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“I have better things to do than follow around a liar and a cheater,” Anthony quipped. He was dangerously close to me, and I looked around the paddock, hoping someone I knew would notice the two of us.
“That’s rich coming from you.”
“You think you’re so special, don’t you,” Anthony bit out, his voice venomous. “We both know you slept your way into this. Although I’m not sure what Luca is getting out of it, you’re pretty lousy in bed.” Anthony grabbed my arm tighter as he pulled me closer to him. I tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong.
“Let go, asshole!”
“I’m going to get a seat in F1, and then I’m going to crucify you since apparently the press aren’t doing a good enough job at it.” Before I could respond, I heard a deep voice behind me, the Italian accent undeniable.
“I believe the lady said let go.” Luca grabbed Anthony by the collar and pulled him in. Anthony let go of my arm at the contact with Luca. Edward was with Luca, trying to block the sight of Luca holding Anthony’s collar from the growing crowd.
“Touch her again, and I’ll ruin that ugly face of yours,” Luca spit out.
“He’s not worth it,” I whispered the Luca, encouraging him to set Anthony down. I could see Luca debating what to do, the wheels in his head turning. I knew every ounce of him wanted to punch Anthony, but with the crowd getting bigger, Luca put the Indy Car driver down and backed away.
“Edward, take this piece of trash back to Wilmington, eh?” Edward let out a snicker and motioned for Anthony to follow him, not even looking back.
As Anthony walked by, Luca leaned over and whispered to him, “Women aren’t lousy in bed if a man knows how to make them scream, and oh boy, is Georgia a screamer.” Luca winked at Anthony and patted him on the back as he watched the Indy Car driver run after Edward like a dog with its tail between its legs.
“You okay, Amore? I should have walked you all the way in. I’m sorry.” Luca had the cutest apologetic face. His plump lips were giving me the most adorable pout, and his eyes were soft as he observed my face.
“Better now that you’re here,” I said with a chuckle. “Thanks for that. I really hope Anthony fails that Wilmington F1 test.”
“Well, unfortunately for Anthony, money can’t buy him talent.” I chuckled at Luca’s comment, although I knew in my mind that Anthony had enough money to buy him a seat – regardless of talent.
“Georgia!” I saw Mel running towards me, waving her hands. “You plan on racing today or what?”
“Sorry, Mel!” Luca smiled at me and gave me another hug before I ran off, waving back to him.
“See you on the podium, Mon Amour!” I yelled back at him.
* * *
‘And it’s lights out, and away we go!’
As soon as the five lights lit up, I launched my car forward, immediately passing Oscar Parker, who had qualified ahead of me in P4. I was annoyed that I had gotten P5 yesterday, but sadly the car had an issue in qualifying, so I couldn’t finish my last flying lap which I knew would have put me on pole.
I made it around the first corner, and I was starting to feel more secure in my position. Oscar had fallen back, leaving only Henri, Luca, and Noah in front of me. We stayed in this position for the next thirty laps before I was able to pass Noah after a poor pit stop from his team, a rare sight from his garage but one I planned to take advantage of.
“Good news, GG. Keep up the pace. You probably would have passed him anyway,” I heard Mel say into the radio.
“Yup.”
“Hermes cars are pushing, very good pace. Luca gained half a second.”
I didn’t need Mel in my ear to tell me that. Luca was in front, and I could see that his pace was just slightly quicker than mine, although I was only two seconds behind him. We settled into this for another twenty laps, Luca and I keeping an annoying two-second gap between us.
“And the press thinks he just lets me pass,” I grumbled to myself.
Quite the opposite, I’ll never hear the end of it if I can’t pass him on my own.
“Lap fifty, only twenty-one to go.” Suddenly I started to smell something burning, and I desperately looked around for the source.
“Mel, something is burning.”
“Keep driving, it’s not you.” Her voice was calm, but there was something in it, a small uptake in her pitch that told me she was hiding something. But as I watched Luca's car slide off into the gravel, I saw what she wasn’t telling me. The smoke I was smelling was from Luca's car, and it was on fire. I could see Luca navigate it off the track, and in my rearview mirrors I saw the car start to go downhill, the flames getting bigger and bigger.
“Fuck, Mel. It’s fucking Luca!” I screamed into the radio.
