Motorcity Novels & Stories

Anya’s POV: As soon as I arrived at the M City factory, Michael and Nicholas began reporting the progress of the work to me. “Miss Walter, a few potential sites in Pearl City have already been earmarked for the future factory. The city is very close to V City, and the industrial sector is more developed. The rent is cheaper than in M City. This is basic information about the factory sites. However, I suggest that you take the time to visit them yourself,” Michael said, handing me a stack of documents.

Meanwhile on the other side of the city. Maxwell was now going to meet Driana Garcia in person. He had tried everything and it simply didn't work. His McLaren weaved between slower cars with the kind of effortless precision that came from driving something built for speed. The drive across the city gave Maxwell a bit of time to gather his thoughts. Eventually he pulled the black McLaren into the visitor parking lot of Vertex Systems. The building was as expected a towering skyscraper. Not as tall as Sterling Industries. But it was sleek, modern, with many stories and a glass structure. It looked quiet, efficient, and well-funded. It fit their reputation perfectly.

But Miguel’s eyes had locked onto nothing specific. A sleek black sedan with tinted windows rolled through the academy gates. It moved slowly, like it had every right to be there. The body shone like obsidian, polished and silent. Its plate number. SZ 125. Xander followed the car’s movement. "Whoa. That’s a 2026 Maybach. Custom model. Look at the grille. Miguel, that's your model too” Miguel’s breath hitched. His cigarette dropped. He followed Xander's gaze.

Talk later. He replies instantly: FaceTime at eight? I groan, typing: Yes. This dude and his damn FaceTime. Killing me softly. Thursday, 10:45 a.m. The service car rolled to a stop outside Freight World Corporation’s headquarters on the southwest side of Chicago, tucked near the railway center and shipping docks. Industrial heart of the city. Serious money moved through these streets. “Okay, team,” I said, adjusting my jacket as the car idled. “We got this shit. Let’s kill it.”

A car company from the seventies that serious men in midlife crises enjoy referencing. I scroll through two pages of results and find nothing that connects to organised crime, to or enemies to the Martinez family. I try again. Lotus criminal organisation. That gets me a novel from 2009 and a poorly designed website about a motorcycle club in Arizona that does not look like it has been updated since 2014. I close those. I think about how Roman said it. How the men at the lot said it. They uttered the word with grudging respect. I try: Lotus underworld.

city speed limits, Wilmot swore he would have flown this car like a fighter jet. He absolutely refused to let that scheming bastard Mortimer enjoy a single extra second of smugness in his back seat. Seraphina's rejection didn't exceed Mortimer's expectations. Even though a flash of undeniable disappointment crossed Mortimer's eyes, he surprisingly kept his mouth shut and defaulted to her decision without a fight. The car sped through the city and rolled smoothly to a stop outside Seraphina's rented apartment building. This was a high-end zip code in Los Angeles, which meant the building's security system was incredibly tight.

"We never got to eat, you must be hungry," remarks Caspian as he keys in the code. A metal door smoothly slides open to reveal the biggest garage I've ever seen. There must be more than ten cars in there and several motorcycles. Why would they need that many cars? From practical sedans and SUVs to fancy sports cars. There is a BMW, a Jeep, a Buick, a Ferrari, a Porsche, a Bugatti...just wow! There are a few other exotic cars that I have never seen before and have no slightest idea what the make of them, but my mouth water at the sight of a red 1967 Corvette. That baby is totally lickable!

The fading afternoon sunlight cast a golden glow along the main boulevard of the city's business district that afternoon. The roar of a premium 1000cc sport motorcycle tore through the silence of the streets with its thunderous, ferocious engine. Seated at the front of the luxurious motorcycle, Tristan Vance held the handlebars with his steady hands, while Vivienne sat comfortably behind him that afternoon.

But, who it can be? She needs to find out! Most important question was...why? and was it a friend or a foe! She took that chip out and examined it throughly. It was a tracker! Fuoco had so many questions...but where were the answers? On the other hand, in the Downtown of the Toronto city a black Rolls-Royce car stopped in front of a famous club. It was a limited edition car from the company and was recently launched. Zieve had a unique collection of car's and had many of the limited edition model's in it.

*** Manhattan, New York Alessandra The drive to our next destination was silent, neither one of us conversing with each other or trying to make the moment we were in any less awkward. Only the sounds of the Mclaren P1's impressive engine vented the car within, making me smile inwardly. It was a familiar sound, one that I had grown up around with my older brother's fascination with cars. He would almost always take us on joy rides in his restored, vintage cars as well as his newly acquired sports cars that were courtesy of Papa's credit card.