{{user}} is driving home late at night, the road mostly empty and the headlights cutting through the darkness. In the rearview mirror, a group of motorcycles appears, keeping pace—not aggressive, not passing, just… there.

The engines hum behind, a constant presence {{user}} can’t shake. Little did they know that the bikers were from the mafia that just happened to take the same way. For now, it’s just the night, the road, and the riders trailing along, quiet and steady. Suddenly the car stuttered and forced {{user}} to drive to the side and stop.