Kimi shrugged. “And they don’t even know there are two Frasers now. How incredibly apt.”
I blinked at all of them. “Wait… you leaked it?”
Ivy’s grin turned razor-sharp. “Yes, darling, I leaked it during your little lap cuddle lovefest at dinner. It belongs to the world now. Henric and Luminis. Morel and Orion GP. The FIA. Every dirty corner they couldn’t scrub on their own. It’s all public.”
Callum rubbed his forehead, and my heart sank at the thought that our bliss bubble was starting to deflate. “You didn’t even warn us?”
Ivy raised a brow. “Doyouwarn me before you make retirement announcements that destroy my best friend’s emotional stability? No? Okay then. We’re even.”
Our phones buzzed again.
So did everyone else’s.
“Ivy, ” Callum murmured, somewhere between awe and horror, “you just declared a public fight.”
Her smile turned feral. “I’ve been bored.”
“Happy honeymoon hangover, you whorishly wedded bastards. Enjoy your wedding gift,” Marco stated proudly, removing his sunglasses and flinching at the light.
Kimi raised a hand. “I’d like some credit, too. I uploaded the zip files and offered emotional support.”
Marco winked. “I hit send. It was hot.”
“And the fallout?” I asked slowly.
“Immediate and severe,” Ivy said. “Henric’s already issued a ‘no comment’ statement. Reinhardt’s announcing an emergency press conference. The Orion board is calling a closed-door session. And you two?”
She grinned, then popped a cherry into her mouth like she’d been waiting all week to say it.
“You two are in the clear. The pregnancy rumors are buried. Your location is safe. No one knows about the wedding or Lucy’s whereabouts. Everyone’s too busy watching the FIA burn andsharing radio clips and race snippets backing up the apparent sabotage in Frenchie’s car.”
I gaped at her. Then down at my phone. Then to my new husband.
He looked at me. I looked at him.
And slowly, I pulled my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose. The dramatic pause was unintentional. But when you’re married to a Fraser, some habits rub off.
Suddenly, I was calm. Collected. Ferocious.
And when I stood—inked, bare-legged, freshly married and entirely too hungover, I felt the shift settle deep in my bones. The honeymoon haze was over. My heart was still tender, still full, but my spine had sharpened into steel again.
Ivy must’ve seen it in my eyes, because her smile dropped just a little. And Marco let out a quietoh fuck yeahunder his breath.
I took one last sip of my coffee, then unlocked my phone again.
The truth was finally out. The storm was coming. And I wasn’t scared, because I had my family by my side through it all.
We didn’t need to pray for victory anymore. We were the reckoning. We came, we saw, and we fuckingconquered.
I looked up with a content smile and said, “We’re not starting a fight. We’re ending the war.”
Rain trickleddown the car window, loud yet soothing like a lullaby. Fat drops streaked across the glass, scattering the soft gold blur of the countryside as we wound into the hills. The storm had rolled in just as we crossed the border, all slow and moody and summer-warm.
Cal had arranged to have my car trailered back from Monaco so we could go home together.
Back to the countryside house. Back to the life we were still learning how to build. Back to the quiet to keep us in our bliss bubble honeymoon haze for just a little bit longer.
Cal’s voice drifted through the car in low, clipped murmurs—somewhere between casual and commanding. His Scottish drawl made words like “Vegas” and “meeting” and “private club” sound like coded promises instead of logistics. He was on the phone with Beckett and Maverick, finalizing some plan forNovember. A sit-down during GP week, inside Maverick and Sophie’s club at Pillars Resort.
