The night was cold and silent, an after effect of the heavy downpour a few hours earlier. With the streets wet and glistening as the streetlights along the street shone on them. Not a single soul in sight.
Every single light from the houses and apart-ments along has been put out long back, as the occupants surrendered themselves to their pece-ful and lovely sleep.
From the distance, on the right, the angry roar of, a motorbike could be heard speeding closer - dis-turbing the silent beauty of the night. As it got closer, the black attired rider increased his speed after a quick look behind him.
Just as he sped past and the accompanying noise decreasingly died down with his disappea-rance, multiple similar roaring sounds from a dis-tance away; the way he came approached. With - out a doubt disturbing a lot of of peaceful slum - bers.
As the former sped through an intersection ahead, two sets of black attired riders crossed him from his right. Causing him to swerve to his left with his eyes fierce and muscles tense. Be - fore he could get away, a black van blocked him off.
Extremely irritated and helpless, he could only stop abruptly;
" Get out of my way!"
A young masculine voice yelled as the helmet opened to reveal, as much as it could reveal - a young strikingly handsome face with pale blue eyes adorned with long blonde eyelashes.
" Sorry Little Master, " A middle aged stern look- ing six feet tall man said professionally, not soun- ding and looking very apologetic as he got out of the van in black suit. Followed by two other familiar faces in similar suits. " but we're just following orders. "
" Whose?" The former asked, his anger evident as he took off his helmet. Wild blond curls appear - ing as he did, framing his face. His eyes darken-ing, giving him a wildly attractive and dangerous vibe. " My dad's or brother's? "
" Both, Little Master." The latter replied, maintain - ing his professional tone.
" Not interested, now move!" The former seemed even more enraged at his reply, his eyes turning colder with his position back on- ready to ride off.
" I'm sorry Little Master, but we've been ordered to send you home with us." A younger looking man with a long but faint faint scar on the left side of his face replied.
The former rider referred to as 'Little Master' let out a humourless chuckle. Shaking his head, he pointed around him at the men; his eyes darken-ing further.
" So many of you are here, which clearly shows that old man and my dumbass of a brother..." The faces of those present changed briefly at that, but instantly returned their usual icy and compo-used looks. "....knows too well I'm not going, why bother? Tell them to get lost! "
Quickly moving his freshly - bought motorbike through an opening between two unexpecting riders, he surged forward.
" Get him!"
Just when the order was backed he found him - self surrounded again. More enraged now, he swang a fist at an approaching rider, catching him off guard and causing him to fall off his bike. His other fist landed on the face of another atta - cking him from behind.
Now in full- fight mode, he swiftly swang his right leg off his bike to join the other, kicking ano-ther away from him with the action before land - ing on his black sneakered feet.
He didn't hold back, sending punches and fists in all directions; bringing fourth his pent up anger and frustration.
The scene was chaotic and bloody. At the begin-ning, the larger party tried to hold back, with him being the second heir of The Reef Real Estate Corporations, and just a teenager. But realizing his skills and relentlessness, they had to rethink.
A few were uncontrolled due to the embarrass- ment and irritating of being beaten by a teenager, even if he was almost nineteen. They just couldn't accept defeat and felt it necessary to re - deem themselves.
Not long after, they heard the faint sounds of the Police sirens approaching from a distance.Some- one might have reported them!
" Stop!"
A familiar authoritative voice boomed. Cutting through the chaotic atmosphere. Effectively insti-lling absolute silence and discipline. All heads turned to the direction of the voice ;
A latest edition shiny black Benz was parked not too far away from them. The back window had been rolled down and a middle aged greying - haired man was looking out. His displeasure very clear.
From the driver's seat, his slightly older hairless chauffeur rushed out to his side and opened the door for him. With a slight bow of his head, he respectfully held the door open.
The man stepped out in a limited editioned desi- gner pair of shoes with a custom made grey suit. Exuding nobelity, power and wealth.
Looking around with a mixture of emotions at some of his guards looking dishevelled and try - ing to hide their pained expression, a brief look of pride crossed face, but soon disappeared, his brows furrowed and his gaze fell on his son. Who looked so mad and was barely controlling his anger.
Just then two Police cars pulled to a stop beside them. Two corps' getting out of each with stern faces. Before they could officially announce their presence with their well - known instructions, their eyes caught sight of the prominent figure before them.
" Mr. Kane Reef."
A heavy built Corp with average height said with a nod in greeting. Looking a bit surprised, but his tone was respectful. His colleagues, looking even more surprised followed suit.
"Sorry Officers," Kane replied simply with a little nod in response. " family matters. My son got a little out of control. But everything is under con - trol."
"Alright." A tall lean Corp said in understanding, the rest nodding along. Not long after, the cars left. Leaving them alone once more
Turning his now icy eyes back to his son, he spoke, in a low threatening tone ;
" I gave you two choices Michael."
"And I gave you my reply dad, " The teenager replied back fearlessly." I don't want the Business course!"
" What's the big deal in this? You have already gone through the first and second year. Just fini- sh this final year and I won't bother you again." Kane replied, his voice getting calmer as he spoke.
A loud sarcastic laughter filled the air, it was from Micheal. Looking at his father with ridicule in his cold eyes.
" Seriously dad, do you even remember my birth - day?"He asked. " I'm no more a kid. "
Hands in his pockets, Kane kept silent, his pos - ture and expression calm with a storm brewing just beneath.
" Your school's Principal contacted me." Kane said, his displeasure dripping from his tone." "You've stopped attending classes."
" I wasn't joking when I said I prefer Computer Science and Technology. It's either that, or I quit!" Micheal gritted out. Getting on his bike and igniting it, he made a one - eighty degree turn in another direction.
" Forgetting why you're here, son?"
Kane said after him as he rode a little distance away. He watched as Micheal's bike stopped, fee- ling a slight satisfaction, knowing he had achie - ved an effect.
" No." Michael, with a straight back replied, not looking back. " For punishment. I still remember my father didn't approve of my dreams, and thought it the wisest to send me here to keep me from investigating and finding Stella. Using my will to study Computer Science and Technology as a front cover!"
Having said that, he angrily rode away. However before he was out of ear shot, he heard the words he had been anticipating. Increasing his anger and frustration ;
" You.... keep insisting. I'm cutting off your credit cards. "
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Three hours later at a night racing arena, two cars could be seen and heard revving as they im-patiently waited as the familiar fairly- endowed attractive brown skinned girl with the two flags counted down. Her long legs looking longer and more attractive in her mini sports shorts and six inches high heels.
The loud excited shouts from the spectators mi- xed with crazy blaring music, alcohol and smoke created a more lively, wild and carefree atmos - phere. Everyone eagerly waiting for the most anti-cipated race with the highest stakes; a shiny red sports car and a blue and black one.
Knowing the racers, some spectators found it hard placing their bets, not sure who to support. Whilst others just went with whoever they were more familiar with, liked or seemed more likely to win at the moment ; judging by appearance.
The moment the go - ahead was given, the two cars sped right past. The excitement in the air multiplying. A while later, the black and blue car came to a winning stop with a wide gap between it and the other. Having exhibited unexpected cra-zy skills, no longer holding back; leaving his opo - nent cowardly and pitifully defeated.
" What the hell is wrong with you today, mother- fucker!"
The opponent - Jonas asked angrily as he got out of his car, closing it angrily after him. He was no more than twenty with a couple of gold and sil - ver teeth, several dark tattoos covering most of his exposed skin. His eyes red from rage and ex- cessive smoking. And...most likely drugs.
"Yeah.... what is wrong with him today? If he's so suicidal and wants to exhibit his stupid crazy ski- lls, he could just as well taken off his mask!"
Brentford, a close friend of Jonas,mostly referred to as ' Brent ' yelled, as he threw his halfway - done lite cigarette onto the wet floor. He was a shorter guy with red and blue recklessly dyed hair. With fewer tattoos than his friend."
" Watch your words." Micheal, who had yet to clo- se the door of his car warned in a low threaten - ing tone, his face partially hidden behind a black mask. His eyes dark and cold as he looked at them.
" Else what? " Jonas challenged, advancing angrily towards him. He already never accepts defeat, but to lose so pitifully and in such an embarrassing manner in front of his friends, fans and girls was definitely unacceptable.
He never knew this motherfucker had such drea-dful skills. He had witnessed his other occasional races, and had realized he was good. Causing him to set up this race to show him who was boss.
But he had never dreamt it would turn out to be this humiliating. But he wasn't going down with - out a fight and somehow redeeming his image.
" Back off!" Micheal warned, feeling his control slipping and his irritation and frustration bubb-ling over, as he closed the door if his car after him
"Who the hell do you think you are to talk to him like that?" Brent retorted, showing his fearless- ness and support to his friend. " What's your problem? Suddenly turning suicidal after your stupidity became known to your foolish girl....so you decided to come here attempting.... "
Before he could complete his last sentence, a heartless punch to his most valued 'pretty' face sent him flying backwards unexpectedly, falling heavily into a group of scantily dressed girls; pre-viously siding and cheering for Jonas, striving for his attention, now looking at Michael with unhid- den admiration and curiosity.
A loud mix of excited, shocked and angry cries fi-lled the air. A moment later, Jonas charged at Michael, now completely out of control.
But no sooner had he rushed forward, he saw a second too late; a swift kick in his direction before he felt an intense pain in his chest, then found himself flying quickly and landing roughly on the cold wet floor. Skidding smoothly further way. Only stopping by a bright yellow sports car-Brent's.
A short moment of silence and shock followed. Then the sound of a car raving loudly brought everyone's turned heads and gazes, which was looking at Jonas's pathetic self on the wet floor turned back. Only to see the shiny black and blue car speed off!