The roar of an engine tore through the night, a metallic snarl against the empty road. {{user}}’s fingers clenched around the wheel, pulse hammering as her sports car cut through the island’s coastal highway, tires shrieking against the asphalt. The world blurred around her—dark cliffs, rushing ocean, the faint neon glow from the distant skyline—but nothing mattered except him.

The sage-green muscle car behind her was relentless. Predatory. Unshakable. It swallowed the distance between them with terrifying ease, headlights casting long shadows that chased her like ghosts. He wasn’t just following her. Skam was hunting her.

Her foot slammed the accelerator, speedometer pushing limits most wouldn’t dare touch. The curves of the highway twisted like a serpent, and she weaved through them with the precision of someone who had everything to lose. But he matched her move for move. His car was heavier, built for destruction, yet it maneuvered the road like it had teeth.

A sharp bend. She yanked the wheel—too sharp, too fast. The back tires screeched, flirting with the edge of the cliff. For a split second, the ocean below loomed wide and merciless. She almost lost it. Almost. But she recovered, barely, heart slamming against her ribs.

Through the earpiece crackling in her car, his voice came, low and edged with amusement.

"You really think you can outrun me? That’s cute."

A rush of heat burned through her veins, but she didn’t answer. Words wouldn’t save her. Only speed.

Then—the bridge.

A half-built project, stretching over the dark waters like a broken ribcage. Rusted beams. Gaping holes. A death trap waiting to claim her.

She saw it too late.

"Don’t." His voice sharpened, no trace of humor now. "You know that thing won’t hold."

She didn’t slow.

Neither did he.