Chapter 13: Arising Problems 1

The deafening roar of engines filled the night, a symphony of power and speed. Wind howled past Mari’s car, the sound of tires screeching against asphalt blending with the pulse-pounding rush of the race.

She was inches away from overtaking the white Porsche, its steady pace proving to be more of a wall than a challenge. But she had studied its movements, calculated its rhythm. Nova was right, the guy played it safe.

The upcoming right turn would be his downfall.

Mari gritted her teeth, adjusted her grip on the wheel, and dove into the inside line. The Porsche hesitated for a fraction of a second just enough for her turn.

Her tires gripped the asphalt as she shot past, engine growling as she took the lead. A sharp smirk pulled at her lips.

First place in the lead.

But before she could even breathe, two shadows streaked past her on either side, blurs of crimson and matte black.

“What the?!”

Mari’s eyes snapped to her left as Adrian’s Koenigsegg Jesko, sleek and merciless as it tore through the track with raw, unfiltered speed. And on her right, the Mustang from the Mad Hounds, its engine snarling like a beast hungry for chaos.

Her heart pounded. They caught up.

But she didn’t panic. They were faster, but she was smarter.

Mari refocused, quickly adjusting to the new battle. The course ahead twisted and turned like a snake, a brutal test of control.

Left turn.

Mari braked just enough to keep traction, smoothly gliding through while the Mustang nearly fishtailed behind her.

Sharp right.

The Jesko surged ahead, its superior acceleration letting it recover faster than the rest.

Mari clenched her jaw. She had to be precise.

A downhill stretch led into the final curve. This was it. The last challenge before the ultimate showdown.

The Jesko pushed forward, taking the outer lane, the Mustang aggressively tailing it. Mari kept to the middle, calculating her timing.

The final stretch loomed ahead, a 500-meter straight track, no turns, no tricks, just raw speed.

Mari had clawed her way to the front, but she wasn’t alone.

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On one side, the crimson-red Koenigsegg Jesko, a monster of a machine built to dominate straights.

On the other, the black Mustang, aggressive and reckless, swerving just enough to throw others off their rhythm.

Mari gritted her teeth. If she wanted this win, she had to be ruthless.

She knew their car had better raw acceleration. The Mustang was unpredictable. She needed to turn their strengths against them.

The Mustang driver clearly drunk on adrenaline was taunting her, jerking his car slightly toward hers, trying to intimidate her.

A knowing smirk tugged at her lips. “Perfect.”

Mari acted like she was backing off, easing up just slightly on the accelerator, letting the Mustang think he had scared her.

The moment the Mustang driver committed to a swerve, Mari struck.

She darted forward, clipping the Mustang’s rear bumper with just enough force.

Not enough to cause a full spin-out, but enough to throw him off balance.

The Mustang swayed violently straight into Adrian’s Koenigsegg.

A hard scrape of metal. Just half a second of delay.

But that half-second was all Mari needed.

She stomped the gas. Her car roared ahead.

Behind her, the Mad Hound driver was struggling to recover, cursing as he tried to stabilize. Adrian was forced to slow down just slightly to avoid losing control himself.

And Mari?

Mari was already gone.

She flew past the finish line, engine screaming, headlights flashing, victory secured.

Race Over.

The crowd exploded with shouts and cheers after some disbelief.

But up in the VIP lounge…

Dante Raines was seething in anger.

…..

The VIP rooftop was alive with chaos.

Cheers erupted, glasses clinked, and money exchanged hands at the betting booths. The digital board updated instantly as Mari’s win had upset a lot of high rollers.

Near the railing, Nova, Joel, and the rest of their crew broke into laughter and cheers.

Joel slammed his hands against the metal bar, grinning ear to ear. “That’s my girl! Did you see that? That was filthy!”

Luca let out a low whistle. “I thought she was done for when those two caught up.”

Trev smirked. “She played ‘em.”

Nova, still leaning against the railing, exhaled in amusement, eyes locked on the aftermath. His gaze flickered toward the Mustang and Koenigsegg as they rolled past the finish line, clearly not in the best shape.

That was gonna piss someone off.

Joel elbowed him. “You called it, man! We should’ve bet more!”

Nova placed a hand on his chest. “It’s not about the money. It’s about passion, dedication, and the pursuit of…”

Joel groaned with a deadpan stare.

Nova snickered, his grin stretching wider. “Yeah, no. It’s the money.”

But their laughter was cut off instantly at the sharp sound of shattering glass.

The entire energy in the VIP section shifted.

Nova turned his head just in time to see Dante Raines shove a table aside, the drink dripping from his knuckles. His expression was pure murder.

The rooftop, once loud with celebration, fell into tense silence.

Dante’s chest rose and fell with heavy, heated breaths. His jaw clenched so tight it looked like it could crack. Every muscle in his body screamed barely restrained violence.

He turned, locking eyes onto Nova.

And then he started walking straight for him.

His steps were heavy, deliberate, carrying the weight of frustration, humiliation, and pure, unfiltered rage.

The Mad Hounds followed, their presence looming like a storm cloud.

Joel shifted uneasily. “Uh… we got a problem.”

Nova didn’t move, didn’t break eye contact. He just exhaled slowly.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I can see that.”

And just like that, Dante was right in front of him.

The air between them was thick, electric, dangerous.

Dante’s voice came low, barely restrained. “Tell me something, Mr. Nova.”

His fingers twitched, like he was itching to swing.

“Was that your idea?” His tone was ice, but his eyes burned. “Did you tell her to do that?”