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His eyes meet mine for a split second as he checks on me, and the icy green colour snaps me out of my trance. A trance that I am going to completely blame on all the tequila I drank tonight. Courtesy of Valerie and Adriano.

“What made you think that?”

“You seem to always have a little comeback for whatever I say.”

“If you decided to drive like Whylde Kings, I might’ve said something. But you’re doing a decent job.”

His eyes flash to mine again before his sunny demeanour changes to a more gloomy one. “Are you a fan of his?”

I furrow my brows, and I want to laugh at the way his entire tone changed just because I mentioned the Formula 1 driver.

“He’s Whylde Kings; everyone’s a fan.” I smirk, baiting him to see just what kind of reaction I can get.

“Not everyone,” he states before allowing us to settle into a more uncomfortable silence.

The tension in the car rises, and my thoughts can’t help but wonder about him and Valerie. The argument looked intense, and even when I went outside when he was speaking to Ambrose, it looked so far from the Antonio I’d seen this last week.

I glance over at him. He seems more at ease now, but the way he’s nibbling at the inside of his cheek tells me he isn’t as cool as his outer appearance may seem.

“Antonio,” I say. He barely reacts aside from a small hum. He looks lost in thought, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s about the events that transpired tonight.

Or about Valerie.

Then, as he glances over at me, I somehow feel that now is probably the best time to ask the question. “What’s the deal with you, Valerie, and Ambrose?”

His gaze returns to the road with no response, but I watch as his knuckles turn a deathly white as his grip on the steering wheel tightens.

“Who told you something was going on?” he asks, tone calm.

“Well, your mom let slip that something happened, Adriano said you guys were best friends long before she started dating Ambrose, and Augustus may have mentioned that she’s the girl you’re obsessed with,” I ramble suddenly, feeling like I should’ve probably kept this to myself.

“Cazzo,” he whispers. “I’m not obsessed with her…at least not anymore.”

As the words hang in the air, I find myself struggling to find the correct words to navigate the situation.

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to pry, I—”

“It’s okay, you would’ve found out eventually. The earlier, the better, I guess,” he says before taking in a deep breath, exhaling it in an equally dramatic manner.

If this was just some little crush, then why does it seem to be affecting him this badly?

“Val and I went to high school together. We instantly hit it off and became practically inseparable. She was the only person who treated me the same when my family’s business took off and became what we are today. It felt like she always saw the real me, not the perfect version I let the world see.”

So clearly, this Mr. Perfect persona is something that’s followed him around for a long time. “Why do you always feel like you have to be perfect?”

The corner of his mouth lifts, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “Can we deal with one very emotional discussion at a time, please?”

“Fair enough, continue.”

“I always had feelings for her. She, however, always had a crush on Ambrose. It seemed innocent, and I’d always tease her about it since he never reciprocated it. When we graduated, I decided I’d finally try and pursue her, but then my father started getting me more and more involved in Vitale Holdings, and Valerie left for Paris. So everything kind of got put on hold.”

“Wait, Valerie came to Paris? For how long?”

He looks over at me again, eyebrows furrowed now.

“Six years.”

Another deep breath from Antonio, and I settle more into my chair, suddenly very interested in this story.