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ALEXANDER

I was in love with my best friend’s little sister, my fake girlfriend, and the only woman who had ever captured so much of my attention. I didn’t want to be with anyone else, or doing anything else. Honestly, all this PR bullshit would have been insufferable if not for her. I wasn’t used to it, though—the whole not being alone thing. Not having to only rely on yourself.

When she had asked me about my angel wing tattoo, my heart felt like it might have thumped right out of my chest. Because it was from the poem, the dog-eared page, the underlined words. I had read every page of that book that day on the lake. I had committed it to memory. But that one hit me hardest. I was the first to admit that I was a sap for shit like that. Poems, songs, they just knew how to pull at the heartstrings.

“Well, Alexander,” started Mark, his glasses perched low on his nose as he tapped his pen against the table. He was not my favorite person currently, holding my renewal contract over my head like the rest of the management team for Belen that sat in front of me. “We’ve had an interesting week, haven’t we?”

The office had the kind of polished sterility that made me uncomfortable. Too clean, too controlled. The walls were a pale, uninspired gray, decorated with awards and framed photos of past victories. Nothing personal. Just the way Belen liked it. I sat in one of the sleek chairs across from the management team, three of them sitting like a jury on the other side of the long mahogany table.

“That’s one way to put it,” I replied, leaning back in my chair. My tone was calm, almost indifferent, but inside I was braced for the blow.

“We’re not thrilled about the fight being plastered all over the news,” chimed Claudia, head of corporate strategy. She folded her hands neatly in front of her. “It’s…unprofessional. Not the image we want associated with Belen Racing, especially not from one of our champions. While Anna was in contact with us about the so-called reasoning, it did not sit well with upper management.”

“I didn’t start it,” I said, meeting her gaze directly.

“Doesn’t matter who started it,” Mark interjected, his tone clipped. “What matters is that the world saw you involved in an altercation. It’s not the kind of headline we want associated with Belen.”

“Understood,” I said, biting down on the words I really wanted to say.

“But,” Claudia cut in, glancing down at a stack of papers in front of her, “there is…a silver lining.” She looked up, her expression softening slightly. “Your relationship with Lucia.”

Mark nodded, leaning forward. “The public response has been overwhelmingly positive. People see you as more relatable, grounded. The fight, surprisingly, hasn’t overshadowed that narrative. If anything, it’s framed you as fiercely protective—of Lucia, of Gia.”

Claudia smiled faintly. “They like you, Alexander. The protective boyfriend, the father figure, it’s a good look. You seem…committed. In love.”

I didn’t miss the way she emphasized the last word.

I kept my face neutral, though my chest tightened at the mention of Lucia. “And about the renewal?”

Mark leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled. “The play is to keep doing what you’re doing. Show that you’re serious about this relationship. Corporate likes the image. You in love and all. You’ll need to maintain that positive reputation if you want things to go smoothly.”

“If I want things to go smoothly?” I repeated, my voice carrying an edge. It felt like a threat and I did not like it. I knew how much went down behind closed doors, all the pieces that needed to fall just right, but still not having a renewal this late in the season was nerve racking, to say the least. I had seen the articles, questioning if I would even have a seat next year. Obviously I would; I had been consistently high in the points week after week. But would it be in a Belen seat or someone else’s?

“The renewal offer,” Claudia clarified, her tone measured. “It’s still in the works. There are…logistics to iron out.”

I nodded, though the frustration simmered beneath the surface. They were holding my future over my head, as if my performance on the track hadn’t already proven my worth a hundred times over.

“But,” Claudia continued, “if you keep up the good press, if you stay out of trouble and show the world the Alexander Wright they love—the loyal partner, the champion, the team player—all will be well.”

“Noted,” I said, standing up before they could dismiss me like some rookie. “Anything else?”

Mark opened his mouth to speak, but I didn’t wait for him to respond. Claudia stood up before I could leave, shook my hand, and said goodbye.

Anna immediately intercepted me as I left the management’s office.

“So?” she asked expectantly, falling into step with me. I was walking at an unreasonably fast pace, too amped up to slow down. But she matched me, step for step.

“So?” Anna repeated, her voice sharp enough to cut through the haze of my frustration.

I didn’t answer immediately, weaving past a group of junior staff who scrambled to get out of my way. Anna stayed on my heels, unfazed.

“They love the relationship angle,” I said finally, my tone flat. “But they’re not happy about the fight. Apparently, decking that guy didn’t scream ‘brand ambassador of the year.’”

Anna huffed, rolling her eyes. “Of course, they aren’t happy about the fight. They’re corporate robots—they’d prefer you to smile and shake hands, even with someone who deserved a punch to the face.”

“Great advice,” I said dryly, pushing open the door to the quieter hallway that led to my private suite.

Anna followed, undeterred. “What about the renewal? Did they give you anything concrete?”

“No.” The word came out harsher than I intended. “It’s still ‘under discussion.’” I made air quotes with my fingers, my frustration finally bubbling to the surface. “But they made it pretty damn clear that my future depends on me keeping my ‘good reputation’ intact.”

Anna frowned, her pace slowing as we neared the end of the hall. “So let’s keep the relationship front and center, push on the family side with Gia too.

“I don’t know,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I’m supposed to keep being the perfect boyfriend. Keep making them money, but the brand deals are up, money is rolling in, what else do they want?”

I paused outside my suite, the irony of the words hanging heavy in the air. Anna tilted her head, studying me like she was waiting for me to say something more.

“And what about you?” she asked suddenly, her voice softer now.

I turned to look at her, startled. “What about me?”

“Are you okay?”

The question hit me like a gut punch. Anna wasn’t one to mince words, and she had a way of asking things that made you confront truths you weren’t ready to face.

I opened my mouth to brush it off with a joke, but no words came out. Instead, I thought about Lucia—about her laugh, her fire, the way she held Gia like the world began and ended with her daughter. I thought about the way she’d smiled at me that morning, soft and hesitant, like she was still figuring out what to make of all this.

The answer was there, buried under layers of denial and complication, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. Not yet.

Anna didn’t press, just gave me a knowing look. “You might want to figure that out,” she said, her tone brisk again. “Because how much you care for that girl, both of them, that’s real. No matter how many times you try to tell yourself it’s a part of the act. I would tell her before it’s too late.”

Before I could respond, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving me alone in the hallway with her words echoing in my head.

I exhaled sharply, pulling open the door to my suite. The room was quiet, dimly lit by the afternoon sun streaming through the curtains. I tossed my keys onto the table and sank onto the couch, my head falling into my hands.

Anna’s words wouldn’t leave me alone, no matter how hard I tried to push them away. Because deep down, I knew the truth. I wasn’t just playing a role anymore, hadn’t been in some time. And that scared the hell out of me. I pulled out a notebook shoved into a bag, a sketchbook I tried to keep on me. I had always liked to sketch when I had free time, it helped clear my mind. As I opened the notebook, a folded piece of paper fell out. I opened it.

As long as I’m alive, you’ll always have someone who’s proud of you in everything.

She left me a note.

* * *

It was the morning of the Mexico GP, and the paddock was alive with energy. Mechanics rushed between the garage and pit lane, finalizing setups while the engineers huddled over screens analyzing data. My team’s signature black, blue, and pink gear blended into the chaos, a testament to how close-knit and efficient we were. I had secured pole position in qualifying yesterday, but the weight of today loomed heavy. With Carlos from Moretti breathing down my neck in the Drivers’ Championship, today’s points were pivotal. A win here could solidify my lead—or leave me vulnerable. I had woken up with a certain type of determination. I had thought about what Anna had said, that whatever this was between me and Lucia, it was real. And if I didn’t want to lose her when this whole fake relationship was up, then I needed to man up. So I told myself when I woke up, if I win this race, then I’ll tell Lucia how I feel, for real.

My pre-race ritual was designed to keep me centered. I’d woken before sunrise, the city’s quiet broken only by my footsteps as I jogged around the track with my trainer. Afterward, I refueled with a perfectly portioned meal from my nutritionist—light, clean, nothing too heavy. Meditation followed, grounding me amid the pressure. Now, I was back in my private lounge, pacing the limited space like a caged animal, headphones in, playlist blaring. The bass thumped in my ears, syncing with my heartbeat as I tried to push away the nerves clawing at my insides.

Everyone on the team knew better than to disturb me during this sacred time. Even Anna, my PR manager, avoided me unless it was an emergency. The room was my sanctuary, and I intended to savor every minute of solitude before heading to the grid. At least, I thought I would. A knock broke my focus, cutting through the music and my thoughts like a sharp blade.

I tugged one earbud out. “Yeah?”

“It’s me,” Lucia’s voice filtered through the door, soft and hesitant.

My hand moved on instinct, pulling the door open. She stood there, slightly out of breath, her cheeks flushed from what I assumed was chasing after Gianna or running an errand. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and she held her purse against her chest.

“Hey,” she said, her voice quiet but filled with an edge of urgency.

“Hi.” My tone softened, her presence somehow settling the turmoil in my chest.

“I know you’re getting ready,” she started, eyes dropping to her hands, which she was twisting nervously. “I just…I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

I tried for my usual dismissive response, the one that kept my nerves hidden. “Yeah, of course.”

Her gaze lifted, cutting straight through me. Lucia always had this way of seeing the parts of me I tried to bury. I felt naked under her scrutiny, and it was clear she wasn’t buying my brush-off. We had run into each other in the hallway of the hotel on our private floor at an ungodly hour. Gianna had kept Lucia up all night, and despite the lack of sleep, she had still noticed or caught on to me being off this morning.

“Okay,” I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m a little stressed. Today’s points are huge. I need to win.”

“You will,” she said with a quiet conviction that knocked the air out of me. She spoke it as if it were a fact, not a possibility.

Before I could respond, she reached into her purse and pulled out a small bundle of notecards bound together with a thin ribbon. “This might be silly, but Gianna and I do affirmations every morning. They help us on hard days, and…well, I made some for you.”

For a moment, I was speechless, staring at the cards she held out to me. The thoughtfulness of it, the effort she had put into this, hit me like a freight train. My throat tightened.

“Luce…” I murmured, taking the cards gingerly, as if they might break under my touch. “This is so nice.”

Her lips quirked up in a small, self-conscious smile. “I know you’re in prep mode, but maybe read them. It might help.”

Before I could thank her properly, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around my middle, surprising me. Her hug was firm, grounding, and it left me reeling. My arms found their way around her, pulling her closer. The fire in my veins, the one that usually came from adrenaline, shifted into something else entirely. Something more electric.

She pulled back after a moment, her cheeks pink. “Good luck, Alex,” she said softly before disappearing down the hall, leaving me clutching the cards and feeling more alive than I had all morning.

By the time I lowered myself into the cockpit of my car, the affirmations were etched into my mind. Each one played in my head like a mantra, weaving through the noise of the crowd and the mechanics’ chatter.

Radio checks crackled through my earpiece. “You good to go, Wright?” my race engineer asked.

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, my pulse steady now, thinking of those affirmation cards from Lucia.

I am stronger than I know

I am as calm as the sea

I am prepared and aware

“Let’s do this.”

As the engines roared to life and the grid cleared, I couldn’t see them, but I knew Lucia and Gianna were watching from the Belen garage today. Lucia had taken to switching between the Moretti garage to support her brother, and Belen’s. Sure, it was to keep up the ruse, but it was also nice to have someone here for me, someone I knew in the crowd cheering me on.

My thoughts cleared as I watched the red lights go out.

And away we go.