In a city where adrenaline fuels the night, Nova Laurent gets tangled in the deadly world of illegal street racing. Behind the roaring engines and screeching tires lies a darker game-one where victory can mean life, and defeat, death.
And death is...
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I got home in the late afternoon and decided to shower and officially clean my house. It needed a good clean since it's been a while since I'd done that. I didn't lock the doors because there was no need to.
When I lived with Noa, we never locked our door because our neighborhood was more than safe and it just made going in and out easier for both of us.
My talk with my dad didn't go in the direction I'd anticipated it to go. I expected him to tell me not to leave and so many other things but it went the opposite.
I forget he's a very rational person, he likes his lists and outlines everything—good or bad, he's weighing it out and seeing which one is beneficial for the long run.
I finished up in the shower and got into more comfortable clothing before going downstairs to clean.
I walked down the stairs to see my door open and two black cars outside. The same Audi R8 I'd seen earlier this week and a second one, equally and as dark but this one didn't have such dark windows, at least I could see the inside properly.
Who the fuck was parked in my driveway.
I walked further down the stairs. "Good you're out, we've been waiting for a while," a woman said.
She had long healthy jet black hair. Her facial features were easily identifiable and unmissable. She had high cheekbones and an upturned nose with perfect full lips, outlined with matte red lipstick. Her eyes were hazel but a very bright shade, almost like they were yellow—a similar shade to cat eyes.
I'll admit, that threw me off a little.
Next to her stood Charlie, I'd met him earlier with Jasmine. This time he looked more relaxed, he simply wore a white T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. His hands were once again tucked into his pockets.
"You've got an impressive place I must say," She spoke, a thick British accent peeking through.
"Yeah I agree, the pot plants bring out the place," Charlie spoke.
"Who are you? And how did you get in?" I asked them both.
"Yeah, you've really got to start locking your door," Charlie spoke. "I get you could live in a safe neighborhood but a serial killer could get you, you know." He said. "Lock the door."
"And you two aren't serial killers? I assume it's why you're here." I said sarcastically.
Charlie broke a little chuckle while the woman looked at me, expressionless and completely unamused by my question.
