Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40297 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40297 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Kane leaned forward slightly, his forearms braced against the desk. “So we’ll expand Redline Holdings west. Tracks, teams, and operations. But alongside that…we establish a Redline Kings chapter in California.”
“Holy shit,” I muttered under my breath.
Edge grinned slowly. “Yeah. That was basically my reaction too.”
My brain immediately shifted into logistics, territory maps, alliances, and rivalries—then one glaring problem slammed into the front of my mind.
“It’s Black Crowns’ territory,” Kane murmured, somehow reading my mind.
I nodded. “Yeah. Most of Southern California.”
Edge tilted his head thoughtfully. “They’re military-based, right? Mostly black ops guys and ex-special operations?”
“Mostly,” I confirmed. “I served with a few of them before I got out and joined the Kings. We’ve kept in touch.”
“You know their president, right?” Kane asked.
“Yeah. We served on the same team. I can give him a call.”
Edge leaned back in his chair, thoughtful now instead of amused. “You think they’d allow us to claim territory near theirs? Maybe even some overlap?”
I considered it seriously for a second before nodding. “Yeah. I actually think they’d be fine with it.”
Kane’s brows lifted slightly.
“The Black Crowns don’t give a shit about racing,” I explained. “That’s not their world. And they know exactly who the Redline Kings are. They’d understand pretty quickly we’re not showing up looking for war. We’d be allies, not competition. Probably beneficial for both clubs.”
Kane exchanged a brief look with Edge before turning back to me. “Then contact their president. Feel it out.”
The reality of the conversation settled heavier into my chest now. California. Cecily. A new track, team, and fucking chapter—a whole damn expansion. It probably should have felt daunting or even impossible. Instead, it felt right.
Edge smirked again, apparently reading some of that realization off my face. “Look at that. Ten minutes ago you were preparing to break up with your brothers. Now you’re accidentally becoming a club president.”
I snorted. “Accidentally.”
“Best kind of promotion,” Edge replied lazily.
Kane’s mouth twitched slightly before his attention shifted back toward business. “We’ll talk more after this race situation gets handled. One thing at a time.”
I nodded and pushed myself out of the chair. “I’m heading back to my office. Cecily is at a day-long camp today, so I want to keep digging into the funding. I have a feeling I’m close.”
Kane gave me a short nod. “Keep me updated.”
Hours later, I was still buried behind spreadsheets, shell corporations, betting patterns, offshore transfers, and enough layered bullshit to choke a federal auditor. My office had gone fully dark outside the windows, lit only by the glow of monitors and the dim desk lamp throwing shadows across stacks of paperwork.
But finally, the money lined up. I sat back slowly in my chair, eyes narrowing at the screen while irritation curled sharply through my chest. “Well. There you are, motherfuckers.”
The money trail led straight to the top of a corporate-backed racing syndicate. Legitimate money hiding behind legitimate businesses while quietly funding illegal underground races designed to siphon drivers, bettors, and eventually territory away from Kane’s empire.
They were trying to dismantle Redline Holdings from underneath. I grabbed my phone and called Kane immediately.
He answered on the second ring. “Found something?”
“Found out where the buck stops,” I informed him, staring at the screen grimly. “A corporate syndicate is funding the ghost races. Deep pockets and structured operations. They’re trying to break your monopoly and take control of the underground scene.”
“Perfect timing,” Kane murmured. “Racer just got invited to the next pop-up race.”
Anticipation thrummed in my veins. “When?”
“Few days.”
I leaned back slowly, already feeling the shape of what came next settling into place.
Kane’s voice was hard as steel. “It’s time to take action.”
16
CECILY
My lungs were burning as I hauled myself out of the pool after the last run of the day. Water streamed down my body while I tried to catch my breath. My local coach stood at the edge with her clipboard, but she was smiling.
“Hayes.” She waited for me to meet her gaze before she continued, “That was the best I’ve seen you look in months. Clean lines, strong core, and zero hesitation. Whatever fire’s been lit under you lately, keep it burning.” She pointed at me with her pen. “You’ve got this. Don’t you dare doubt it.”
I managed a tired grin and a nod, even as my chest tightened. If only she knew the fire had a name, Ares Costa. I still had no clue how we were going to handle a long-distance relationship when I slept like crap the one night I’d spent apart from him, and I was a better swimmer with him in my life. Our passion had bled into my artistry, making me perform better than I ever had before.
I was toweling off when my phone started ringing. The number on the screen made my heart stop for a second. It was Coach Reynolds, the woman who had worked with me as part of the Olympic Training Squad in California. She would also be leading our team in the next Olympic cycle.