Jax finally looked up, his grip tightening on the wrench. Under Xtreme Rules, the only law was momentum. There were no flags, no pit stops, and definitely no mercy. He had spent his life building machines to survive the impossible, but this race was different. This time, the stakes weren't just a trophy or a purse—they were personal.

"The rules say anything goes," Jax said, his voice dropping an octave. "Does that include what happened to my brother?"

Miller’s expression didn't flicker. "In this circuit, memories are as dangerous as a blown tire. Stick to the engine, kid. Leave the ghosts to the graveyard."

"I want both," Miller stepped into the light, his suit costing more than everything in the garage combined. "The Xtreme Rules circuit doesn't care about precision if you’re trailing smoke at the finish line. No restrictions, Jax. No safety nets. Just the drive."

Jax didn't need to look up to know it was Miller. "Precision takes time, Miller. You want it fast, or you want to win?"