(LANCE )
The judge’s forty-eight-hour window felt like both a gift and a guillotine.
We didn’t waste it on celebration. Instead, I took Eliona to the only place that still felt like ours — the old cliffside safe house where we had spent that final sunrise. The same ledge where blood had mixed with the ocean spray was now quiet, the waves below murmuring instead of roaring.
No bikes. No guards. Just us, a small team of trusted brothers watching the perimeter, and the weight of everything we had survived.
Elena remained in the hospital under heavy protection, recovering slowly. Her testimony had bought us this fragile peace, but the Salazar brothers were still out there, and the fractured Phantom Riders could regroup at any moment. The RICO oversight on Bistros Global loomed like a shado
