Chapter 4

The invitation arrived Friday morning via Alessandro's secretary, delivered with the kind of nervous energy that meant bad news was coming.

"Mr. Ricci thought you should attend tonight's Brooks Racing Sponsor Appreciation Gala," Maria said, holding out the thick cream cardstock like it might bite her. "He mentioned something about... clearing up misunderstandings."

My stomach dropped. "What misunderstandings?"

Maria shifted uncomfortably. "I'm afraid he overheard your conversation yesterday. About reconciling with Mr. Brooks?"

Shit. Suddenly, the broken pieces of the puzzle formed a clear, ugly picture.

"Maria, I wasn't talking about getting back together with Tyler. I need to return some money and set the record straight."

"Oh." Her face went pale. "Mr. Ricci seemed to think... he mentioned something about you wanting to work things out with your ex-boyfriend."

No wonder Alessandro had gone ice cold on me. He thought I was crawling back to Tyler.

"Can you call him? Explain that—"

"He's already left for the venue," Maria said apologetically. "But he did arrange for a car to pick you up at six-thirty."

I glanced at the clock. Four hours to figure out how to fix this mess.

Those four hours felt endless. I called Alessandro three times – straight to voicemail every time. By six-thirty, my ankle was already acting up from stress.

The car ride to the Fontainebleau was silent except for my racing thoughts. I'd put on my best black dress, hoping it would give me some confidence for whatever shit show was waiting.

"Explain about the money, clear things up with Tyler, make Alessandro understand," I kept telling myself.

But walking into that ballroom, I knew it wouldn't be simple. Crystal chandeliers, white tablecloths, racing elite everywhere. I spotted Alessandro immediately at the bar, surrounded by suits. Even from across the room, he was impossible to miss.

He looked up as I entered, our eyes locking for maybe half a second before he deliberately turned his back to me.

Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

I started heading his way, but Carmen stepped right into my path like some nightmare in sky-high heels.

"Well, well," she said, loud enough for nearby guests to hear. "Look who decided to show up. I thought you were too good for Brooks Racing events now."

The sight of her face, so smug and self-satisfied, made rage flare in my chest. This bitch had been lying to me for years, playing both sides, and now she had the audacity to act like the victim.

"Carmen." I kept my voice level. "I'm just here to—"

"To what? Make another scene?" She tilted her head with fake concern. "Though I guess that's your specialty. Making a mess and having someone else clean it up."

A small crowd was starting to gather, sensing drama. I could see people with their phones already out.

Carmen stepped closer, her voice dropping to a stage whisper that still carried perfectly. "It must be nice, having such a generous... sponsor. I mean, thirty thousand is quite the investment for a washed-up test driver."

My blood turned to ice. "What did you just say?"

"Oh please, Val." Carmen's smile was pure venom. "We all know how these arrangements work. No wonder you can afford designer dresses now – guess you finally found your meal ticket, huh?"

The murmurs around us grew louder. I could hear whispered speculations, see the judgment in people's eyes.

"You're crossing a line," I said, my hands clenching into fists.

"Am I?" Carmen laughed, sharp and cutting. "Want to hear something really fun? Tyler was fucking me the entire time he was with you. Every single night you thought he was 'working late'? He was in my bed, telling me what a pathetic little puppy you were."

The words hit like slaps, but this time, instead of pain, I felt something dark and satisfying. Finally. The truth was coming out.

Around us, the crowd pressed closer, phones recording every word.

"You spent two years following him around like a lost dog," Carmen continued, her voice dripping with malice. "And the whole time, I was right there. He stayed with you because I told him it would be fun to string you along. You were never anything but entertainment to us."

Entertainment. That's all I was to them. A fucking joke they could share between the sheets.

The rage that had been building for three years finally found its target.

"Enough!" I grabbed my water glass and threw the contents directly into Carmen's face.

The ballroom went silent except for the sound of water dripping onto marble. Carmen stood there, mascara running down her cheeks, mouth open in shock.

That felt fucking amazing.

"What the fuck!" Tyler's voice cut through the silence as he appeared beside Carmen. "You've got some nerve coming to my event and pulling this shit!"

Before I could react, Tyler's hands were on my shoulders, shoving me backward hard. I stumbled, my right foot catching on the edge of the buffet table. Pain shot up my leg as I went down, the table's corner scraping along my ankle.

"You think you can start shit at my party?" Tyler snarled, standing over me.

This piece of shit just physically assaulted me. In front of everyone.

I pulled myself up, ignoring the throbbing in my foot, and reached into my purse. The folded cashier's check felt like fire in my hands as I threw it at Tyler's feet.

"There's your fucking thirty thousand!" I shouted, my voice echoing across the silent ballroom. "Keep your dirty money! If I'd known Carmen was your little spy all along, I would've thrown it back in your face years ago!"

Tyler's face went white. Around us, phones were flashing, recording everything.

'Good. Let the whole world see what kind of man Tyler Brooks really is.'

"Valeria." The voice was cold as winter steel.

I turned to see Alessandro standing behind me, his dark eyes taking in my torn dress, the blood on my ankle, Tyler's aggressive stance.

"Where are you hurt?" His voice was deadly quiet.

I pointed at Tyler with a shaking hand. "He pushed me."

Alessandro nodded once, then walked calmly to the nearest table. He picked up a full glass of red wine and, without breaking eye contact with Tyler, dumped it over Tyler's head.

The wine cascaded down Tyler's face, staining his white shirt crimson. The ballroom erupted in gasps.

God, that's sexy. Alessandro just claimed me in front of everyone.

"My wife made herself perfectly clear," Alessandro said, his voice carrying despite its softness. "You had your chance and threw it away. She's injured because of your behavior, and I'd say you're lucky I'm not demanding more satisfaction than this."

The possessive way he said 'my wife' made heat pool low in my stomach despite everything.

Tyler wiped wine from his eyes, his face twisted with rage. "You're really going to do this to me over her?"

Alessandro's smile was arctic. "You're welcome to sue me."

Security appeared at the edges of the crowd, and I realized the entire gala had ground to a halt. Every eye in the room was on us, every phone recording what would become racing's scandal of the year.

Alessandro turned to me, his expression immediately softening. "Can you walk?"

I nodded, though my ankle was screaming. He offered me his arm, and together we walked toward the exit, leaving Tyler dripping wine and Carmen still wiping mascara from her cheeks.

As we reached the ballroom doors, I heard Tyler shout behind us: "This isn't over!"

Damn right it's not over. I'm just getting started, you piece of shit.