Logan lay on the couch, his ribs still aching from the race, as Elsa sat beside him, carefully tending to his injuries. She dipped a cloth in warm water, gently dabbing at the bruises on his side.
"You know," she murmured, "for someone who keeps saying he doesn't want to die young, you sure have a funny way of showing it."
Logan smirked. "Wasn't exactly part of the plan, but hey, at least I got the crowd chanting my name."
Elsa shook her head but couldn't hide her small smile. "Idiot."
Before Logan could respond, Matthew walked in, arms crossed, a teasing grin on his face. "So, should I start planning the wedding now? Since you and Elsa are practically acting like an old married couple."
Elsa shot him a glare, but Logan just chuckled. "You sure you wanna push your luck, Matt? I did just take an RPG for you."
Matthew grinned. "Yeah, yeah, hero complex and all that. Speaking of which, since the whole damn race was about you surviving a C4 like some action movie protagonist, no one even remembered to ask me how much I won."
William, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms folded, finally spoke. "Fair point. So, how much did you actually win?"
Matthew smirked. "Four million."
Jessica, sitting on the armrest of the couch, added, "Actually, because of how you took down half the competitors, and the way you used your tech, they threw in an extra million. So, technically, five."
Logan raised a brow, his smirk widening. "Damn, five million? That's a lot. I saved your life, so I think I deserve a cut. You know, a million at least. Maybe even two."
Matthew scoffed. "Oh, so now you charge for saving people?"
Logan shrugged. "You got five, I got some broken ribs and a concussion. Feels fair to me."
Jessica laughed. "He's got a point."
Matthew rolled his eyes but grinned. "Fine, fine. I'll think about it. Maybe I'll buy you some painkillers or something."
The room filled with laughter as Logan shook his head. "You better be glad I like you, Matt."
The night carried on with jokes and lighthearted banter, but beneath it all, they all knew—the race was just the beginning.
As the night went on, the team settled into their usual rhythm—talking, joking, and making plans for what came next. Despite the intensity of the race, things finally felt normal again.
Elsa made Logan lean back against the couch, brushing his hair out of his face as he winced from the soreness in his ribs. "You're staying put for at least a few days, understand?" she said firmly.
Logan exhaled. "I don't need a babysitter, Elsa."
She shot him a look. "You literally collapsed after walking out of an explosion. So yeah, you do."
William smirked from across the room. "Just take the L, man."
Matthew, still basking in his five-million-dollar win, leaned against the kitchen counter. "Speaking of which, Logan, since you're always rolling in cash, you really don't need a cut of my winnings, right?"
Logan gave him a lazy smirk. "True. But that doesn't mean I won't take it out of principle."
Jessica laughed, shaking her head. "He's got a point. Besides, you'd probably just spend it all on some ridiculous vehicle modifications anyway."
Matthew pointed at her. "First of all, I take offense to that. Second of all, I absolutely would."
The conversation was interrupted by a buzzing sound—Jessica checked her phone and hummed. "Looks like the Death Sport organization posted a full breakdown of the race. Logan, your stunt with the C4 is already getting crazy attention online. People are calling you 'Grey Ghost' now."
Logan raised a brow. "'Grey Ghost'?"
William nodded. "Fits. You came out of a literal fireball like a damn phantom."
Elsa tilted her head. "It's kinda cool, actually."
Matthew smirked. "That's how nicknames stick. Guess you're 'Grey Ghost' now."
Logan sighed, leaning back. "Great. Another title to add to the list."
The night continued with drinks, light banter, and the comfort of knowing that, despite the chaos, they had all made it out alive. But they knew this was only the beginning—bigger battles lay ahead, and the Death Race was just a taste of what was coming.
The atmosphere in the living room was light, but the exhaustion from the race was still lingering. Jessica scrolled through her phone before looking up at Logan.
"My dad wants to have dinner with you."
Logan raised a brow. "Your dad? The same guy who basically interrogated Matthew over dinner?"
Jessica smirked. "That's the one. But this time, it's not just him. Some of the important members of the Death Sport organization want to meet the man making waves."
Matthew chuckled. "Damn, Logan, your car went up in flames, and now you're a worldwide sensation."
Logan shot him a deadpan look. "I almost died. And it's basically because of you that a C4 got planted on my car."
William leaned back, smirking. "At least I still got my Mercedes G63 AMG in perfect condition—not in flames."
Logan scoffed. "Yeah, yeah. Next time, I'm ramming you off the track."
Matthew patted Logan's shoulder mockingly. "Well, good luck, man. After my experience with Jessica's father, you're gonna need it."
Logan exhaled. "Great. Can't wait."
Elsa, who had been sitting next to Logan, leaned against him slightly. "Speaking of Death Sport… now that you're a star, are you thinking about doing another event after you heal?"
Logan thought for a moment before flashing a small smirk. "I'll do it for the fans."
Matthew, William, and Jessica immediately groaned.
Matthew shook his head. "This guy—one race and he's already a showman."
Jessica sighed. "We've created a monster."
William smirked. "Next thing we know, he's signing autographs mid-race."
Before Logan could reply, Elsa covered his mouth with her hand. "Enough. You're all just feeding his ego."
Logan chuckled against her palm before gently pulling her hand away. "Hey, if people are gonna chant my name, I might as well give them a show."
The group laughed, but beneath the jokes, they all knew that Logan's growing reputation wasn't just about entertainment—it was making waves in places that mattered. The dinner meeting with Jessica's father and the Death Sport elites was proof of that.