[Elena's POV]

The Bentley surged forward.

The Harleys matched our speed effortlessly.

And one of them, the one closest to Noah's window, reached into his jacket.

I saw the glint of metal. It was from a gun.

"Mr. Marlowe," I said, my voice tight. "They're armed."

"I know," he said calmly like this was all going exactly according to plan.

SJ was sweating now, his eyes darting between the road and the motorcycles flanking us.

"What do they want?" he yelled. "What the fuck do they want?"

Noah ...