She sat alone in a wide, gloomy room, one wall had a large mirror. She couldn't see through it, but the feeling of being watched from the other side pressed heavily on her. Her head lowered while her intertwined hands rested on the metallic table. The feeling of unseen eyes made her clench her hands tighter. 'Why the hell am I even here?' Her short brown hair was tied in a messy bun, and a black jumpsuit hugged her slender frame. She recalled that before ending up here, last night, she had been in a casino, winning round after round, her stacks of chips growing by the minute—until the fire broke out in the building. "Damnit," she spat as she remembered that moment. It wasn't every day she experienced such luck. 'Only if I had left sooner.' She remembered the chaos and people panicking. She could still hear the shouts for help and fire alarms as bodies pushed and stumbled toward the exits. She had been among them, barely escaping the flames that threatened to devour everything

Her mind was restless, but no matter how hard she thought, none of the questions had an answer. Her heart almost leaped from her chest when the sound of the door opening filled the room. When she looked at the door, there was a girl with golden-brown skin and curly hair tied in a bun. She was wearing a uniform that identified her as a nurse. Lijun quietly sighed with relief. "You've woken up. How do you feel?" the nurse asked with concern and relief. She seemed like a foreigner, but her speech was fluent. Lijun nodded. "I am fine. When will I be discharged?" The nurse raised her eyes in surprise. She had just woken up after surgery, and even now, her body had multiple wounds. Yet, the first thing she asked after waking up was about her discharge. "After the doctor approves it." After checking on her, the nurse carried her tray and left the room. When she stepped outside, she gasped, startled by the unexpected presence of someone just outside the door. A teenage girl in a school

The vast field was packed with more than twenty motorbikes lined up in perfect rows, their engines purring in anticipation. Lian stood among the crowd, blending in yet separate. The thrill of the race had always been his escape from the chaos of life. After everything that had happened, this was the only place he could think of to distract himself. These street races were always illegal, which made the nightfall the perfect time to gather. Lian had been a regular for years, always borrowing a bike from his friend Rogan. As one of the best racers, his reputation preceded him, and while most of the others had partners clinging to them, Lian always preferred to ride solo. The solitude helped him focus. Besides, Celine’s brother had originally brought him into the gang because of his skills with bikes. As he checked the bike’s gears, a soft yet confident voice caught him off guard. "Mind if I ride with you?" He turned, ready to brush her off like he did with most girls who tried t

The rider, clad in a sleek black jumpsuit and reflective helmet, moved with the assured grace of someone who knew she was in control. Even without seeing her face, Lian could sense it—it was a woman. One look at the customized bike and the way she dressed, he had a good guess who it might be. He smiled faintly, though wariness lingered behind his eyes. The woman reached out, handing him a spare helmet without a word. A flicker of recognition sparked within him, and without hesitation, he grabbed it, slipping it on before hopping behind her. She revved the engine, and the bike shot forward, leaving Jake and his men scrambling to their car, cursing as they tried in vain to catch up. Within seconds, the city blurred around them as she wove through traffic effortlessly, the wind whipping past them. By the time they reached the outskirts, Jake and his crew were nothing more than a memory. The bike skidded to a stop outside a quiet restaurant, and Lian dismounted, still reeling from

Her eyes fluttered briefly before snapping open, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She scanned the unfamiliar room, her gaze locking onto the IV tube attached to her hand. She was in a hospital gown. The last thing she remembered was being in that hotel room—a trap, she realized now, expertly set. Her brow furrowed. Whoever was behind it hadn’t wanted to kill her right away. They wanted her alive for something worse. But who was it? The thought gnawed at her, an uneasy feeling tightening in her chest. She wasn’t afraid of him but the uncertainty unsettled her. She had to leave. Now. She tried to move but a sharp pain shot through her stomach, forcing a grimace. Pulling the gown aside, she saw the bandage. Of course, she thought. But if she fell into that man’s hands, this wound would be the least of her concerns. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself out of bed. She pulled the IV as she sat up, blood dripping to the floor. She ignored it, staggering toward the window, one hand