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27

ALEXANDER

T he buzz of the post-race celebrations was still palpable as I stepped off the podium, the roar of the crowd and the taste of champagne lingering in my veins. My racing suit clung to me, sticky from the celebratory spray, but I didn’t care. Every muscle in my body hummed with the high of the win, the championship lead solidified. The garage was a whirlwind of noise and movement as I ducked back inside, greeted by cheers, pats on the back, and the occasional shouted congratulations.

Paul was waiting near the edge of the chaos, his arms crossed and a knowing smile on his face. He stepped forward, clapping a hand on my shoulder with a firm grip.

“Better keep an eye on your inbox,” he said, his voice low enough to be private. “A contract will be rolling through soon. I’ve had some words with the rest of management.” He leaned in slightly, his tone dipping conspiratorially. “I’m in your corner, Wright.”

The meeting he mentioned, the one where my future with Belen Racing had been thrown into question, felt like a distant memory amid the euphoria of today.

“Thank you,” I said, meeting his gaze. “I really appreciate it.”

Paul’s expression softened, he nodded past me, toward the edge of the crowd where Lucia stood, Gianna perched on her hip.

“You and your girl,” he said, his voice carrying a warmth that caught me off guard. “I had a love like that once. You hold onto it.”

My chest tightened as I followed his gaze. Lucia was laughing at something one of the crew had said, her head tilting back slightly, the lights catching the loose strands of her hair. Gianna was chattering animatedly, her tiny hand clutching Lucia’s necklace as she pointed at something. They stood out in the sea of red and black, like they didn’t quite belong—and yet, they were the only thing that mattered in the room.

“She’s—” I started to deflect, but the words caught in my throat. She was mine. Not in any official way, not yet, but in every way that counted, Lucia and Gianna were mine.

Paul gave me a knowing look and patted my shoulder before walking off, leaving me standing there, champagne-sticky and utterly undone. I let out a breath, running a hand through my damp hair, and turned back toward them.

The noise of the garage faded as I crossed the floor, weaving through the team until I reached them. Gianna spotted me first, her face lighting up like I’d brought the sun in with me.

“Alex!” she squealed, reaching out with both arms.

Lucia’s smile was softer, but it carried the same warmth. Her eyes met mine, and the pride there was so palpable, it washed over me like a second victory.

“Hey,” she said softly. “Congratulations.”

As Gianna practically launched herself into my arms, and Lucia’s hand brushed mine in the exchange, Paul’s words echoed in my mind.

You hold onto that.

I wasn’t letting go.

I wanted this.

For real.

But first I needed to talk to Matteo.

* * *

We headed back to the hotel to clean up after the race, and Matteo was practically vibrating with excitement. He was already talking about hitting the town, as if the energy from the track had followed him right to the elevator. Anna, bless her, had happily agreed to stay with Gianna so the three of us—Matteo, Lucia, and I—could go out tonight with Nicola and some of the other drivers. The anticipation was electric, even if part of me felt like I was walking a tightrope between exhilaration and something far more nerve racking.

I knocked on Matteo’s door, and he yanked it open with a grin so wide I was momentarily blinded.

“Hey, man,” he said, practically dragging me inside. “Help me with this outfit, would you? I can’t decide, and you know I’ve gotta look sharp if I’m gonna be the life of the party. Which I obviously am.”

I stepped into the chaos of his room, clothes flung over every available surface like a hurricane had passed through. Matteo was already rifling through a pile of jackets, half talking to himself and half ranting about the race. His sentences overlapped in a way that made no sense unless you were fluent in Matteo-ese.

“First of all,” I said, holding up a pair of bright sneakers he’d apparently considered wearing, “what the fuck are those?”

Matteo rolled his eyes but tossed the offending shoes aside, letting me dig through his stuff to find something more presentable. Eventually, I found him an outfit suitable for a night out. “Here. You’ll look like you’ve got your life together, even if we both know that’s a lie.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said dryly, sitting on the edge of the bed to lace up his, much better, shoes.

As he tied the last knot, he glanced up at me, tilting his head like a curious puppy. “What’s up with you? You look…weird.”

I snorted. “Weird how?”

“Weird like you’ve got something on your mind. Spill it, Wright. You know you can talk to me, right?”

I hesitated, my heart picking up speed. Then I decided to throw caution—and maybe a little bit of sanity—to the wind. “It’s…complicated.”

“Complicated how?” he pressed, his tone shifting from playful to cautious.

I avoided his gaze, suddenly finding the carpet way too interesting. “It’s about Lucia.”

Matteo’s eyebrows shot up, and he froze mid-movement. “Lucia?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, exhaling sharply. “This whole fake-dating thing?—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Matteo cut me off, holding up both hands like a traffic cop. “You’re not telling me it’s going sideways, are you? Because if this blows up and my sister gets hurt?—”

“It’s not going sideways,” I interrupted firmly. “She’s amazing at this. Honestly, better at it than I am.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Matteo asked, his protectiveness melting into genuine curiosity.

I raked a hand through my hair, feeling the tension coiled in my chest. “The problem is…it doesn’t feel fake anymore. At least not for me.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Matteo let out a low whistle. “Oh, man. You are so screwed.”

“Thanks for the support,” I said dryly, glaring at him.

“Hey, I told you this might happen,” he said, smirking now. “You’re fake dating my sister, Alex. Did you think you’d come out of this unscathed?”

“I didn’t expect this,” I admitted, gesturing helplessly. “I can’t stop thinking about her, Matteo. She’s in my head, and it’s…it’s messing me up.”

Matteo leaned back, crossing his arms as he studied me. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly, the weight of it pressing on my chest. “This was supposed to be a PR stunt, not?—”

“Not you catching feelings,” Matteo finished, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “Look, Alex, I love you, man. But if you hurt her, I will kill you. And not in a ha-ha, best friends forever kind of way. I mean in the they’ll never find the body kind of way.”

I laughed nervously, but his expression didn’t budge. “Noted.”

“Good.” Matteo’s tone softened slightly. “For what it’s worth, you two kinda work. Just don’t screw it up.”

“I don’t plan to,” I said quietly, the words carrying more weight than I expected.

Matteo clapped me on the shoulder, but his smirk returned. “So, what’s the plan, loverboy?”

I hesitated, then shrugged. “I told myself if I won today, I’d tell her.”

“Well, you won,” Matteo said, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “So?”

“So…now I tell her.”

“What could go wrong?” Matteo threw his hands in the air with a laugh, but there was a flicker of seriousness behind it.

Everything . Everything could go wrong. But as her laugh echoed in my head and the memory of her smile burned bright, I knew I couldn’t keep this to myself any longer.

* * *

We met the girls in the hotel lobby, and Matteo wasted no time diving into his usual antics. He immediately started flirting with Nicola, who rolled her eyes and shot back a sarcastic remark about him only managing fifth place today.

Lucia glanced at her brother and Nicola, then back at me, her brows lifted in curiosity. “So…” she said, dragging the word out as she wagged her eyebrows. “That’s new.”

“I don’t even want to know,” I replied, shaking my head. “They give me whiplash. One minute they’re bickering, the next Matteo’s shamelessly flirting, and Nicola’s roasting him like it’s her favorite sport. Pretty sure it only makes him like her more, though.” I shrugged. “Who knows where that’s going.”

Lucia’s lips curved into a knowing smirk, but I couldn’t focus on whatever she was about to say because—damn—she looked incredible . She was wearing a short, deep red, satin dress that melted against her curves and put her long legs on display, and I was definitely staring. But seriously, could anyone blame me? Lucia DeLuca was a knockout.

“You like?” she asked, spinning in a little circle with a playful grin.

“I love,” I said without hesitation, a lazy smile tugging at my lips.

Her cheeks flushed pink as she gently nudged my shoulder. “You look nice too…I guess,” she teased, her smirk softening the jab.

“Damn right,” I shot back with a laugh, holding out my hand. When she took it, lacing her fingers with mine, my heart rate spiked like I’d just been called into the final lap of a race.

We were just stepping outside to the valet when Matteo piped up. “I, uh, accidentally called my own car. Guess we’ll just meet you there,” he announced, a little too casually, as two sleek black town cars pulled up.

“Accidentally?” I deadpanned.

He grinned like the cat that caught the canary, mouthing, Good luck.

Once we were alone in the backseat of the town car, I turned to Lucia, feeling my pulse quicken again. “I was actually hoping to talk to you about something,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady and not sound like a total idiot.

She looked at me with curious, open eyes, her lips parting slightly as she waited. And that’s when I noticed her lips, glossy and red, glinting under the dim interior light. My train of thought completely derailed, leaving me sitting there like a guy who’d just forgotten how to form coherent words.

“Okay…” she prompted, her voice soft but tinged with amusement as she gave me an encouraging smile.

“The kiss,” I blurted.

The second the words left my mouth, her cheeks turned pink, and she glanced down at her hands, fiddling with her fingers.

“It was—but I also wanted to check in, since we haven’t kissed in front of Gianna before and…”

She met my eyes again, her expression unreadable but her cheeks still warm. My stomach flipped. This was my moment, my chance to say something?—

The car jerked slightly as it pulled to an unexpected stop.

“What the hell?” I glanced out the window, confused.

“Apologies, sir,” the driver called from the front seat. “We’ve got a flat. The other car is stopping to take you the rest of the way.”

Of course.

Of course, this would happen.

I closed my eyes briefly, muttering a curse under my breath as Lucia bit back a laugh. “Guess we’re carpooling,” she said.