We were Born to Die

As I sit atop my sleek black bike, the thrum of adrenaline coursing through my veins is almost deafening. The roar of engines surrounds me, the air thick with the cheers of competition. My heart pounds against my ribcage, a wild rhythm echoing the anticipation the swirls within me. I take a deep breath, the cool night air filling my lungs as I try to steady my racing thoughts. This isn't just any race-it's a showdown, a clash of will and power. And I refuse to let the nerves get the best of me.

Glancing around, I lock my eyes with my opponent, Mario. His face masked by determination and the faint glint of rivalry. He is a formidable force in his own right, but he will not deter me from my own goal. With a silent exchange of look, we acknowledge the challenge ahead, a silent pact sealed in the revving of engines. I focus my attention back to the asphalt beneath me, the dark expanse stretching out like a canvas. My hand rest on the clutch, fingers tightening around the familiar drip as I prepare to unleash the raw power beneath me.

With a steady hand, I shift into first gear, the engine growling in response. But still, the bike remains motionless, a silent sentinel waiting for its cue. I grit my teeth, willing the machine to obey, to heed my command and propel me forward into the fray. As I wait, a surge of determination flood through my veins, drowning out the doubts and fears that threaten to consume me. I reach for my helmet, fingers brushing against the cool surface as I lower the visor, shielding my gaze from the outside world.

In that exact moment, everything fades away-the crowd, lights, the weight of expectation pressing down upon me. All that matter is the road ahead, the bliss of victory beckoning me forward like a siren's call. And then, finally, it begins. The signal is given, a gunshot shattering the stillness of the night, and we're off. The engines roar to life, a cacophony as we tear down the asphalt, both of us vying for that elusive taste of triumph.

I lean into the curves, the wind whipping against my skin as I navigate the twists and turns with precision and grace. The rush of adrenaline is intoxicating, fueling my every move as I push to the limit, determined to emerge victorious.

As I rode past Mario, his curses echoed through the air like sharp bullets, but I merely smiled, relishing in the satisfaction of leaving him behind. Leaning into the next corner, I felt the cool rush of the wind against my helmet, a reminder of the freedom and power that came with every twist and turn of the race. As I rounded yet another corner, the roar of the crowd grew louder, their cheers pushing me forward with an adrenaline-fueled momentum. Shifting into fourth gear, I could sense the bike responding eagerly, its engine humming in harmony with determination. With each passing moment, the speed increased, matching the intensity of my heartbeat.

But amid the exhilaration, I couldn't shake the awareness of Mario's presence, a rival determined to challenge my lead. Cursing under my breath, I push the bike harder, urging to go faster, to outrun him and secure my victory. The finish line loomed ahead, a beacon of triumph surrounded by a sea of eager spectators. With one final turn I gritted my teeth and focused all my energy on navigating the difficult corner with precision and speed.

Yet, as I leaned into the curve, I heard the unmistakable sound of Mario's bike drawing dangerously close. Panic surged through me, threatening to consume my resolve, but I refused to let him snatch victory from my grasp. Summoning every ounce of strength and determination, I pushed the bike to its limits, the engine roaring in protest as I surged forward with reckless abandon. The finish line was within reach, tantalizing close, and I refused to let anything stand in my way.

As I crossed the finish line, the cheers of the crowd engulfed me like a tidal wave of triumph. I had won, emerging victorious against all odds, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. Breathless and exhilarated, I basked in the glow of hard-earned victory, the taste of success sweeter than I could ever imagined. As I glanced back at Mario approaching me, his defeated expression only fueled my satisfaction, a testament to the strength and resilience of a woman who refused to be underestimated.

As Mario approached me, I could see the storm brewing through his eyes, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. He had just lost the race, and it was evident that his pride has taken a severe blow. I couldn't help but grin, knowing that my presence was adding salt to his freshly opened wound. But before I could even blink, his hand shot out, grabbing my collar with a fierce grip. Shock coursed through me as his fist connected with my face, the sharp pain of his punch piercing my lip. Blood filled my mouth, the metallic taste causing me to instinctively wipe my face with the back of my hand.

Around us, my guards and friends tensed, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. I glanced up at Mario, defiance burning in my gaze despite the pain throbbing through my lip. Without a second thought, I swung my leg up, aiming for the most vulnerable spot I could find. My foot connected with precision, striking him square in the balls. A pained groan escaped his lips as he doubled over, clutching his injured area. The crowd us stood frozen in shock, the tense palpable in the air.

But the stillness didn't last longer. One of Mario's gang members lunged towards me, fury etched across his face. Instinct took over as I swiftly grabbed his outstretched hand, twisting it behind his back with practiced ease. The satisfying sound of his bone cracking against bone, and his pained cry filled the air as I maintained my grip, keeping him subdued.

Before I knew it, the chaos erupted around us. The once peaceful gathering devolved into a chaotic brawl, with my gang members and Mario's allies clashing violently. Fists flew, and shouts filled the air as the two factions collided in a whirlwind of aggression. Amidst the chaos, I found myself facing off against several of Mario's men. Adrenaline surged through my veins as I fought every ounce of strength I possessed. Blow after blow, I met their attacks head-on, refusing to back down in the face of adversity.

Five of Mario's gang members fell to my relentless assault, each one succumbing to the sheer determination driving me forward. With each opponent defeated, my confidence grew, fueled by the knowledge that I was more capable of holding my own in this brutal world of mafia politics.

As another guy from Mario's gang approached me, I felt the tension crackling through the air like electricity. His eyes bore into mine, and I could sense trouble looming on the horizon. Before I could even react, the shrill wail of police sirens shattered the moment, sending everyone into a frenzy.

Chaos erupted as my guards tried to push through the throng of people to reach me, but instinct took over. Without a second thought I bolted towards my bike, the cool metal beneath my fingertips a comforting presence amidst the chaos. But just as I reached for the handlebars, Mario's hand clamped around my shoulder like a vise. "You'll pay for this, bi-" he started, venom dripping from his words. But I didn't let him finish. With a swift motion, I pivoted and delivered a powerful kick to his abdomen, the impact sending him stumbling back with a pained groan.

As the police closed in on the scene, I scanned the crowd for any sign of my gang members. Panic gnawed at my insides as I searched desperately for familiar faces, but they were nowhere to be found. With a sinking feeling in my chest, I realized they had made the split-second decision to leave me behind, knowing I could handle myself, just as we agreed. With a heavy heart, I pushed the glass of my helmet down over my eyes, shielding my identity from the prying eyes. The roar of my bike's engine drowned out the chaos around me as I revived it to life, the vibrations coursing through my body like a lifeline. In that moment, there was only me, the open road, and the need to escape.

I stole a glance over my shoulder, hoping against hope to see a familiar face in the crowd. But all I saw were strangers, their faces twisted in fear and confusion as the police descended upon them like a pack of wolves. With a heavy sigh, I turned my attention back to the road, determination hardening in my heart.

As I entered the metal doors of our family estate, the familiar creak echoed through the air, accompanied by the soft shuffle of guards adjusting their stances. Their eyes, sharp and vigilant, followed my every move as I parked my motorcycle and carefully hung my helmet on the handlebar. The clang of metal against metal seemed to punctuate the tension that hung in the air. Mr. Winston, our loyal butler, stood waiting for me, a silent sentinel in the guard foyer. His presence always brought sense of calm amidst the chaos of our world. "Your brothers are here, Miss Falconetti." He announced in his usual composed manner, falling into step beside me as I made my way through the parking room towards the main building.

I glanced at him, my brow furrowing in concern. "Do they know," I enquired, already anticipating his answer.

"They do," Mr. Winston confirmed, his tone somber. "And they are not happy."

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips, a mix of amusement and anticipation dancing in my eyes. I knew all too well what awaited me beyond those imposing doors. My brothers Giovanni, Alessandro, and Matteo, were formidable in their own right, and when they were displeased, the consequences were never pleasant. But I was ready for whatever storm awaited me. After all, I had weathered their ire countless times before.

As we entered the grand hall, the servants and maids lined the hallway, their eyes downcast in deference. I acknowledged them with a nod, my steps purposeful as I moved towards the heart of estate. The air heavy with the scent of expensive cigars and aged whiskey, a familiar scent that like a ghost of indulgence past. The casino awaited beyond, a haven for my brothers when they returned home from their business dealings. It was the one place where they could let lose, where the clinking of glasses and the shuffle of cards drowned out the weight of their responsibilities. And tonight, it seemed, would be no exception.

As I pushed open the ornate doors to the casino, the din of activity washed over me like a tidal wave. The low hum of conversation, the rhythmic clicking of chips, it was all so familiar, so comforting in its chaos. And amidst it all, my brothers stood, their expressions a mix of concern and frustration as they spotted me approaching.

Giovanni, the eldest, stood tall and imposing, his dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. Matteo, the youngest and the more impulsive of the three, leaned against the bar with a scowl etched upon his features. They were a formidable duo, each possessing their own strength and weaknesses, but together they were a force to be reckoned with. I met their gaze head-on, my own expression one of calm defiance. Whatever they had planned, whatever grievances they harbored, I was ready to face them head-on. After all, I was a Falconetti, and we never backed down from a challenge, no matter how daunting it may seem.