Esme frowns, there was a sniper near by. If there was no threat of a sniper, Esme would react quickly. However she did not want to lose anyone, and so she signals for her group to stay quiet and stay still. The Riders' assumptions were true as a Maestro tattoo was revealed. Esme's eyes narrow, her own tattoo that marked her as both as Rider and as heir were hidden. Which were possibly a good thing. If the Maestro's didn't already know that she was heir. Behind her, Rose scoffs in annoyance at the boy's words. Esme raises an eyebrow. Speaking in Romanian towards Lucas, who to had learned the language.

"Sexist much?" Lucas mutters back in the same language,"Arrogant much?" Then they listen to the rest of the speech, and this time Esme couldn't hide the surprise that went through her eyes. The contractor was not originally theirs? Did Father know, or was this completely unknown by even the eldest Atherton. Esme's eyes narrow again as the boy gets closer, before he stops before her. Her hand flashes towards her gun but before she could even touch the holster. The boy's hands were on her.

Next thing she knew, Esme's back was pressed against the boy's chest. Shocked into stillness, the boy had no issue getting to her holster and grabbing her gun. Flinging it in the shadows. Then just as quickly she was pushed away. Esme's hand flashes up to stop her gang, already sensing the lunging motion before it even happened. There were grumbles, but none of her gang dared to move. They knew the dangers of a sniper. If only Esme knew where he was, and if she had her gun. Esme watches with narrowed eyes. However she doesn't react.

Finally the driver out cold, the boy turns towards her. The boy lets out a whistle, and the sniper appears. Esme's hand by instinct flashes to her holster but the gun was gone. Esme cusses under her breath, as she keeps her steely gaze flashes. Even under the pressure of a loaded gun pointed at her. Then the boy, who was clearly the leader stripped his shirt off. Esme glances at Lucas in confusion, what was the point of that? Before her gaze flashes back towards the boy.

"Yes. This is mine." Came the cold reply, refusing to budge even as the boy got closer. Then she watches as he runs a hand across the hood. Her eyes flash,"Excuse me?" Then the boy was right there in front of her, and next thing she knew he had her keys. Esme was startled, and she steps back. Barely hearing the whistle that told the Maestro's to retreat. Or the words the boy threw towards her as they steal her Corvette. The cars take off and Esme is left staring after the tail lights.

"Shit!" She said, spinning towards her gang. Esme sighs,"At least there was nothing important in that car. And at least that wasn't my favorite car." Esme shakes her head,"Come on. Let's get the convoy home. Inform Father, and then I need a drink and a race." There were no chuckles, the Riders were shook about what just happened. "Damned snipers. Damned Maestro's." Esme mutters as she hauls the passed out driver into the cab and throws him in the back. Before getting behind the wheel. Lucas yelling up.

"Can you even drive a semi?" Esme moves the seat up slightly,"Get in your car. Let's get back." Lucas nods and the other four get in their cars. Then the convoy was off again.
*
"What the hell do you mean you let the Maestro's kick your ass?" The convoy had finally reached the base and after the checks and protocols, they were in. Leaving the unloading to the others, Esme had gone to report to her father. And Callum Atherton was pissed. Esme sighs,"Not on purpose, Dad! They had a sniper, and I couldn't find him." Callum shakes his head,"Did they benefit from the stolen Corvette?" Esme shakes her head.

"I've already gone to security and they've shut that radio down. And I had my phone on me, so they didn't get anything. My cars are always empty. No locations are pinned on map, no money, no information. Nothing." Callum sighs,"Alright. Well at least we have the convoy. But we will have to find a different contractor. This time from further out, and make sure they have no connection to the Maestro's." Esme nods,"Am I free to go?"

Callum nods, and Esme heads off. Stopping by the base's bar to down two drinks. Then she heads to her garage. Glancing at the cars that were lined up. Mustang still out, she chose a different car. Just as quick. A gray Hennessey Venom F5, Esme liked only the fastest. The thrill was exhilarating. With a roar, the engine was alive and Esme was off towards one of the most famous places to street race. Straight through the middle of Chicago, but it started out of town.

When they pulled up back in front of the house his father was already waiting to chew him out. God did Matteo hate Andy with a burning passion. The other car pulled up behind the Corvette and Andy immediately started towards the drivers side window. “You are a reckless son of a bitch Matteo! Go put that damn car away. Boss, you, and I need to have a talk.” Cody chuckled as he got out of the passenger seat. Though Matteo raised an eyebrow at Andy. They sat staring eachother down like a pair of alpha wolves. Circling eachother with their dominance. “Like now Matteo!” Rolling his eyes Matt took his hand and saluted Andy but when he brought his hand away he flipped Andy off. He pressed the petal took the metal and took off towards the garage. Honestly a couple tweets could be made to the car but he certainly wasn’t keeping it. His Nissan GT-R Nismo would do just fine for racing. As he pulled into the garage he took a deep breath. “Meeting with Andy? Yeah no thank you.” Mumbling as he got out of the car he just chucked the keys on top of the front right tire.

•

There was supposed to be this big race tonight with over 10 competitors. It would take him long enough to go through that he would get to skip this damned meeting. I mean who would want to listen to Andy rattle on for an hour about how reckless Matteo is? What’s that? Nobody, especially Matteo who rather rip the mans head off. Suddenly his father walked in the shop and seemed surprised for a moment as he saw the cars. Though thankfully he turned his attention back to Matteo. “I haven’t told anybody yet but, son, my heart is failing me.” Everything was still for a long moment. Neither party knew what exactly to say. “Matteo you don’t have to say anything right now but we do need to talk later on. Doctors say that I only have a couple months left. The gang needs a good leader and I know you are the right fit. You just need to put your head in it.” Blue eyes stayed on the floor as the soft pad of shoes left. They had started to slowly water but the damn held strong. Now this race was something he needed to do. Tonight he just needed to keep his mind off of things.

•

Snagging the keys of his Nissan he opened the cars door. This one was wrapped in the same matte black that his old corvette was. Like he would ever take his Nissan to go get dirty. Are you insane? Plus he just got a new turbo system installed and he needed to test it out. Out on the road again he wasn’t easy on the gas pedal. Cars beeped at him for cutting them off every so often. He drove and drove until the sun was beginning to go down. That was his cue to head towards the starting line. After a fill up of gas he managed to make it there 10 minutes ahead of time. He had a spare t shirt in the back from who knows what hookup that he stuck on. Honestly he hadn’t driven this one in a race for a little while. He had been tuning his Corvette to run in the big league races. Guess that didn’t turn out so well after all.

•

He parked his car in the space that he drew and headed over to the drink area. After a shot of vodka though he left. Honestly wiskey was more his taste of liquor. Plus girls had started to swarm him asking if he was racing. He was not looking to lead some girl on tonight. Kicking some asses sounded better. Only 7 of the drivers were there at the moment. Evidently 2 had scratched from the race. Which left 10 even to pick off one by one. The position Matteo has drawn wasn’t the best. It was in the back left and the road took a turn right about a mile ahead of the starting line. He could work with it though and get it done. Just might have to work a bit of magic. There had to be atleast one inexperienced driver. Ever race had there own underdog.

Esme and her opponent came roaring to a halt. Well Esme did, then about a minute after her opponent did. Esme had won, she had already raced twice and won both times. Now as she pulls to a parking space and parks. Locking the car and tucking the keys away. Before walking up to the bar, and getting some vodka. Esme still had quite a few races she wanted in. Esme sighs, as she downs the vodka. Her sharp gaze studying the area. There were loads of people here. Including a bunch of girls dressed like strippers and prostitutes.

The men however were the ones rubbing on the girls. Esme rolls her eyes, that was probably one of the only things Esme hated about street racing. The girls dressed like they wanted to get laid, hell some dressed like they were looking to get laid right there in front of everyone. Esme lets out another sigh as she gets another vodka. Esme would let whoever wanted to race next, race. Then she would find a new opponent. Suddenly her green gaze catches something. "Oh that's just great." Esme mutters under her breath. Out of all the people from Chicago here to race. He just had to show up.

Of course it didn't completely surprise her, the Maestro's and the Rider's were both known for their racing. They were known for a lot more as well, but racing was among it. With a sigh, Esme finishes her second vodka and throws the cup away. Headed back towards her car where she would stay until the race was over. Once there, Esme relaxes on the hood of the car, watching at the two cars line up. Esme couldn't help but wonder if the racers here would plan on a big race. With all the competitors here.

(Sorry it's short!)

Music thumped through the air as more and more people piled into the area. Girls were beginning to piss Matteo off. Did they not get the hint that he wasn’t interested. Of course most of them were hot but girls that know it were always trouble. The girls who are also not interested really peak his interest. So far none have showed up. Though as he made his was towards his car he was very mistaken. Of course the Riders were here. Even though he had clearly been spotted they weren’t making a big deal. Guess the best thing to do would be to just ignore eachother.eventually Matteo ended up leaning against the back of his car. Eyes were scanning the competition as they pulled up to the starting line. He would race in the next round with whomever dared to try him. A knife was drawn on a woman as she reached out to touch Matteo’s shirt. Immediately her hands went into the air and once far enough away she ran back to her friends. Maybe that would finally scare them away. After flipping the knife back together he shoved it in his pocket. This was going to be a long night.

•

After about 6 minutes the other pair came back the winner taking his round of victory with the chicks. Spinning his keys around his finger Matteo slide into his cars seat. The engine fired up with a roar and a honk let everybody know he was coming through. Pulling up to the line his heart began to race. The pulsing was taking over the announcer as he called for another racer. Music helped calm his nerves as he waited. Other racers either knew who he was or had just raced and were taking a break. If somebody didn’t step up they would have to draw someone random. Being paired up with a pussy foot was the worst thing that could happen. It wouldn’t be worth it to race against someone who was going to let you win.

•

Above him he could see the starting banner flap. Lights that had been strung up in the area flittered against it. Plus the people in the city who were wide awake had flicked their lights on. Sleeping wasn’t really an option when racers with loud cars sat at your feet. Though there was nothing they could do considering the fact that street racing is only illegal in Cali. It’s not surprising though considering the maniacs that tend to reside in that area. Car gurus tend to go above and beyond over there. Or atleast they used to until they moved to be able to show off their fancy foreign cars. Matteo himself enjoyed showing off his cars but fire erupting out of your tail pipe was a no thank you in his book. So many things could go wrong. Including your car catching fire and then vroom vroom go boom boom. After taking a deep breath Matteo relaxed into the seat. Somebody would eventually step up.

Esme's gaze tracks the cars as far as they could go, then they disappear from sight. But after a while they come back the blue car was ahead the red one and the blue one won. Esme chuckles, as the winner takes his victory and the loser goes off. Throwing a small fit off where he thought no one could see him. Then she straightens up, eyes narrowing as the winner starts his way towards us. "May I help you?" Came the cold greeting as the winner stops before her. The winner grins,"Aren't you a Rider?" Esme narrows her eyes.

"Yes." The winner flashes a grin,"I'm Orland Brock." Esme rolls her eyes,"Did I ask?" Orland pauses slightly,"Wait..." He peers more closely at Esme under the lights of the street racing. "Aren't you Callum's daughter?" Esme cocks an eyebrow,"And if I am?" Orland grins,"Your father's been sending out things about alliance with you as the alliance sealer." Esme blinks,"He's trying to marry me off? So he can get a new alliance?" Orland nods,"Yea." Orland gets closer and Esme punches him. "Yeah. I don't care. I marry who I want to." Orland goes reeling backwards, and Esme slides off the hood.

She slips into her car and grabs her phone. Locking the doors as she dials Lucas. "Esme? How can I help you, I thought you were racing?" Esme sighs,"I was. Well I still am, just not racing at the moment. This dude name Orland Brock just came up to me. Tried to kiss me or something, and I punched him. But he said my father is trying to marry me off to gain a new alliance?" Lucas was quiet, Esme snaps. "You knew?" Lucas sighs,"I walked in on him in a meeting with a bunch of gang leader's that he didn't have an alliance with. He ordered me not to tell." Esme smacks the dashboard. "Alright, thanks I'll call him." Lucas nods before he hangs up.

Esme calls her father next,"Esme, what? I'm busy." Esme snaps,"So I'm now your bargaining chip so you can get a new alliance with another gang?" There was silence and for a minute Esme believed that Callum had hung up. But then he began to speak,"How did you find out?" Esme replies,"Because one of those possible alliance just came up to me and he probably tried to kiss me. I don't know, I just punched him." Once again, Esme thought Callum hung up. Then Callum spoke. "I was going to talk to you about it-"

"When? When Father! When you got a good alliance and everything was settled. Wedding planned? Alliance planned! Truce planned! Father, I don't accept. Tell your possible allies that you will be finding another way to create an alliance. Besides the youngest gang leader is like what? Forty!" Then without waiting for a response, Esme hangs up. Sighing then she mutters,"Such a cliche life as the daughter of a gang leader." Then she glances towards the starting line.

There was a car waiting for a opponent to race, but Esme noticed it was the Maestro boy. Esme narrows her eyes, then shrugs. What the hell, why not. Esme starts her car before pulling up to the starting line beside the Maestro, engine roaring below her. Esme glances sideways to her opponent then back to the road. Ready to race, she needed to blow some steam. Esme takes a deep breath, as her phone begins to ring. She hardly spares a glance, it was her father. But she ignores it, if it was important he would text.

Sitting at the line seemed to be lasting forever. Even when another car pulled up everything was moving in slow motion. Taking a deep breath Matteo turned down the radio and peeped at his opponent. Same Rider he had faced earlier. Easy match for sure. Though suddenly one voice took precedence out of everybody.

-

“It’s the Maestro prince against the Rider Princess!”

-

Taking a double take Matteo let out a chuckle and smirked. The radio drowned out whatever was said next. “Ain’t no rest for the wicked until we close our eyes for good.” Bases in the car shook rapidly as the song changed. Matteo swayed slightly in his seat humming the tune.

-

Infront of the cars the flag dropped right on the beat. The bets must have stopped and now the crowd awaited the race eagerly. Tires squealed before they finally gripped thee pavement below. Into the first turn Matteo lead the race. “I wish I had Jessie’s girl!” Above the wing flowing in through the windows Matteo jammed out just trying to take his mind off of events at home. Fingers drummed against the wheel but suddenly gripped and spun the wheel causing the car the drift around the next corner.

-

“Are you ready? Are you ready for this? Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?”

-

“Another one bites the dust.” The next turn his car spun wide and the end hit a cone that was set up for directions. It ended up under his tire but only momentarily. His opponent had time then and passed him. After that he had been pushed into auto pilot. Music now enveloped the car as he turned it up as loud as it would go.

-

Even using nitro didn’t help Matteo in this loosing situation. It wasn’t long before they approached the finish line. A crowd had gathered around some daring to step out into the road. Out of the figures Cody stood with a certain distant look on his face. Nobody seemed to noticed the pistol hanging in his hand.

-

Petal to the metal now Matteo felt the car under him shake before entering the last gear. Welcome To The Jungle blared our of the speakers. “I wanna watch you bleed!” Matteo screamed as loud as possible emerging right up beside his opponent. Even though he tried his efforts were fruitless. She had won by nearly a fender. The music died out as they came to a stop.

-

Wind had caused Matteo’s hair to look like he just rolled out of bed. A sigh escaped him as he pushed open his car door. It still purred as he leaned his back against the frame. As he crossed his arms the glint of the blade captured the lights of the spectators. Some people groaned as they had lost and the others bragged with a new load of cash in their hands. Maestros barely loose especially to other gangs.

-

Cody had approached Matteo and they silently discussed and now Matteo had that same lingering distant look upon his face. It was then that the same voice as before rang out. “Everybody say hello to the new leader of the Maestros!” A deadly look had appeared over Matteo’s face. His eyes had gone cold as the news settled over him. The old leader, his father, had died and news sure travelled fast.

As soon as the flag dropped, so did Esme's foot right on the pedal. Her music was up loud enough for her to hear, but not blaring. Despite the fact she was losing at the moment, she was still just humming to the music. "Hit the pedal heavy metal." She half sings as the Maestro boy gave up his lead by hitting a cone. At once, Esme hits the nitro and she shoots past him. Barely missing him. It was that mistake that lost the Maestro the race. Esme winning by a fender.

She pulls out of the way, parking the car before getting out. Some of the other Riders who were at the race, came up cheering. Esme waves them off as she sends a glance at the Maestro boy, to bad they didn't bet with cars. Perhaps she could have gotten her Corvette back. Esme glances back at the other Riders who were now leaning on their own car. While around them, money was given away for lost bets. Betting, one thing Esme refused to do at races. Despite her gang's wealth.

"Hey, Es!" The Rider's heir shakes herself out of her thoughts as she goes to join the Rider's. Leaning against her hood, as a vodka was passed to her. Then across the crowd, silence poured through. At the same time Aaron, a friend of Lucas', leans over to whisper in her ear. "The Maestro leader is dead. That Maestro Prince you raced?" Esme inclines her head slightly, murmuring back. "He's now the Maestro King." Aaron sighs,"Yeah." Esme leans back slightly faking a casual conversation as does Aaron.

"Does Father know?" Aaron takes a sip of his drink letting out a loud laugh to keep up the facade,"No." Esme nods as she takes a sip of her own drink, allowing her own laugh to slip through quieter then Aaron's. "I'll let him know when we get back." Aaron nods as his gaze tracks the other Rider's. They would all leave together, to make sure if a fight ensured none were alone. Aaron asks,"How long do you plan on racing?" Esme peers into her car, checking the gas,"Maybe one more race. Or I might be done for the night." Esme takes a gulp of vodka before jerking her head towards the others.

"How many races do they want to race?" Aaron glances over before glancing back at Esme,"I'd say all together they've got about three or four more races." Esme nods as she finishes the vodka,"Alright." As she gets up and throws her drink away, before returning to sit on the hood on her car. Watching the races, while she stayed wary of where the new Maestro leader was. Grief could make people do crazy things, but so could power. Combined? Who knew what could happen. Not to mention, Esme didn't even know if the Maestro King even cared for his father. Perhaps the boy was happy for his father's death, and the look on his face was simply a facade.

There are many stages of grief. First comes the shock. It hits you all at once right where it hurts. Tears push against the dams which are just about at their breaking point. Usually all the tears come flooding out and a big gross, sniffly, snotty mess is left in its wake. Even though each person takes their own course it’s usually the same. Nobody can understand the amount of lose that is felt. It’s like there’s this hole inside that seems like it will never fill in.

-

Eyes watched the Riders looking for any sort of reaction. It wasn’t hard to spot a fake reaction when one was being put on by the onlooker. Matteo was stone faced even though his eyes burned. They felt as if he had just opened his eyes under water for the first time. Racing again could be dangerous and from now on his identity would need to be hidden. A new car for sure so that people didn’t recognize the plates even if they are fake.

-

After a minute some man approached him with a giant grin on his face. “You’re staring at my future wife. She’s one beautiful whore, isn’t she?” Even Matteo didn’t understand what ensued the reaction he gave. A punch to the mans throat left him gasping for air all sprawled out on the ground. After stepping into the guys head Matteo bent down slightly. “I would suggest that you watch your damn mouth sir. If I catch you talking life that again I might just tell her what you said. Now I would pay to watch her beat the shit outta you.” Matteo rose and pushed the mans face across the ground with his foot. After scrambling to his feet the guy managed a few feet and collapsed.

-

Codys hand cause Matteo to spin around with his gun aimed. Even after realizing who it was he kept it still. “Fucking touch me...” After jerking the car door open Matteo tossed the gun into the passenger seat. He knew that it was clear to onlookers just how much he had cared for his father. Time and space to think was what Matteo needed at the moment.

- —— -

Matteo fled the scene and ran further towards the edge of town. There was this one hill with an amazing view that he always went to with his father. Once his father started getting sick those trips had ended and Matteo had sort of forgotten about the place. No stairs and no road made it hard to access the area. It was now nearing midnight when the rumbling stopped and gravel crunches under Matteo’s feet. Usually he would grab his gun but nothing really mattered in this moment.

-

A small broken picnic table adorned the top of the hill. Most likely brought here by some party goers. Looked just about at its breaking point but Matteo climbed on top and lay flat on his back. Clouds were unseen as the stars stared back down. Although Mat didn’t bother with the sky. Eyes were instead looking at the lone tree where two initials had been carved carefully into the side. So many memories that could have been made. Too many words left unsaid. Guilt was yet another stage of grief that some endured.

-Three Weeks Later-

Three weeks had passed, and a lot had happened recently. A lot that had pissed Esme off a lot. Her father and Esme now had a bit of an estranged relationship, and Lucas and Esme's relationship was a bit strained as well. But Esme was fighting back quite fiercely, as well as the fact that Callum now had to deal with the fact that the Maestro's had a new leader.

Esme glares at her father,"I've already told you no! I will not marry your little friend!" Callum narrows his eyes,"Orland Brock is the most powerful gang aside from the Maestro's and us. It will be a good alliance. But he will not allow an alliance between us without a marriage to you." Esme snaps,"So your so willing to just throw your daughter under the bus? I said no Dad, so get it through your thick skull that I will not marry Orland Brock!"

Callum shakes his head,"Esme...." Esme simply spins and storms out the room, Callum calling out after her,"Esme! Wait...Orland..." It was to late, Esme found herself face to face with Orland Brock. She at once steps back away from Brock,"Hi sweetie." Esme snarls,"Don't call me that." Footsteps echo behind them, and Callum joins them,"Orland. I thought I told you to wait until I got her to agree?" Orland frowns slightly,"Well after getting punched by her, then knocked out by the little Maestro boy. I got a little impatient. So I came to renegotiate our terms."

Esme steps back another step, aware of Brock's hungry and quiet disgusting gaze. Callum narrows his eyes slightly,"Which is?" Brock replies,"I'll give you two weeks for the wedding to take place, or I'm calling off the alliance." Callum was swift to protest,"We agreed on a month." Brock shakes his head,"I'm changing it." Callum was pissed,"Brock. One month." Brock glances around aware of the other Rider's in the room who had their eyes trained on him. "Three weeks." Callum nods,"Fine."

"Uh, Es?" Esme pulls herself out of her thoughts, focusing on Aaron,"Yes?" Aaron raises an eyebrow,"Are you okay?" Esme sighs,"Sure. We'll go with that." She, Aaron, and some of the other Rider's were at the races. Esme had already raced twice, winning both quite recklessly as well. The Princess of the Rider's was pissed, and she showed it with her racing. The Rider's had listened to their leader and their heir argue for weeks about the marriage alliance.

In fact their yelling had echoed through the main facility and even a bit outside. So if there was a Rider who didn't know about the now estranged relationship between the Atherton's, was either deaf or blind or both. Esme let's out a sigh,"Oh great. Here he comes." Indeed Orland Brock was heading their way, and Aaron stiffens calling across. "You better walk away now, Brock." Brock snorts,"I have every right to come see my future wife."

Esme rolls her eyes,"I haven't accepted your so called proposal yet. So you have no right to call me that. And I have ever right to shoot you dead." Brock scoffs,"You kill me, and your gang will find yourselves at war with mine." Esme was on her feet at once, snapping. "The Rider's and the Maestro's are the most powerful gangs around, Brock. Not yours, so don't you forget that. If your little Wolves dare challenge us." Aaron cuts in,"Then there will be no more Wolves."

Brock's gaze flashes away from Esme's, to see that most of the other Rider's there were circling closer all eyeing Brock. About ninety percent of the Rider's agreed with Esme, and hated the idea of the alliance with Brock's Scarlet Wolves. Which was obvious now. Brock glares at Esme before reluctantly slinking away, leaving the Rider's alone. Esme nods at the others before returning to her seat beside Aaron. As the others return to whatever they had been doing.

So much time passed that too many things had changed. A tad bit of scruff now added to Matteo’s complexion. His hair only recently cut after being let grow out for a while. Grief can cause people to do the most unimaginable things. Self care is usually not even given a single chance to come to the light. Everything so bottled up that crying to sleep becomes apart of the routine.

-

The funeral was the second week following the race. Everything helped set up by Cody and some of the other members. Matteo spent most of his time licked away in his fathers studies. Paperwork flooded every inch of his thoughts. Although his cars were left to sit out in the garage. When paperwork finally began running out he then peeked into check. Not a single race has been run ever since that one night.

-

Andy of course only stayed a little while. Running off to join another gang. Possibly Mr. Brock and his band of big bad wolves. They have been wanting to take the Maestros down for a very long time now. Andy definitely most likely looking for a way to get back at Matteo. Tonight was finally the night that Matteo was to make an appearance. The normal routine needed to start back up. Getting in control of his own life was priority number 1. Being the head of one of the most powerful gangs put all eyes directly on him.

-

Stress is a very powerful feeling that can take over anyone’s actions and cause people to make mistakes. Many had been made by Matteo in the past few weeks. Hell was given to the whole gang by others saying that their leader was turning into a psycho. Everybody was saying that they needed to kick Matteo off he throne. They were about to aswell when Matteo returned home one day putting out orders. Normal is what others need to see so that they don’t think that the Maestros are any less weak.

-—-

Later that night Matteo found himself surrounded in Riders. A new red corvette replaced his old car. Not quite tuned to the same level but still winning races. It was then that Mr. Brock approached Matteo while he was in his car. In turn Matteo shut and locked the car before turning away and leaving. Instead Matteo made a bold move and found himself standing in front of one of the Riders men. Arms crossed a glare and the raise of an eyebrow cause them to get up. Although they didn’t go far away from their future boss. The seat was then occupied by Matteo.

-

“So... what’s the situation with Brock? Don’t fucking tell me to butt out because he’s been all over my ass recently.”

-

Eyes glided over the cars racing next. His prediction would be found when they both got back. Matteo leaned back and slumped in his seat slightly. After his hand glided over the sleeve on his arm he drew his hands back to being crossed over his chest. Unlike usual he wore a beanie and a blue jean jacket. The new normal was hiding his identity at these types of events. Shifting his feet he pushed them out infront of himself and crossed them. Trying to give her guards or whatever the signal that he didn’t plan to harm her was harder than you might think.