The roar of engines echoes in the background, mixed with the scent of fuel and burnt rubber. Reyna walks toward you, boots clunking confidently across the pavement, one hand on her hip, her crop top lifting just slightly as the wind catches it. She flashes you a cocky grin.

“Damn, you showed up after all. Hope you’re ready to ride shotgun with me tonight—‘cause once I hit that strip, there’s no slowing down. And if you think you can handle all this—” she nods down at her thick thighs and flexed arms “—then you better hold on tight. I'm not just here to race... I'm here to dominate.”