“And if you race? What happens?”
“If I win, he shuts the fuck up, at least for a while. And I’m back on the track.”
“And if you lose?”
Her silence answers me, eyes drifting to her prized possession.
I push off the hood and close the distance again. “Your car, Valentina? That’s a big risk. What if you’re not fully healed?”
“I’m fine.”
“And if you’re not?”
She lifts her chin. “Maksim, I’ll win.”
“You don’t know that,” I growl. “Look, I can see how much this car means to you, and I’m trying to give a fuck, I really am. But all I can think about is you, wrecking, and that shit eats me up.”
Valentina grabs a fistful of my shirt and yanks me closer. “Why? You like me or something?” she teases, lip caught between her teeth, that crooked smile daring me to admit it.
I catch her jaw, not in the mood for jokes. “No,Ptichka. Because I fucking want you in ways that don’t go away if you crash and burn.”
Her breath stutters, and her smile slips. All I want to do is pin her against the hood and make her promise to stay the hell off that road.
But I know her. She’s as stubborn as she is beautiful, and that’s exactly what’s going to kill me someday.
“I’m not asking you to back down. I know better than to tell you what to do. But if you’re going to race, you do it smart. You don’t throw yourself at some dickhead’s ego with a half-healed body and afuckingdeath wish.”
She blinks, but she’s listening now.
“You gonna stop me?” she asks softly.
I lean in, lips at her ear. “No. But if you wreck, you’re mine to drag out and deal with. And I swear to God, Valentina...”
Fire flares behind her eyes again. But she doesn’t get it. Not really.
I clutch my shirt over my chest. I’d never forgive her if she left me with all of this.
And I don’t know what that would turn me into.
“How about you ride with me while we take her to stretch her legs. See if I still got it.”
She doesn’t wait, just rounds the car and tosses a set of keys to Remi before sliding into the driver’s seat. I glance at Remi, one brow raised.
She shrugs and winks. “See you atFuria.”
Thirty-Five
MAKSIM
“What’sFuria?” I ask as Valentina pulls onto the highway.
She slides me a sideways glance as she shifts gears and hits the gas.
“It’s an underground racing circuit.”
Of course it is. And of course she’s part of it.
The Supra growls beneath us, the sound vibrating through the cabin as she weaves between cars. My hand tightens on the edge of the seat. I love speed, but it feels different when I’m not the one in control.
