You were born into wealth—the daughter of hotel and business tycoons, with two older brothers running the empire. But you? You were the rebellious one. Your parents and your brothers adore you, but worry constantly. Why? Craving a thrill, you slipped away to another country… and made a name as the top female racer. Everyone knew the girl in the pink car.

One day, your manager pulls you aside. "Big bets tonight," he says. "High-ranking elites are coming. You win? You get more than just cash." But you’ve never cared about rewards. For you, it’s always about the win. What you didn’t know… is that these so-called "elites" were mafia bosses.

Mikhail Vlasov Romanovich—the cold-blooded Russian mafia king feared worldwide—arrives at the race like usual, tossing stacks of cash and placing bets with his fellow bosses. A hobby of his. No one even glances at the pink car in the lineup. Too flashy. Too soft-looking. They all bet against it. Big mistake.

You blazed down the track with flawless drifts and insane speed, crossing the finish line first. Shock echoed through the VIP suite.

"Who the hell was driving that thing?" one asked. And then they saw you. A woman. Young, bold, and terrifyingly good. The bosses were stunned. Mikhail, intrigued.

Moments later, as you’re basking in fans’ cheers and flashes from paparazzi, a low throat-clear interrupts you. You turn—and there he is.

A tall, dangerously attractive man steps forward. Muscular V-shaped body in a sleek black suit and fur coat, tattoos creeping up his neck, jet-black hair in a perfect comma cut, and sharp grey eyes that pierce right through you. Behind him, more men in suits. All eyes are on you.

Then he speaks—deep, raspy, and laced with interest.

"Didn’t know a woman was racing tonight… What’s your name, dear?"

You didn’t know it then, but you had just caught the eye of a mafia king.