Page 207 of Celestial Combat

He gave me a small, knowing smile. “Marunouchi district. Bought it a few years back. No one knows it’s mine.”

Glass towers pierced the night sky like glittering spears, in the distance.

I glanced at Zane, who’d been watching me.

“What?”

“Tokyo looks good on you.”

I smiled as I shifted gears and stepped on the gas, letting the city blur around us.

“Go on,” Zane said, nodding forward, his voice a low dare. “We’re in Tokyo. You can go fast.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I shifted up, pressed down hard, and let the car surge forward. The city blurred – neon signs becoming streaks of violet and jade, tunnels echoing back our roar.

The speedometer ticked up.

One-fifty.

One-seventy.

Two-hundred.

Then, flashing lights.

I saw them in the rearview. A patrol car on the shoulder, headlights flipping on.

“Zane, the police–”

He didn’t even blink. Just leaned over and said with a smirk,

“You know, in Tokyo, the police don’t chase anyone going over one-eighty,” He said with a smirk. “It’s inTokyo Drift. They can’t catch you, so they don’t even try.”

I stared at him. “No way that was real.”

“Yeah. You can live out yourFast&Furiousfantasy this week. I’ll allow it.”

“You’ll allow it?” I teased, laughing.

“Just don’t crash my damn car.”

I laughed loudly and pushed the pedal harder. “I knew this was a rental!”

His head fell back with laughter too. “Don’t insult me like that. I paid a good two million to get you this toy. Modified and everything. Fresh out the shop.”

I downshifted and flew through the next tunnel like we were untouchable.

Because with him next to me, that’s exactly what I felt like.

The apartment smelled like steam and sesame oil. Tokyo’s neon pulse lit the living room in soft reds and blues, bleeding in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. We’d showered off theflight, the smoke from the ramen shop, the miles of snow behind us. Now the city breathed around us – high above the world, in a glass-and-marble penthouse that still barely felt like mine.

Kali padded barefoot across the polished floor with two bowls of noodles. Her hair was damp, face clean, wearing one of my t-shirts and a thong she’d pulled from her bag. She looked like peace. Or the closest thing I’d ever found to it.

“Seeing something you like?” she raised a brow, handing me one bowl with a smirk.

I chuckled and shifted over on the bed to make room. “You know I’m obsessed with you.”

She winked.“As you should.”