Blood on the Asphalt biker
Behind me, I heard the dull thud of the garage door finally giving way, followed by a chorus of shouts and the staccato rhythm of automatic fire.
I pushed the bike harder, the speedometer climbing. Every turn was a gamble, a blind corner that could end in a stone wall. My mind was a whirlwind of images my father’s hands on a wrench, the heat of Dax’s kiss, the cold eyes of Victor Kane. I realized then that my 300,000-word journey wasn't just about survival. It was about evolution. I was no longer just Mia Chen, the girl who hid her face. I was the keeper of a legacy that could change everything.