Peter was in surgery, fighting for his life. The doctors worked tirelessly to treat his wounds—a deep stab to the stomach, severe cuts, and internal bleeding.
Outside the operating room, Optimus, Odlan, Aitnys, and Celya waited anxiously. The air was thick with tension.
Optimus paced back and forth, clenching his fists. "Damn it... He should've let us help more."
Odlan leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "He's stubborn. But he'll pull through. He has to."
Aitnys remained silent, staring at the glowing red "IN SURGERY" sign.
Celya wiped her eyes, trying to stay strong. "He survived worse, right? He always comes back."
Suddenly, footsteps echoed down the hall.
They turned to see Enimsya rushing toward them.
Her face was pale, eyes filled with worry.
"Where is he?! Is he okay?!" she demanded, looking at them one by one.
Celya swallowed hard. "He's still in surgery..."
Enimsya gripped her chest, struggling to breathe. "I... I need to see him when he wakes up."
Optimus narrowed his eyes. "Why are you here, Enimsya? After everything?"
Enimsya snapped back. "Because I still care about him! I never stopped!"
Odlan sighed. "We all care. But right now, we need to wait."
The room fell silent again.
Time moved painfully slow.
Every second felt like an eternity.
Then, after what felt like forever
The surgery light switched off.
The doctor stepped out.
Everyone stood up at once.
Celya grabbed the doctor's arm. "How is he?"
The doctor pulled off his mask and sighed.
"Peter survived. But he's in critical condition."
After ensuring that Peter was safe, Aitnys decided to check on Zunafets, who was also being treated at the hospital.
Walking down the hallway, her mind was still filled with concern. Zunafets had been badly injured during the last battle, and she needed to make sure he was okay.
When she reached the hospital room, she knocked lightly before stepping inside.
Inside, Zunafets was sitting on the bed, his arm and abdomen wrapped in bandages. Despite his injuries, his sharp gaze remained unchanged—always alert.
Zunafets glanced at Aitnys and gave a faint smirk. "I thought you'd be too busy watching over Peter."
Aitnys sighed and stepped closer. "I had to make sure my stubborn older brother was still alive too."
Zunafets let out a small laugh, then winced in pain. "Damn... don't make me laugh."
Aitnys sat down beside his bed. "You're lucky you can still joke around."
Zunafets rested his head against the pillow. "I'm not the worst off. Peter's in much worse shape."
Aitnys nodded. "He's still in critical condition. But he made it."
Hearing that, Zunafets let out a relieved sigh. "Good… If he died, I would never forgive myself."
There was a brief silence.
Then, Aitnys spoke in a softer voice.
"Do you think this is over?"
Zunafets stared at the ceiling. "No. FTO may have lost its leader, but they won't disappear so easily. And I'm sure there are still people loyal to the former president."
Aitnys nodded slowly. "Then what's our next move?"
Zunafets looked at her seriously. "We prepare. Because I know... this isn't truly over yet."
Meanwhile, Odlan, Optimus, Celya, and Enimsya entered the room.
Peter was still lying critically on the hospital bed, his breathing weak, the sound of medical machines beeping steadily. Enimsya stepped closer, her eyes glassy as she stared at Peter's pale face.
Odlan and Optimus exchanged glances, silently reading each other's expressions. They understood how complicated the situation was. Celya simply watched in silence before turning away and sitting outside the room. Feeling the heaviness in the air, Odlan and Optimus decided to leave as well, giving Enimsya some space with Peter.
Not long after, Enimsya stepped out of the room, looking unsettled. Her phone vibrated, and as she glanced at the screen, she quickly answered. A deep, firm voice spoke from the other end—it was her father.
"The divorce papers are not valid," he said bluntly.
Enimsya froze, her breath hitching.
"You are still Eduardo's wife," he continued.
Her heart pounded. She wanted to protest, but the words caught in her throat.
Without responding, Enimsya hurried out of the hospital, flagging down a taxi. She climbed in and gave the driver an address, her mind spinning with confusion as the car sped away, carrying her into the storm of uncertainty.
One week later, Odlan was lying down, casually snacking, while Optimus was eating instant noodles. The room was quiet—until suddenly, Optimus froze, his chopsticks stopping midair.
"Peter… he's awake!" Optimus exclaimed.
Odlan immediately sat up, excitement flashing in his eyes. A wide grin spread across his face as he nudged Optimus.
"This means we're all getting back together again," he said mischievously. "Illegal street racing, here we come!"
Optimus chuckled, shaking his head, but before they could continue their banter, the door creaked open. A man walked in, his presence calm yet commanding. He approached Peter's bed, his eyes filled with concern.
Odlan and Optimus exchanged glances before standing up cautiously.
"Who are you?" Odlan asked, his tone slightly suspicious.
Optimus crossed his arms, waiting for an answer.
The man smiled slightly before replying, "My name is Davenci. I'm here to see Peter."
The Next Day Peter arrived at his mother's house, walking in with a casual stride, though his mind was restless. Inside, he immediately spotted Eduardo—his stepbrother—sitting in the living room with Enimsya. Enimsya glanced at him briefly, her gaze unreadable, but Peter remained calm.
With a smirk, Peter looked at Eduardo. "So, you're still holding on to this marriage after cheating on Enimsya?"
The air grew tense instantly. Eduardo's expression darkened, while Enimsya lowered her gaze, avoiding eye contact.
Their grandmother, who had been silently observing, finally spoke up. "Peter, this is none of your business. Stay out of it."
Peter chuckled lightly, unfazed. He glanced at Enimsya before casually saying, "Honestly, I think Enimsya should find a better, more successful man than Eduardo."
Silence filled the room. No one argued, but the tension was thick. Without saying anything more, Peter continued eating, acting as if nothing had happened.
Later that evening, Peter sat outside in the garden, lighting a cigarette and taking a slow drag. The cool night air surrounded him, bringing a sense of calm.
Soft footsteps approached. He looked up to see Enimsya standing in front of him.
"Peter… forgive me."
Without hesitation, she reached out her hand, returning the ring he had once given her.
Peter glanced at the ring for a moment before offering a faint smile.
Enimsya swallowed hard before whispering, "I will do whatever it takes to divorce Eduardo."
Peter exhaled smoke and looked at her with an unreadable expression. "But if you do leave him, make sure you find a man who's rich, stable, and doesn't go looking for trouble. Not like me."
He chuckled. "Find someone good—the kind your father always wanted for you."
Without waiting for a response, Peter stood up and walked away, leaving Enimsya lost in thought.
That night, Peter, Optimus, Odlan, and Davenci gathered at the underground racing arena. The air was filled with the roar of engines and the scent of gasoline, fueling their adrenaline.
Davenci seemed uneasy. This wasn't his usual scene—especially considering he was still a fugitive and an ex-convict.
"Are you sure I should be here?" he muttered, scanning the area cautiously.
Peter smirked, patting his shoulder. "Brother, if you're a fugitive, why aren't the cops after you?"
Davenci frowned, unsure what to say.
Peter chuckled, taking a drag from his cigarette before replying, "Relax. I already asked my brother, Zunafets, to handle everything. So don't worry."
Davenci sighed, still skeptical, but if Peter said it was handled… maybe it really was.
The sound of revving engines echoed around them. The race was about to begin. Peter grinned. It was going to be a long night.
Out of nowhere, the sound of a roaring engine cut through the night. A sleek sports car drifted smoothly into the racing arena, its headlights flashing as it came to a stop.
Celya stepped out, her confidence radiating as she flipped her hair back. She glanced at Peter, Odlan, and Optimus before walking over, her boots clicking against the pavement.
Before anyone could speak, a loud notification rang from Peter's laptop, sitting open on the hood of a nearby car. The screen flashed with a breaking news report—the scandal involving the Minister and FTO was still unfolding.
Peter narrowed his eyes, scoffing. "These bastards never stop, huh?" He clenched his jaw, watching the screen as new details emerged.
He turned, scanning the area, and spotted Davenci—who was completely distracted. Two women were clinging onto him, giggling and running their hands over his arms. "You're so strong… and so mature~" one of them purred.
Peter rolled his eyes and called out, "Davenci! Quit flirting, we have a situation."
Davenci looked up, slightly annoyed but also intrigued. He gently pulled away from the women and walked over. "What is it?"
Peter pointed at the screen. "It's not over. The Minister, FTO—everything's still in play."
Davenci exhaled sharply, rubbing his chin. "So it continues…"
Peter smirked, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Looks like we're not done yet."
Peter shut his laptop with a swift motion. There was no point in dwelling on the news now—he had something more important to focus on.
He turned and walked toward his car. Tonight, he was racing against Wellber, one of the fiercest racers in the arena.
Celya leaned against her car, watching Peter closely. "Are you sure you can win?" she asked.
Peter smirked, lighting another cigarette. "Since when have I ever doubted myself?"
Across the arena, Wellber was already waiting. He stood confidently next to his car—a sleek black muscle car that looked built for destruction. He glanced at Peter with a cocky grin.
"Ready to lose?" Wellber taunted.
Peter chuckled, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "I hope you've written your will."
The crowd roared with excitement. Optimus and Odlan stood at the edge of the track, watching with eager anticipation.
Davenci, still wary about being a fugitive, shot Peter a look and nodded. "Stay sharp."
Peter slid into the driver's seat, gripping the wheel tightly. The engine roared as he pressed down on the gas, ready for the race that could change everything.
Then, the countdown began.
3… 2… 1…
GO!
As soon as the signal turned green, Peter and Wellber's cars shot forward like bullets. The roar of engines echoed through the night, tires screeching as they tore down the track.
Peter's focus was razor-sharp, his hands steady on the wheel. Wellber's muscle car had raw power, but Peter knew the streets—he knew how to maneuver, when to push, and when to hold back.
The track was filled with sharp turns and sudden drops. Wellber tried to overtake Peter early, swerving aggressively, but Peter anticipated the move, skillfully drifting around a tight corner.
"Not that easy, asshole," Peter muttered under his breath, smirking.
The crowd went wild as the two cars raced neck and neck, neither giving an inch.
From the sidelines, Optimus clenched his fists. "Come on, Peter, don't let that bastard win!"
Odlan grinned. "Relax, Peter always has something up his sleeve."
Meanwhile, Davenci was watching with narrowed eyes. Even though he was still getting used to this underground racing world, he could tell that this race wasn't just about speed—it was about control, about strategy.
Halfway through the race, Wellber attempted a dangerous move—he slammed his car against Peter's, trying to push him off course.
Peter's car wobbled for a second, the tires barely holding onto the road. The crowd gasped.
But Peter didn't panic. With precise control, he counter-steered, regaining his position. He glanced at Wellber through the side mirror and smirked.
"Big mistake."
Peter suddenly shifted gears, hitting the accelerator at the perfect moment. His car shot forward, leaving Wellber trailing behind.
The finish line was just ahead. Wellber desperately tried to catch up, but it was too late.
Peter crossed the line first.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Peter smirked as he parked, stepping out of his car with a cigarette between his lips. Wellber slammed his hands on his dashboard in frustration before getting out.
"Damn it!" Wellber growled. "You got lucky!"
Peter chuckled, exhaling smoke. "Luck? Nah. Just skill."
Optimus and Odlan ran over, hyping him up. "Hell yeah! That was insane!"
Celya smirked from a distance, arms crossed. "Not bad, Peter."
Davenci walked over, shaking his head with an amused smirk. "You really don't do things the easy way, huh?"
Peter simply grinned. "Where's the fun in that?"
But before they could celebrate further, Peter's phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen—an unknown number.
His smile faded slightly. Something told him this night wasn't over yet.
Peter stared at his phone screen for a moment before answering.
"Who is this?" he asked casually.
The voice on the other end was calm but carried a sense of urgency. "I want to negotiate. If you can hack something for me, I'll pay you a significant amount."
Peter smirked slightly. "How much are we talking?"
The number mentioned made his eyebrows raise slightly. It wasn't a small offer.
After a brief pause, Peter finally replied, "Alright, I'll think about it. I'll call you back later." Then he ended the call.
Taking a deep breath, he turned to his friends. "Guys, I'm heading home first."
Odlan glanced at him. "Why? You just won the race."
Peter gave a small, knowing smile. "Got something to take care of." Then he added, "Odlan, leave Davenci here for now. Take him home later."
Odlan nodded. "No problem, bro."
Just as Peter was about to leave, Celya suddenly stepped in front of him, stopping him.
"What about Enimsya?" she asked seriously.
Peter paused for a moment. There was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, but he didn't respond and continued walking.
However, Celya reached out and grabbed his arm again, this time more firmly. Their eyes locked.
"I still have feelings for you, Peter."
Peter stood still.
"I can't lie about this. I want us to get back together," Celya admitted, her voice full of sincerity.
Peter gazed at her in silence. There was something in his eyes—not rejection, but not the answer Celya was hoping for either.
Finally, Peter gave a small smile. He lifted his hand and gently patted Celya's shoulder.
Without saying a word, he walked past her, leaving her standing there, watching as he disappeared into the night.
Celya stood frozen, her eyes following Peter as he walked away. A lump formed in her throat, and for the first time in a long time, she felt truly vulnerable.
She clenched her fists, forcing herself to stay strong, but deep inside, disappointment and sadness swirled together. "Why do you always walk away, Peter?" she whispered to herself.
In a dimly lit room filled with screens and surveillance equipment, three figures sat watching the news.
Zunafets, a sharp-eyed man with an aura of authority, leaned forward with his arms crossed. Beside him, Eldric, a strategist with a calculating gaze, studied the data carefully. Across from them, Aitnys, a woman known for her skills in infiltration, scrolled through classified reports on a tablet.
The screen displayed a breaking news update:
"The FTO organization is still active. Authorities struggle to contain the growing threat as new developments surface."
Zunafets exhaled sharply. "They just don't stop, do they?"
Eldric adjusted his glasses. "We took out key figures, but the network is still operational. Someone else must be pulling the strings."
Aitnys smirked slightly. "The question is—who? And what's their next move?"
Zunafets turned his gaze toward the monitors. His fingers tapped against the table as he thought.
"It's time we find out."