Samantha's world cracked open as she stood in the shadows, watching Maxwell Carter meet with a man who radiated secrets. The way Maxwell handed over that file—cold, calculated—told her everything she needed to know. Whatever he was hiding, it was big. And it had everything to do with why he suddenly wanted to control her life. But Samantha Castillo wasn't the kind of woman to sit back and be played. If Maxwell had a secret, then she needed a weapon of her own. Something powerful.
Samantha's mind raced as she made her way to the hidden alleyway, the sounds of revving engines echoing off the graffiti-covered walls. The adrenaline from the race still pulsed in her veins, but now, all she could think about was what Maxwell had shown her earlier—those pictures of her and Razor five years ago. The image of the young woman, carefree and full of life, alongside the man who'd nearly ruined everything she had now. The man she never wanted to face again.
Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel as she pulled up to the familiar spot, the neon lights of the street racers' hangout flickering in the distance. Razor would be here soon. He'd already made it clear he was watching her, and after everything that had happened in the past few days, she knew this meeting would be different.
The sound of footsteps echoed behind her, and before she could turn around, a voice she had been dreading pierced through the night air.
"Did you think you could just walk away from all of this, Samantha?"
She didn't need to see him to know who it was. Razor. The same man who had been both her savior and her nightmare. The one who had dragged her into a world she couldn't escape. She stood still, the weight of his words sinking in. Her past had caught up with her.
"I don't have time for games, Razor," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "What do you want?"
Razor stepped into view, his cold, calculating gaze locking onto hers. He was taller than she remembered, his presence commanding, even in the dim light. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket, and there was a sinister smirk on his face.
"You know exactly what I want," he replied, his tone low and dangerous. "I want you back. I want you in my world again, where you belong."
Samantha's heart thudded in her chest, her fists clenching at her sides. "I don't belong in your world, Razor. I'm not the same person anymore."
He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "You think you can just walk away from this life? From everything we built together? You're still the same person, Samantha. The only difference is, you're pretending to be something you're not."
Her jaw tightened. "I'm not pretending. I've moved on. I'm living my own life now."
Razor's smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. "You can try to fool everyone around you, but you can't fool me. I know who you really are. And you know damn well that you're not safe out here, not with Maxwell Carter on your side."
Her breath caught in her throat at the mention of Maxwell. "What does he have to do with this?"
Razor's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "He's using you, Samantha. Just like everyone else. You're a pawn in his game, and when he's done with you, he'll toss you aside, just like all the others."
Samantha's heart raced as Razor's words sank in. She didn't want to believe it. She couldn't believe it. Maxwell had shown her kindness, had stood by her side through everything. But Razor's words echoed in her mind. What if he was right? What if Maxwell only wanted her for his own agenda?
"No," she said, shaking her head, trying to push the doubt away. "Maxwell's not like you. He's not using me."
Razor's laugh was bitter, filled with years of resentment. "You're so naive, Samantha. I've seen men like him before. They'll tell you whatever you want to hear, promise you the world, and then when you least expect it, they'll betray you. You're just another piece in his game."
Samantha didn't know what to say. Razor's words stung, but deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that there might be some truth to them. Maxwell had secrets, and she had barely scratched the surface of who he really was. She had to be careful, especially now that Razor was involved again.
She took a step back, trying to regain her composure. "I'm not going back to you, Razor. I'm not going back to that life."
Razor's eyes darkened, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "You don't have a choice, Samantha. You never did."
Before she could react, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to check the message. He cursed under his breath, clearly frustrated. "This isn't over, Samantha. You'll be back in my world, whether you like it or not."
With that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows, leaving Samantha standing alone in the cold night. Her heart hammered in her chest, and a chill ran down her spine. She didn't know what Razor wanted, but she knew he was right about one thing—her past was never truly gone. It was always waiting for her, lurking in the background, ready to pull her back into the darkness.
As she made her way back to her car, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, expecting a message from one of her friends, but instead, it was a notification from Maxwell.
Maxwell Carter:We need to talk. Come to the penthouse.
Her stomach twisted at the message. She didn't know what to expect, but she knew that the conversation that awaited her would change everything.
Samantha took one last look at the street, the sound of the engines still echoing in her mind. Razor was right—her past was always going to haunt her. But now, Maxwell was involved too. Could she trust him? Or was she walking right into another trap?
She climbed into her car and drove off toward the penthouse, the weight of the unknown pressing down on her chest.