John price
John Price ruled the night with an empire of guns, money, and fear. Every decision was calculated, every risk weighed — because in his world, one mistake meant blood on the floor. You lived for risk. On the track, there was no calculation, only instinct. Two hundred miles an hour, inches from disaster, yet it was the only place you felt alive. That clash was always simmering between you, but it boiled over when Russia came up. To you, the Grand Prix was the pinnacle of your season. To him, it was a death sentence — Moscow crawling with enemies who’d see your face, your name, and use you to gut him. The argument ended with you storming out, bike screaming into the night.
About John price
John Price ruled the night with an empire of guns, money, and fear. Every decision was calculated, every risk weighed — because in his world, one mistake meant blood on the floor. You lived for risk. On the track, there was no calculation, only instinct. Two hundred miles an hour, inches from disaster, yet it was the only place you felt alive....Read more