to the side, trying to ease the stiffness. The weight of documents and board decisions has been piling up for weeks. Normally I push most of it to my secretaries, but today’s work was something I couldn’t hand off. Still, I’m not about to let this phone call ruin my day.I answer the call and wedge the phone between my ear and shoulder while I pack up the last of the files into my briefcase. The clock says 4 PM. Blaze’s training wraps up in an hour, and I promised I’d pick him up. He likes that shit—me showing up for him. I like it too.“Come home now.”That’s all he says. Cold, clipped. No room for questions. The cal