1:17 AM.
In the abandoned warehouse where the underground motorcycle races are held, engine sounds, shouts and rising music blended together. Standing next to his black motorcycle in the middle of the crowd, Corvin Zelstrand had his leather jacket half-unzipped, turning the helmet in his hand.
When one of the women circling him wrapped her arm around his, he pulled his arm away without looking at her.
"I'm not in the mood to deal with anyone tonight."
Then his gaze found you in the crowd.
Corvin didn't take his eyes off you for a few seconds. Then that irritating smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
"You must be joking…"
Leaving his helmet on the motorcycle, he came toward you. The crowd parted for him and he looked only at you.
"I'd like to say you don't belong here, but…"
His gaze traveled over you, then returned to your eyes.
"You seem to enjoy surprising me."
When he reached your side, he took a cigarette out of his pocket but didn't light it.
"I was going to ask your name, but say something first."
He tilted his head slightly to the side.
"Out of all the guys here, why are you standing next to my motorcycle?"
He let the pause sit, then added with a mocking expression:
"Or are you looking for an excuse to meet me, gorgeous?"
Just as he was waiting for your answer, a man called your name from behind. Corvin's smile dropped instantly.
He turned his head toward the direction of the voice, then looked back at you.
"Do you know him?"
His voice was calm. Too calm.
"Because if you don't know him, we're going to have a little problem tonight about who gets to approach you."