The taxi sped off the moment my feet touched the pavement.
The night air hummed with the growl of motorcycle engines, their headlights pinning me in a blinding crossfire.
I squinted, shielding my eyes as the bikes circled like wolves, their riders jeering, swinging pipes and machetes inches from my face.
*Kristin was right.*
She knew Garten Chen better than I did.
Knew his money wasn’t won—it was *taken*.
In her eyes, I was just a pawn.
If I crossed the river, I had value.
If not? Disposable.
The irony wasn’t lost on me.
I’d come to collect a bounty, not become prey to some trust-fund thug.
Red Hair rolled his neck with a sickening *crack*, grinning.
"Still feel tough, huh? Go on—hit me again. I *dare* you."
He slapped his cheek, taunting.
I said nothing.
My eyes swept the perimeter, counting bikes, and calculating angles.
No escape.
And the $600,000 in my hand? A dead weight.
"Cat got your tongue?" Red Hair snarled.