Chapter 187
CHARLOTTE-
Monaco did not sound like a race. It sounded like a city being torn open.
The cars hit Sainte-Dévote in a wall of noise.
Luca’s car flashed between the barriers.
Marco stayed tight behind it.
Nico was currently leading.
I stood on the Rosso pit wall with a headset that did nothing to stop my heart from racing.
Marco and Luca were stacked behind Nico, with no room for anyone else.
Every gear change could be heard. Every brake zone made the grandstand hold its breath.
མག
5 voucher
I was filled with a mix of excitement and anxiety, just as I always felt when Luca was in the car. My heart raced with anticipation, yet a part of me worried for his safety as he navigated the race track. I knew he was determined to win, but sometimes Luca could push himself too hard, driven by an intense desire for that first-place finish.
He was constantly trying to prove something to himself-his worth.
His father believed Luca was destined for the family business, but Luca yearned to forge his own path, even if it meant risking everything with his family. That’s why he stayed far. They didn’t support his Fl dreams. That’s part of the reason why I dropped everything to help him. To show him that he had me. He had my support.
Nico stretched the lead by a breath. The timing screen blinked and I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.
Luca was catching up to him.
Then the radio went sharp.
Blister. Rear left. Not safe.
No. Not now. Please no.
“Box this lap,” the engineer said.
Luca’s voice came back tight. “Copy.”
I watched him pull in. Frustration was all over the way he stopped-too abrupt, gloves flexing on the wheel. The crew moved as quickly as they could, trained for moments like this. Jack. Guns. Four tires.
He looked over at me and my heart skipped a beat for some reason. It almost felt like he was thinking about me despite it being the middle of the race.
That was stupid. Why would he be thinking about me?
13
25
O
G
<
|||
12:25 Fri, Sep 25
The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife
5 vouchers
Through the visor I should not have been able to find his eyes. I did. The look hit me in the chest, angry and alive and aimed at me like I was the one thing in the garage that was not a problem.
My heart skipped. For a second the blister and the gap and the car did not exist. There was only that look, and the stupid thought that he had come in looking for me.
Then the car dropped and he was gone, following the other cars that had not waited. He was now at a disadvantage.
“Come on,” I whispered. “You can do it!”
Catch-up in Monaco was difficult. It would take a lot of skill and effort and even luck.
Winning mattered to him the way breathing did. Last race he had not taken first. He had flown here hungry. He wanted this and I wanted that for him. I wished there was a way for me to help in some way.
Lap by lap the gap came down. He was doing well despite the setback.
The crowd noise changed pitch when Luca’s red car appeared on the main straight again, closer, closer.
Marco’s silver car was a moving wall. Luca went for him at the hairpin with a move that made the Rosso garage swear as one.
I screamed when he made it.
Passed Marco.
That was so freaking beautiful I almost cried.
Last lap.
“Come on!” I screamed. “You can do it, Luca! Kick his ass!”
Nico was ahead in navy. The screen said the gap was nothing and everything. I stood on the wall and forgot how to stand still.
“Come on,” I whispered again. Then I was not whispering.
He caught Nico in the last few seconds, something that was nearly impossible to do. Not many could do what he’d just done. The crowd went into an uproar in response. The sound was beautiful.
Luca was in front now. He kept going. The line. The flag.
The crowd screamed.
The garage joined in.
He’d done it.
HE’D DONE IT!
Someone hugged me hard enough to lift my feet. I hugged them back. Mechanics, comms, a physio crying into a radio.
2/3
25
O
OG O
|||
O
12:25 Fri, Sep 25 1 TF.
The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife
Rosso Corse did not do quiet joy. They did cries, shouts, arms around whoever was nearest, red everywhere.
I could not believe it.
He had won.
Luca Vescari. Monaco. First place.
5 vouchers
I was still shaking when the car pulled into parc fermé and he climbed out into noise that belonged to him
now.
Helmet off. Hair wrecked. That grin that could make my insides melt.
He looked for me over the chaos.
I was already moving.
AD
Comment
Send gift
Dex Morgan
Dex works to elevate each story with clean writing, emotional balance, and thoughtful flow for readers.