Page 100 of Knot So Lucky

"Because he's an entitled piece of shit with family connections and lawyers who made the transfer happen before anyone could file formal complaints," Richard says bluntly. "And proving he drugged Roran would require evidence we don't have time to gather before the legal window closes."

Aurora rolls her eyes, the gesture so perfectly capturing her frustration that I almost smile despite everything.

"How lovely," she says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "So he poisons my brother, nearly kills him, and gets rewarded with a better team placement. Great system we've got here."

"Welcome to professional racing," Richard mutters.

"Then what?" Aurora asks, visibly trying to stay focused on logistics rather than spiraling into rage. "Does that mean Roran has to be on our team, too? With me and Cale, and apparently Luca Thorne?"

The way she says Thorne's name—with particular emphasis that suggests complicated feelings about being partnered with the Alpha she just beat—makes something protective flare in my chest.

Richard's frown deepens, and both Aurora and I immediately tense.

"What?" we demand in unison.

"Rorancouldbe on your team," Richard says carefully, choosing each word like he's navigating a minefield. "But this means he might be shelved."

Aurora's entire body goes rigid.

"What do you mean, shelved?"

Richard leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his face like he's praying for patience.

"Four drivers on one team never fucking works," he explains. "It's a logistical nightmare and a competitive disaster. And with them bringing back the Omega clause specifically..."

He trails off, but I can already see where this is going.

The pieces click together in my mind with devastating clarity, and I find myself breaking it down before Richard can soften the blow.

"That means Aurora has to be in every race," I say slowly, watching Aurora's face for her reaction. "Because she's our only Omega, and the regulations require Omega participation. Which means the driving schedule would rotate between me, Luca, and Roran."

I pause, doing the math that we're all avoiding.

"And I have the fastest speed records. But Luca has the best overall track performance and championship history."

Aurora's face goes pale as understanding dawns.

"Meaning competitively," she whispers, voice barely audible, "Roran would be sitting out most races."

The silence that follows is heavy enough to crush bones.

Because that's the ugly truth none of us wants to acknowledge. In a four-driver team with mandatory Omega participation and two Alpha drivers who are objectively better than Roran in different metrics, my best friend—Aurora's twin brother—becomes the weak link.

The one who gets benched while the rest of us compete for glory.

Richard breaks the silence with the reluctance of someone delivering a terminal diagnosis.

"I could trade Roran," he offers quietly. "To a different team. Axel Creed's operation reached out this morning."

Aurora and I exchange blank looks.

"Never heard of him," I admit.

"That's because they're not participating in this Formula One season," Richard explains. "They're building for next year's league. Which would give Roran time to get used to their mechanics, work with their engineers, and help them secure an Omega for their roster before competition starts."

He spreads his hands on his desk, studying the grain of the wood like it contains answers.

"It would also mean he's not sitting on the bench watching his sister and his best friend race without him. Give him a chance to build something from the ground up instead of being the fourth wheel on a team designed for three."