Ethan pulled the Porsche to a smooth stop in front of Zack’s club, the sleek vehicle gleaming under the afternoon sun.
The faint thrum of music could already be heard from inside, even though it was still early.
A few customers were trickling in — mostly regulars looking for a head start on the night. Zack unbuckled his seatbelt and stretched, letting out a satisfied sigh.
"You know," Zack said, shooting Ethan a sly grin, "I might just drop by your place one of these days. Gotta make sure you’re not turning into some soulless corporate robot with nothing but work and bikes in your life."
Ethan smirked. "What, worried I don’t have a proper wine cellar for you to raid?"
"Not just wine," Zack said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as if he were personally offended.
"Whiskey, vodka, tequila — hell, even a well-stocked bar cart would be nice. What’s the point of a mansion if you don’t have house service and a bartender on standby?"
Ethan chuckled, resting his hands on the steering wheel. "You just want an excuse to lounge around in my place and drink my alcohol."
Zack grinned unapologetically. "Busted."
Ethan shook his head. "You can come check it out, but don’t expect a harem of maids in bunny outfits serving you drinks. It’s just me, my work, and my garage."
Zack let out an exaggerated sigh. "What a waste of prime real estate."
Ethan waved him off. "Go do your thing. I’ll catch you later."
Zack smirked, giving him a playful salute before stepping out and watching the Porsche smoothly pull away.
As soon as his friend disappeared down the street, Zack rolled his shoulders and made his way inside the club.
The atmosphere inside was still relaxed, the deep red lights giving the space a warm, intimate glow.
A few regulars were already sipping on their drinks, chatting quietly while the bartenders prepared for the evening rush.
Zack nodded at a few of them as he walked through, exchanging casual greetings before slipping into his office.
He shut the door behind him and immediately reached for his phone, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He scrolled through his contacts and pressed the call button.
The line barely rang twice before a smooth, amused voice answered.
"Well, well," Vanessa said, the hint of a smirk in her tone. "You must be desperate to be calling me so soon."
Zack leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk. "Desperate? Nah. Just feeling generous. I figured I’d give you a chance to redeem yourself."
Vanessa scoffed. "Redeem myself? Please. If I remember correctly, you were the one eating my dust the last time we raced."
Zack chuckled, tapping his fingers against the desk. "True. But this time, I’ve got a secret weapon."
There was a pause. "Oh? Do tell."
Zack grinned. "Ethan."
A silence stretched between them before Vanessa let out a disbelieving laugh. "Wait, who’s Ethan? you mean that guy? The one I literally bumped into earlier?"
"Yep," Zack confirmed, stretching lazily. "That’s the one."
Vanessa let out a long sigh. "Zack, be serious. What makes you think some random guy can go head-to-head with me?"
"He’s not just some random guy," Zack said, his tone confident. "He’s a bike guy."
Vanessa snorted. "And? Last I checked, I race cars, not motorcycles. Do you think handling a car at 200 mph is the same as leaning into a turn on a bike?"
Zack’s grin widened. "You’d be surprised. If he drives the way he rides, you might actually have some competition for once."
Vanessa was quiet for a moment. Then she sighed. "You really expect me to take this seriously?"
"All I’m saying is, come see for yourself," Zack said, knowing full well she wouldn’t be able to resist the challenge. "You can make all the judgments you want after you watch him in action."
Vanessa clicked her tongue, clearly considering. Then, with an exasperated sigh, she said, "Fine. I’ll bite. Where and when?"
Zack smirked. "Swing by my office. We’ll talk."
She scoffed. "This better not be a waste of my time, Zack."
"It won’t be," Zack assured her smoothly. "Oh, and bring that ego of yours. You might need it when Ethan blows past you."
Vanessa laughed, a sharp, confident sound. "You’re getting ahead of yourself. But fine, I’ll play along. I’ll be there in a bit."
The call ended, and Zack grinned as he tossed his phone onto the desk.
’He should treat me to some beer for this matchmaking,’
#####
The heavy bass of the music pulsed through the club as Vanessa stepped inside, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd.
She was used to places like this — dimly lit, filled with people who thought they were important, all trying to prove something. She had no patience for it.
With an air of confidence, she strode through the mass of bodies, effortlessly maneuvering past drunken dancers and groups of men who eyed her a little too long.
The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.
She wasn’t here to party.
Dressed in a fitted black leather jacket, cropped just above her waist, Vanessa exuded an effortless cool. Underneath, a deep red top clung to her form, complementing her toned physique.
Paired with high-waisted jeans that hugged her hips and sleek black boots that clicked against the floor, she looked every bit the racer she was — untouchable, fearless, and always ready to take the wheel.
As she walked, a few heads turned. Some recognized her, murmuring her name, but she ignored them. She wasn’t here for attention.
She was here for Zack.
The flashing neon lights cast sharp shadows on her face, accentuating the sly smirk tugging at her lips.
Her dark hair was tied up in a high ponytail, a few loose strands framing her face, and her makeup was minimal — just enough to highlight her sharp cheekbones and piercing eyes.
She carried herself like she owned the place, like she was above it all. Because in her mind, she was.
Reaching the VIP section, she spotted Zack lounging on one of the leather couches, a whiskey glass in hand, grinning like he’d just won a bet he hadn’t placed yet.
"Vanessa," Zack greeted smoothly, raising his glass in a half-toast. "Right on time."