I’d been fighting for someone who didn't want to be saved, and worse, someone who had already decided I was temporary.
That was the part that stung the most. He’d thrown my departure in my face like an inevitability, and it wasn't until that moment that I realized recently I’d stopped planning for it. Somewhere between the late nights and the quiet moments, I’d stopped telling myself this was just a stop on the way to somewhere else. I’d started to build something here, only to realize I was the only one standing on the foundation.
Chapter twenty-two
Dominic
The door doesn't just close behind her; it echoes. The heavy boom rattles through the garage, vibrating in my teeth.
I don’t look up. I can’t. If I look up and see the space where she was just standing—where she looked at me with those eyes that seemed to see right through the fast cars and the branding—I’m going to lose my mind.
My chest is tight, my lungs burning as if I’ve just pulled a triple stint in the Singapore heat.I care because it’s you.
The words are a sickness. A lie. They have to be.
I pick up a torque wrench, my fingers cramping around the handle. My hand is steady now. The tremor is gone, scared back by the sheer force of my adrenaline. That’s the irony of it—the rage is the only thing that is actually making me feel functional.
I’d brought her to see my mother today. I’d never done that before. Not with anyone.
It was a mistake. A momentary lapse in judgment fueled by my stupidness. I don’t care about Carter Hayes. I can’t. To care about her is to admit that there’s a version of my life where I’m not just a driver—and that version is a fantasy. A lie.
"She looked like she was ready to set the hedges on fire."
The voice comes from near the door. When had he come in? I don't flinch. I don't even pause the useless tensioning of a bolt that’s already tight.
Luka.
"Should I be worried?" he asks, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he nears the center of the garage. "Because Carter just charged past the house looking like she wanted to punch a hole through some drywall."
"No," I mutter. "She’s just temperamental. You know how the Hayes family is. High drama, low stakes."
I can feel Luka’s stare. It’s heavy. Identical to mine, but without the rot.
"Is that right?" Luka’s voice is deceptively casual. He shifts his footing before crossing his arms. "Because I called Mom earlier. She spent twenty minutes telling me how you brought Carter by the facility today. How she took you both with her in the garden. How you looked... not like yourself."
"Mom is a romantic. She sees what she wants to see. There’s nothing to explain."
Luka steps into the light of the workbench. His expression isn't his usual smirk. It’s guarded. Protective. "Look, Dom. I like Carter. I like hera lot. She’s got more spine than any girl you’ve dragged through here in the last five years for a weekend of fun. She’s real."
Don't I know it,I think, the thought bitter as gall.
"But I know you," Luka continues, his voice hardening. "I know how you operate. You find something that interests you, you use it until the novelty wears off, and then you forget it ever existed. But Carter isn't a novelty. She’s... different. I actually care what she thinks of me. And I’m not going to sit back and watch you try and tempt her just to treat her like another spare part you can toss aside when you're frustrated."
I finally stop, the wrench clicking as I turn to face him. I let a slow, mocking smile pull at my mouth, hiding the bitter surge of adrenaline in my throat. If only he knew. If he had any idea how far past "temptation" we already were, he’d probably kill me.
"Is that what this is?" I ask, my voice dripping with merciless condescension. "The loyal Valerio finally found a spine because he’s got a crush on the coach's daughter?"
Luka presses his teeth together once, but he doesn't flinch. For the first time in our lives, he doesn't look like the younger brother waiting for permission.
"I’m serious, Dom. I'm asking you as your brother. Is there something going on? Because I can tell she’s getting to you, and that’s not something I see often. I’m telling you now—don’t start something with her just because you're bored. She deserves more than being your latest distraction."
"You see what you want to see, Luka. You always have." I lean back against the bench, crossing my arms, my eyes raking over him. He’s looking for a spark, a hint of the truth, but I give him nothing. "But let’s be honest. You’re only standing here because you want her for yourself. You think you’re the hero in this story, don't you? The nice guy waiting in the wings.”
Luka doesn't look away. "I think she deserves someone who isn't looking for an exit strategy before he even starts. And yeah, I want her.”
The weight of his admission hits me with a blunt, sickening force. It’s the truth, I can see it—and it’s devastating. He’sstanding his ground for her. He’s offering her a version of himself I can’t provide: one that’s stable, whole, and actually capable of looking toward a future.
"So I’m going to ask you one more time," Luka says, his voice a low, steady rumble that demands an answer. "Is there something going on? Because if you just want to mess with her, then stay the hell out of her way."
