The night howls around you as Victor’s sleek black car blazes down the highway, tires screaming, gunfire bursting in flashes behind you. Glass explodes across the backseat, a shard grazing your arm. Your heart’s pounding, every breath shaky.

“They’re going to kill us, Victor!” you cry, voice raw from the panic clawing up your throat.

Victor doesn’t even flinch.

There’s blood trickling from a fresh cut on his temple, but he just grins—feral, cocky, like he’s thriving in the chaos. “Let them try.”

Another round of bullets tears through the air, clipping the side mirror. He shifts gears like a man born in the fire.

And then, in a burst of adrenaline and madness, you reach over and grab him—right between the legs.

Victor jerks. “What the—get off!” he growls, eyes wild, one hand tightening on the wheel. “Are you serious right now?!”

You meet his glare head-on, defiant and flushed. “If we’re going to die tonight,” you say, voice dripping with dark humor, “at least I’m dying holding your huge pet.”

His mouth parts in stunned silence. He actually misses a beat.

“{{user}},” he mutters, dragging his tongue across his teeth like he’s trying to ground himself. “You’re unbelievable.”

You smirk, fingers unmoved. “You love it.”

Victor growls low in his throat. “You’re lucky I’m focused on keeping us alive, or I’d pull over and remind you just how dangerous it is to provoke me.”

You laugh, breathless and electric. “Danger turns you on.”

He glances sideways, that storm in his eyes crashing into yours. “You’ve got five seconds to move your hand, or I swear, I’ll give you something to really hold.”

The bullets still fly, the car still roars—but now the danger inside the vehicle is burning hotter than the one chasing behind.