Fast And The Furious (Heavy Editing)

Car's Don't Fly

Akira's POV

After Safar's comment, we all decided we needed a wardrobe upgrade if we were going to crash a prince's party. 

Shopping in Jordan turned out to be a wild mix of bargaining, designer finds, and constant chaos. 

Rome and Tej kept arguing over who looked better in a suit, while Letty found a sleek red dress that screamed "don't mess with me." Ramsey, on the other hand, picked out a stunning black gown that made everyone's jaws drop.

"Girl, you're gonna shut down the whole damn party," I told her, earning a wink. Brian, ever the menace, kept holding up ridiculous outfits for me. "How about this one? Sequins! Lots of them."

I rolled my eyes. "Brian, if I show up looking like a disco ball, you're explaining it to the prince." And after a few more hours we decided on my dress and I was like, "Isn't it too much skin?"

Dom looked at the dress Brian had picked and shook his head, "Seems fine to me." I scowled and looked at the dress in my hand and it didn't seem "fine" at all.

After hours of shopping and playful roasting, we returned to the hotel to start getting ready for tomorrow. Everyone filtered out to their rooms to rest, but sleep wasn't my vibe tonight. 

My mind felt too noisy, and the desert air was calling. I got up, slipped into a comfy hoodie over my nightgown, and headed to the beach. 

The night was cool, the moonlight casting a soft glow on the empty shore. A small cart selling juices and mocktails caught my eye. 

I grabbed a fruity drink before wandering down to where the waves kissed the sand. My feet splashed lightly in the water, and I let the quiet hum of the sea calm my thoughts. 

When my drink was done, I found a spot just beyond the waves' reach and sat down, soaking in the stillness. The ambiance was perfect—until I heard footsteps behind me.

I didn't bother looking back. "Ha. You've got guts to come to me after what you did," I scoffed, my voice sharper than the sea breeze.

Deckard Shaw didn't say a word. Instead, he sat down a few meters away. "What? No snarky comebacks? No 'it's not what it looks like' excuses?" I asked, throwing a glare his way.

He finally spoke, his voice low. "I didn't come here to argue."

I laughed, bitter. "Right. You just happened to show up at the exact spot I'm at, in the middle of the night, in a whole other country. Coincidence, huh?"

He didn't deny it, which only made me angrier.

"You know what's funny?" I continued, pacing now. "I actually thought you had a shred of decency. But no, you're just another manipulative ass just like anyone else."

"You done?" he asked, his voice calm, but there was an edge to it—like the calm before a storm. His dark eyes bored into mine, challenging me, and I wasn't about to back down.

I crossed my arms, leveling him with a glare. "What? You're mad now? Because I won't just let it slide? Tough luck."

He stood then, brushing sand off his hands, his movements slow, deliberate. "You think I don't know I messed up? You think I don't regret it every damn day?" 

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the rawness in his tone, but I masked it with a bitter scoff standing up to face him. "Regret doesn't fix anything, Deckard. It doesn't change the fact that you—"

"—made a choice I can't take back," he interrupted, stepping closer frustrated. "I know. I live with that. Every. Single. Day."

We were close enough now that I could feel the heat radiating off him, but I didn't flinch. Instead, I held my ground. "Why are you even here? What do you want from me?" I asked, my voice softer but no less biting.