Chapter 1

The Miami heat hit me like a wall when I climbed out of the test car, my racing suit still damp with sweat. The engine's roar died away, leaving only the sound of scattered applause from the crew gathered around the track.

"Val, this lap time is insane! Three seconds faster than last month's record!" Marcus, our head technician, practically bounced on his feet as he waved the timing sheet. "You just smashed every benchmark we had."

I pulled off my helmet, letting my hair fall loose.

This is it. This is the moment that changes everything.

The adrenaline was still coursing through my veins, making my hands shake slightly. After months of grinding through technical tests and proving myself over and over, I'd finally broken through.

"Not bad for a Tuesday afternoon," I said, trying to keep the grin off my face.

But hell, I was proud. Three years of fighting for every ounce of respect in this industry, and today I'd shown them all what I could really do.

That's when I heard the slow clap behind me.

"Impressive." Tyler's voice cut through my moment like a blade. "Really impressive for a... well, you know. Women drivers have their limitations, but this wasn't bad."

The familiar rage started building in my chest. Three fucking years, and he's still pulling this condescending bullshit.

The crew went quiet. Marcus shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very interested in his clipboard.

I turned around, and there he was - Tyler Brooks, golden boy of American racing, standing there like he owned the whole damn track.

"Tyler." I kept my voice level, though every instinct screamed to tell him exactly where he could shove his fake praise. "What brings you to our humble testing facility?"

He shrugged, that trademark smirk playing across his lips. "Just keeping an eye on the competition. Though I have to say, there's only so far a female test driver can realistically go in this business."

Still the same arrogant prick who thinks he can belittle me.

"Actually," Tyler's voice boomed across the track, cutting off my response, "since we're all here, I have some exciting news to share."

Something cold crawled up my spine.

"Everyone, gather around!" He clapped his hands like he was calling a team meeting. "I think you all should hear this."

The crew reluctantly formed a loose circle. I was still catching my breath when I saw Carmen walking over from the equipment tent, microphone in hand.

Wait. Carmen was already here?

My stomach dropped as I watched her move closer to Tyler. There was something off about the way she carried herself - like she was trying too hard to look casual.

But it was the look in her eyes that made my blood run cold. Guilty. Excited. Like she was getting off on some sick joke I wasn't in on yet.

Tyler's grin widened as Carmen reached his side. "Carmen has agreed to become my wife."

For a second, I thought I'd misheard him. Carmen? My Carmen? The girl who used to practice interview questions with me in our dorm room, who knew exactly how Tyler had treated me?

The betrayal hit me like a physical blow. All those coffee dates, all those times she'd listened to me vent about Tyler's cruelty, all her reassurances that I deserved better...

She'd been playing me the entire fucking time.

I stared at her, waiting for the punchline. For her to laugh and tell Tyler to stop being an ass. Instead, she looked at me with something that made my blood boil.

Satisfaction. The bitch was actually enjoying this.

"Congratulations," I heard myself say, though my voice sounded like it was coming from underwater.

Carmen straightened her shoulders, then suddenly shifted into her professional mode, raising the microphone between us like nothing had happened.

"Actually, Val, since I'm here with Channel 7 Sports," she said, that bright reporter smile sliding across her face like a mask, "our viewers would love to hear about what's new in your world. Any exciting developments lately?"

The audacity of it. She'd just announced her engagement to my ex-boyfriend and now wanted to interview me like we were strangers.

Two can play this game, you backstabbing bitch.

"Actually, yes," I said, looking directly into the camera. "I'm getting married next month. My fiancé and I are finally making it official."

Tyler's confident expression cracked for just a moment. Carmen's professional smile wavered.

Good. Let them both squirm.

"That's... wonderful news," Carmen managed, her voice slightly strained. "I'm sure our viewers would love to know more about this mystery man."

Tyler let out a short laugh. "Come on, Val. Really? You're getting married?" He shook his head with mock sympathy. "I mean, after everything that happened, what kind of guy would actually want to—"

"Tyler." Carmen's voice carried a warning, but he was already rolling.

"No, seriously. I'm genuinely curious who would be desperate enough to—"

"To marry someone like me?" I finished, my voice deadly calm.

Tyler's grin widened. "Your words, not mine."

That's when something inside me snapped. The months of staying quiet, of keeping my head down, of letting people think what they wanted to think about me. Fuck that.

"Alex Ricci," I said, my voice carrying across the track. "That's his name. He's in racing too."

Tyler's confident expression faltered for just a moment. "Ricci? Like... Italian racing Ricci?"

"The very same."

For a heartbeat, Tyler looked confused. Then I watched as recognition dawned, and the color slowly drained from his face.

He recovered quickly, his smile turning vicious. "Speaking of mysteries, how's that three thousand dollars treating you, Val? Still living off your little... settlement from when you fucked up so spectacularly?"

Heat flooded my face. The settlement. The money they'd given me to keep quiet about what really happened three years ago. Everyone here probably thought I'd taken it because I was guilty.

Carmen was studying her shoes. Still no defense. Still no contradiction.

Of course. She knew about this too. They both planned to humiliate me.

"You know what?" Tyler's voice dripped with false concern. "Carmen's been such a good friend, keeping me updated on how you're doing. Every little test, every small achievement." He paused, letting that sink in. "It's amazing what people will share over coffee, isn't it?"

The betrayal cut deeper than I'd expected. Every conversation we'd had. Every time I'd vented about work, about the pressure. She'd been reporting back to him like some kind of spy.

You conniving bitch. All those years of friendship meant nothing to you.

"You've been spying on me." The words came out flat, emotionless, though inside I was burning with rage.

Carmen finally looked up, and there was no apology in her eyes. Just cold calculation. "I'm a journalist, Val. It's my job to stay informed."

Stay informed? You were my friend. Or at least I thought you were.

Tyler laughed, sharp and cruel. "See, the thing about people who get eliminated is that they stay eliminated. Some people just can't handle the pressure when it really counts."

That's when I saw Alessandro walking over from the pit building.

The effect was immediate. Tyler's mouth snapped shut mid-sentence. Carmen actually took a step back. Even Marcus stopped pretending to look at his clipboard.

But what hit me wasn't just relief - it was something electric. The way Alessandro moved with that confident grace, the way his dark eyes took in the scene with calculating precision. There was something dangerous about him, something that made my pulse race.

"Tyler," he said, his voice calm but carrying that slight Italian accent that somehow made everything sound more serious. "This is a workplace."

Not a suggestion. A statement.

Tyler's entire demeanor shifted, his voice taking on that fake enthusiasm. "Alessandro! Great to see you, man. What brings you to our little corner of Miami?"

"Business," Alessandro replied simply, his dark eyes taking in the scene - Tyler's arm around Carmen, her microphone, my obvious distress.

When his gaze met mine, something passed between us. A silent understanding. A promise that made heat pool low in my stomach.

Tyler's grin widened, sensing an opportunity. "Actually, perfect timing. You'll get a kick out of this." He gestured toward me like I was entertainment. "Val here just announced she's getting married. Won't even tell us who the poor bastard is. Just some guy named 'Alex Ricci.'" He made air quotes with his fingers, voice dripping with mockery. "Claims he's in racing too."

Alessandro's expression didn't change, but something deadly quiet entered his voice. "Alex Ricci."

Tyler was still grinning, oblivious. "Yeah, probably some nobody mechanic or something. I mean, let's be honest, after the whole scandal, what serious racing guy would want to—"

"My name," Alessandro said, each word precise and sharp, "is Alessandro Ricci. But my friends call me Alex."

The silence that followed was deafening. Tyler had gone very, very quiet.

I watched the blood drain from both Tyler and Carmen's faces, and for the first time in three years, I felt something like victory.

Checkmate, you bastards.

Twenty minutes later, I found myself walking across the parking lot with Alessandro, my mind still reeling from his revelation.

"Thank you," I said finally. "For stepping in back there."

Alessandro slowed his pace, his hands in his pockets. "We're getting married. You could have told them directly."

I didn't respond immediately. The contract marriage we'd agreed to six months ago felt suddenly... complicated. Especially with the way he was looking at me, like I was something precious he'd finally found.