It’s in very poor taste to bring up another team’s business like that, especially at an official Formula 1 media event designed to be surface-level fun.
Murmurs rise around the room. I swear the entirety of the media cohort shifts closer, desperate for him to keep stirring the pot.
And stir, he does.
With a cruel chuckle, he continues. “I’d wager that Evangeline is closer with him than I am. The two of them look chummy over there together, don’t they?”
Dozens of eyes bore into me with renewed interest. My cheeks flame, signaling that they’re likely bright red, the reaction humiliating me further. I bite hard on the inside of my cheek, staving off the angry tears threatening to spill out.
The urge to run claws at my chest and clogs my throat. I don’t want to be here. It takes everything in me to maintain my composure and stay seated, my face neutral.
When I’m sure I’m not going to cry, I lift my gaze and glare at my ex.
He’s already watching me, his expression callus.
I hate him. I hate him so much.
Alaric clears his throat, shifting to the edge of the couch. “What my son means to say?—”
“I said what I said,” Luca grits out. “I have no interest in pretending we’re best buds or that you’re a doting father, Ric. Our teams compete on the grid, and that’s all we have in common. Allegedly,” he adds with a wicked smirk, his focus on me.
“It seems that’s all we have time for today, folks,” the moderator announces.
Cameras flash and the reporters murmur among themselves, but it’s all drowned out by the whooshing in my ears.
Luca is first to rise, storming off stage without uttering another word the moment the media has been ushered out.
The rest of us sit stock-still, stunned by his outburst.
Alaric stands slowly, then turns around and holds out his hand.
With an imperceptible shake of my head, I reject the offer.
The gesture is innocent enough, but I refuse to give any credence to Luca’s hurtful claims.
Thankfully, Kenji shoulders past Alaric, eager to come to my aid, and yanks me to my feet. “What the actual fuck was that?” he hisses.
Ren stands at my other side, the two of them flanking me. “That boy is out of his goddamn mind. Just wait until Saint hears about this.”
I’m slow to react, but I dutifully let the siblings guide me off stage. Still reeling, I peek over my shoulder at Alaric. He’s keenly focused on where Kenji’s hand rests on my low back. Thankfully, his earlier glowers have been replaced by grateful tolerance. We both know he can’t be the one at my side right now.
“I’m going to find my son,” he calls out casually, disappointment dripping from him. “I’ll see you back at the motorhome.”
CHAPTER 49
ALARIC
Istorm off stage, ignoring everyone who attempts to talk to me. There’s only one person I’m interested in speaking with right now, and like a coward, he’s taken off. I have tunnel vision as I wind through the corridor, stalking toward the exit.
My every cell screams at me to check on Evangeline, to go back and support her in any way I can.
But that’s not an option.
Not here. Not like this.
At least she’s with her friends. I don’t know them well, but every person on that stage was visibly outraged by Luca’s outlandish comments, and they were quick to come to her aid.
They’ve got her for now. I have to trust that. Tonight, after I deal with the ripple effect of the bullshit Luca just unleashed, she’ll be back in my arms and I can take care of her properly.
