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CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

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RACING RATINGS UP FROM PREVIOUS SEASONS

New data shows that the audience for racing is up. Across the board, but also specifically with the female audience. With an almost twenty-five percent increase in female viewership for the sport—in all racing categories, not just Formula 1—it’s safe to say the sport is paying attention.

A staunch portion of the male viewership insists the changes damage the sport. So whether the sport itself accepts or denies the new reality remains unclear. It’s hard to deny the economic power of a new audience, complete with merchandise and sponsorship. However, it wouldn’t be the first time sports bowed to tradition instead of progress in favor of the status quo.

Much of the bump is attributed to Paragon Racing’s choice to hire a female driver, Vanessa Lennon, currently in fourth place in the Drivers Championship. Time will tell if more teams choose to embrace what seems like an obvious diversification of the sport, but as far as the data goes, it seems like they’d be foolish not to.

“Congratulations.” James Robertson lifted his glass of champagne towards me. “Truly.”

“Thank you.”

He turned to River with a knowing smirk I wasn’t used to from the team’s owner. “I suppose I better start preparing for your contract demands?”

River stretched his arm across the back of my chair and gave nothing away with his expression. “I still have a year on my contract, as you know.”

James waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry. I’m still thinking about it.”

“Good.”

The seven of us sat in the fanciest restaurant I’d ever been to. There was nice food, there was the food you could splurge on occasionally, and then there was this.

The decor was warm and subtle, everything sleek and modern except for the chandeliers, which looked like cascades of falling crystals. Elias had immediately compared me to them, since my dress was silver, sparkly, and had a neckline that plunged about as much as the chandeliers. Not to mention the artful panels of sheerness that exposed a little skin here and there.

After a couple of luxurious days in that hotel penthouse, James had reached out and asked to take all of us out to dinner to congratulate us on our bonding. We’d said yes and hopped on a plane to Britannia.

It was the most relaxed I’d ever experienced James, and Reece, his husband, was lovely. There hadn’t been much time to speak to him at the Paragon Gala.

The dinner had been lovely, easy, and fun. But I couldn’t help the feeling there was something more under the surface waiting to ambush us. It felt too simple, and yet I didn’t want to think James was lying.

Soothing calm spread through my chest, rich, perfumed and filled with smoke. My eyes found Beck’s across the table, and he smiled. He’d felt my anxiety and reached out to soothe me. I still wasn’t used to it, and every time I realized I could feel them, happiness flooded my system.

“James,” Beck said. “Thank you for this. It’s been nice.”

The man laughed and mirrored River’s pose with his arm across the back of Reece’s chair. “I hear some kind of disagreement.”

“Not at all,” Beck said. “Just wondering if there was anything else you wanted to talk to us about, other than the obvious.”

Reece looked over at James and laughed. “I told you.”

Rolling his eyes, James shifted in his seat, took out his wallet and handed a couple of bills to his husband. Then he scanned all of us. “Reece bet me that you wouldn’t believe all I wanted was to congratulate you with no ulterior motive.”

Grayson shook his head with a smile. “I think ulterior motive is a bit much. But can you blame them?”

“I suppose not.” James shrugged before leaning over to kiss Reece briefly. “For once, there is nothing else. I promise. And I know I didn’t react well to your relationship immediately, but I have no complaints about how you’ve behaved as a unit professionally, and this is something that doesn’t happen very often.” He looked at me. “I’m also sorry for your loss.”

I nodded, accepting the flare of pain behind my sternum that appeared whenever someone mentioned grandpa. It was a tight feeling in my chest. Like when you swallowed something too big and your body told you it was wrong.

In this case, what I’d swallowed was grief.

“But,” James continued. “This really is for congratulations.”

Reece leaned closer to James and looked at me. “You’re getting used to it? The bond?”

“It’s overwhelming,” I admitted. “In a good way.”

“I have my hands full with just one.” He jerked a thumb at James. “I can’t imagine having four.”

“They’ll just have to take mercy on me.”

River leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Never.”

On my other side, Elias was quiet. He kept glancing around the restaurant. Not obviously enough to attract attention, but I saw it. And I felt the bursts of anxiety.

Grayson asked James a question, pulling the conversation away from us, and I placed a hand on his knee under the table. “You okay?”

“Yup.”

“Is this somewhere your family comes?”

In the corner of my eye, I saw him swallow. “Sometimes, yeah.” Then he shook his head. “Not that it matters.”

I took his hand and held it. There wasn’t much to say. Even on the off chance that his parents entered the restaurant, they were allergic to causing scenes. They wouldn’t force themselves on Elias. But I hoped he wouldn’t have to see them. His was a different kind of grief, but grief all the same. “I’d like to meet your brother sometime.”

Elias glanced at me, allowing a faint smile to appear. I loved being able to feel his appreciation for trying, even if it didn’t make him feel better. “Sometime.”

“I love you.”

All he did was lift our hands together and press a kiss to the inside of my wrist. The words rang silently in the space between us.

“Surely you think you have it locked up,” Reece said as I tuned back to the central conversation.

“No.” River shook his head and James winced. “I don’t. I wish I did. But these last few races, the standings are close enough that things could shift.” His hand moved to my shoulder, squeezing gently, like he was bracing me, his face light in spite of it. “Hell, if things go terribly for me there could even be a Paragon champion.”

Ah. If Paragon was going to win the Drivers Championship this year it wouldn’t be me. I was too far behind. If that happened, losing to Lars would be so much more painful than losing to River, and he knew it.

River turned his free hand and rapped his knuckles on the table, knocking on wood. “But the races are going to go perfectly, so keep dreaming of that title.”

We all laughed.

The bonds in my chest all tensed at the same time, River’s hand tightening on my shoulder. A second later I saw why. Lars approached the table with a beautiful blonde woman on his arm and a disarming smile on his face that I didn’t believe for a second.

He smiled at us, his eyes dead. “This is a surprise.”

“Surprise my ass,” Elias muttered under his breath.

I believed in coincidences. This wasn’t one. You didn’t come to this restaurant without being noticed, and though we were well insulated, I was aware of the interest in us. There was no doubt it had already been reported where we were, and since we’d nearly finished eating, there was more than enough time for Lars to get here.

Though why he was here in Britannia at all, I wasn’t sure.

James stood and shook his hand. “Good to see you, Lars.”

“Did I miss an invitation?”

“Just wishing Pack De Clare congratulations on their bonding. No business tonight.” He extended his hand to Lars’s date. “James Robertson. It’s nice to meet you. I own Paragon Racing.”

She smiled. “Marissa. Nice to meet you.”

I leaned into River’s hold. “How the hell do we get out of this?”

“Let James and Grayson handle it.” His voice was so quiet that his lips barely moved. “They understand.”

Lars turned to us, that fake smile still bright. “I suppose I do owe you congratulations.” He nodded once at me, barely looking. It might have been the nicest interaction we’d ever had.

“Have you been seated?” James asked.

Marissa nodded. “We’re on our way.”

“Let me walk you to your table,” James held out an arm in the direction the server waited. When Lars turned the lead the way, James threw a meaningful glance in our direction.

“Time we left,” Grayson said. “Need rest for travel and all that.”

“Of course.” Reese stood and buttoned his suit jacket. “I’m sure I’ll see you all soon.”

“Sorry.” I whispered as we passed, River guiding me with a hand low on my back.

Reece snorted and shook his head. “Don’t worry, I get it. I’m not a fan. I’ll see you later.”

I slumped back against the seat once we were in the car. “I don’t like that we were chased out by him.”

“We weren’t,” Grayson said. “He wasn’t on the list tonight. Yes, we checked. Not for him specifically. We always check.”

“Figures. But still. He didn’t try to sit with us.”

A firm yank on our bond had me looking at him, and Grayson’s face left no room for argument. “Don’t soften it. Don’t defend him. He’s been unreasonable and an asshole the entire season, and I am unwilling to have you closer than necessary. James knows that.”

I frowned, feeling the deeper concern from all of them. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Beck sighed. “No, love. There’s nothing you don’t know. But we’re all aware that we still don’t know who fucked with your tyres. And Lars is one of the few who’s willing to openly hate you.”

“Yeah.” I glanced at Grayson. “I’m not defending him, but hating me doesn’t exactly mean much.”

He smiled. “Humor me, little one. If not for your interactions with him, then for mine.”

His bond walked the line of wild possessiveness and instinct, and I got it. The conflict between being a professional and being my Alpha was harder than he’d let on, and he didn’t want to end up punching Lars in the face over anything he might have tried to cause a scene.

“Okay.” I kicked off the heels I’d worn, abandoning them on the floor of the car and tucking my feet up. “I’m not complaining. Not like I want to see him anyway.”

The silence in the car was telling, and no one broke it. Contract negotiations were still going, and Grayson couldn’t talk about them. But it would be hard to let Lars go simply because he didn’t like me. He was a good racer, even if he was a twat.

“You all owe me dessert,” I said as we pulled up to our building. My shoes dangled from my hand.

“Do I get to eat it off you?” River asked. He punched the button in the elevator.

“That depends.” I batted my eyelashes.

“On?”

I thought while we ascended, all of them laughing silently through the bond. I waited almost all the way. “If you can beat me.”

“Do I need to remind you of our points?” He crowded close.

“I still kick your ass in the sim, baby .”

That wicked smirk appeared. “You want me to beat you to the theater room or in the race itself?”

I shrugged. The elevator chimed and opened on our floor. “Both.”

Then I took off running, and a cacophony of footsteps chased after me.