Ethan ended the call, tucking the phone into his pocket before swinging his leg over his motorcycle.

    The sleek black bike hummed beneath him as he turned the key, the powerful engine roaring to life.

    With a firm grip on the handlebars, he revved the engine once, then pulled out onto the main road.

    The city was alive with movement — cars whizzing past, pedestrians crossing the streets, neon lights still flickering even in the daylight.

    The cool wind rushed past him as he accelerated, weaving through traffic with ease.

    He had always preferred riding his bike over driving a car — there was something liberating about it, a sense of control and speed that cars just couldn''t match.

    Within minutes, he reached the building site, slowing to a stop before smoothly parking his bike near the entrance.

    As he pulled off his helmet, he took a deep breath, letting his sharp gaze scan the apartment building in front of him.

    The structure stood tall, a testament to his calculated investments. It wasn''t the flashiest building in the city, but it was modern, efficient, and strategically placed in a fast-developing district.

    A few minutes later, a luxury sedan pulled up, and a man stepped out.

    Mid-forties, dressed in a tailored suit, with the air of someone used to closing high-stakes deals — Harold Lane.

    Ethan walked over, extending a hand. "Mr. Lane, good to meet you in person."

    Harold''s handshake was firm. "Likewise. I''ve heard a lot about you. Let''s see if this one lives up to the reputation."

    Ethan gave a confident nod. "Follow me."

    He led Harold through the lobby first. The high ceilings, marble floors, and ambient lighting gave off a luxurious feel without being excessive.

    "Designed to appeal to both professionals and small families," Ethan explained. "Security systems installed at every entrance, 24/7 surveillance, and controlled access for residents."

    Harold nodded, taking mental notes as they moved to the elevators.

    Ethan pressed the button for one of the upper floors, leaning slightly against the panel as the doors closed.

    Business was business. And Ethan was damn good at it.

    And now he had secured 5 million dollars from this deal alone.

    #####

    His bank account was full, the deal was finalized, and now all that was left was to meet Zack and push forward with their joint investment.

    He twisted the throttle of his bike, feeling the smooth hum of the engine beneath him as he weaved through the city streets.

    The neon lights reflected off the sleek black finish of his motorcycle as he rode through downtown, eventually pulling up to Zack''s club — a high-end establishment that doubled as their base of operations.

    The place was lively even in the late afternoon, the valet already busy handling expensive cars rolling up one after another.

    Ethan didn''t need valet service, though. He parked his bike himself, pulling off his helmet and ruffling his dark hair as he made his way inside.

    Just as he reached for the door, a woman stormed past him, her shoes clicking sharply against the pavement.

    Ethan barely had time to register her presence before she brushed against him, causing a small object to slip from her grasp.

    "Whoa — " Ethan instinctively leaned down, catching the item before it hit the ground. It was a key fob, sleek and expensive-looking.

    He straightened up, glancing at the woman as she paused, clearly debating whether to turn back for it.

    Her posture was rigid, her breath uneven, and her racer''s uniform — a black and red jumpsuit fitted perfectly to her lean frame — hinted at exactly the kind of woman she was.

    She wasn''t just someone playing dress-up; she was a real racer, someone who belonged on a track rather than in a club like this.

    Ethan extended the key fob toward her. "You dropped this."

    She snatched it from his hand, her gaze flickering to his for the briefest moment. "Thanks," she muttered, her voice tight with restrained frustration.

    Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and briskly left the club, disappearing down the steps toward the parking lot.

    "Rude," Ethan muttered under his breath.