Ethan barely had time to process the strange encounter before he heard rushed footsteps from inside the club.
Zack came barreling through the entrance, his suit unbuttoned, the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone, and sweat glistening on his forehead like he had just sprinted across the place.
"Wait — !" Zack called after the woman, but neither he nor Ethan were fast enough.
Both men stood there, watching as the woman climbed into a sleek, matte-black Lamborghini Huracán, the engine roaring to life before she sped off, tires screeching against the pavement.
The car disappeared into the evening traffic in a blink, leaving only the scent of burning rubber and expensive perfume in its wake.
Ethan crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at Zack. "What the hell did you do to her?"
Zack let out a frustrated groan, running a hand through his already messy hair. "Nothing — well, not nothing. It's complicated."
Ethan scoffed. "That's what guilty people say."
Zack shot him a glare before sighing, shaking his head as he wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "Look, man, let's just go inside. I need a drink before I explain."
Ethan glanced once more at where the Lamborghini had disappeared before shrugging. "Alright. But this better be good."
As they stepped inside the club, the bass from the music thrummed through the air, the dim lighting flashing with hues of red and blue.
It wasn't fully packed yet — it was still early — but the VIP lounge already had a few wealthy patrons enjoying their afternoon.
Zack led Ethan toward a private booth, signaling one of the waitresses to bring them drinks. As soon as they sat down, Ethan leaned back against the plush leather seating, giving his friend a knowing look.
"Alright," Ethan said, resting his forearms on the table. "Talk."
Zack groaned again, rubbing his temples. "That woman? Her name is Vanessa Carter. And she's —ugh, she's trouble, man."
Ethan tilted his head, intrigued. "Trouble as in?"
Zack exhaled sharply. "Trouble as in, she's a professional street racer. A damn good one too. She's got connections, sponsors, and the kind of reputation that makes even the most arrogant guys in the racing scene shut up and listen. She's competitive as hell, hates losing, and she's got a temper to match."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "And you pissed her off because…?"
Zack hesitated. "Because I bet against her in a race last week. A race I thought she'd lose."
Ethan stared at him. Then he laughed. "You bet against a champion street racer? Zack, are you actually stupid?"
Zack groaned, slumping forward. "I didn't think she'd actually win! The guy she was racing was supposed to be a beast on the track — his car was modified to hell, top-tier engineering. I thought it was a sure bet."
Ethan smirked. "And what happened?"
Zack ran a hand down his face. "She wiped the floor with him. Smoked him in less than a minute. It wasn't even close."
Ethan let out a low whistle. "Damn."
Zack nodded. "Yeah, damn is right. And guess who had to pay up after running his mouth?"
Ethan laughed again. "Let me guess — you?"
Zack exhaled dramatically. "Bingo. And let's just say, she didn't appreciate the lack of faith I had in her skills."
Ethan shook his head. "So, what? She came here to rub it in your face?"
"More like to collect what she was owed."
Ethan lifted an eyebrow. "How much did you lose?"
Zack looked away. "…A lot."
Ethan groaned. "Zack."
"Okay, okay," Zack held up his hands. "It wasn't just money. I kinda… may have promised a favor."
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "What kind of favor?"
Zack sighed heavily, taking a sip of his drink. "I don't know yet. She said she'd cash it in when the time was right."
Ethan leaned back, thoughtful. "So basically, you just signed yourself up for whatever she wants. That could be anything, Zack."
"Yeah, I'm aware!" Zack rubbed his face again, exasperated. "I was hoping she'd just take the money and let it go, but nope — Vanessa Carter isn't the type to forget a slight."
Ethan chuckled. "Well, sounds like you're in for an interesting ride."
Zack groaned again. "Don't remind me."
Ethan downed the last of his drink, letting the burn of the alcohol settle in his throat before exhaling slowly.
Across from him, Zack was already swirling the remnants of his own drink with a self-satisfied grin on his face, clearly enjoying the fact that Ethan had just bailed him out once again.
With a resigned sigh, Ethan pulled out his phone, the cool weight of the device familiar in his grip.
He tapped a few times, navigating to his banking app, and after a few more confirmations, he transferred a hefty $4 million directly to Zack's account.
The moment the transaction went through, Zack's phone buzzed loudly on the table, and his already wide grin stretched even further.
"My man," Zack said, snatching his phone up and flashing the screen toward Ethan as if he needed proof the money had really arrived. "Damn, just like that. You didn't even hesitate!"
Ethan rolled his eyes. "Because I already agreed to this, Zack. And besides, I already covered the equipment costs earlier. Consider this me settling the rest of the deal."
"Still, four million just like that?" Zack let out an exaggerated whistle. "That's crazy, man. And you barely even blinked. You ever get tired of being rich?"
Ethan smirked. "Not when it gets me what I want."
Zack laughed, finally tucking his phone away. "You really are something else."
Just as Ethan was about to check on the System phone, feeling it vibrate in his pocket, Zack abruptly changed the subject, his eyes lighting up with a different kind of excitement.
"Alright, hold up, let's talk about something way more important," Zack leaned in, his voice dropping conspiratorially. "Dude, did you see her? I mean, seriously, did you see Vanessa?"
Ethan sighed. "Zack — "
"No, no, hear me out," Zack grinned, clearly not letting this go. "Bro, that woman? Absolute smoke show. That plump ass, that perfectly toned body, those legs in that tight racer suit? Come on, man, you can't tell me you weren't looking!"