Behind the barrier, reporters shifted closer, phones out, cameras angled our way.
“Careful,” I said, still calm. “You’re talking about your sister and this is all going on record.”
“I don’t give a shit.” His voice carried across the pen now, drawing more attention. “You’re a joke. The whole paddock knows it. The only reason you’ve got a seat is because Julian needs someone to carry his brand. Without him, you’re nothing.”
I smiled. Slow and easy. “Actually, mate, I’ve got some news about that.”
I walked away from Callaghan and the nearest reporter leaned over the barrier immediately, microphone extended. “What’s the news, Griffin?”
My gaze found Julian’s at the back of the pen. His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable, waiting for me to deflect. To lie. To be his perfect, obedient driver.
My smile widened.
“I’ve had a great run with Aedris,” I said, keeping my eyes locked on Julian. “Two Driver’s Championships, some of the best races of my career. I owe them a lot.”
Satisfaction flickered in his eyes.
“Which is why,” I said, my grin widening, “I’m really looking forward to racing against them next year. When I’m driving for Rekford.”
The pen erupted.
Reporters shouted questions, the noise levels spiking as they fought to be heard. Behind the barrier, journalists scrambled for position, microphones thrust forward. I ignored them all. My focus was entirely on Julian.
His face drained of color. The mask shattered. For the first time since I’d met him, Julian Carter had absolutely nothing to say.
A wave of phone notifications buzzed through the crowd as Rekford’s press officer sent out the official release.
“When was this deal finalized?”
“Will you finish the season?”
I held up a hand, and the chaos quieted just enough for me to be heard. “I’ll be giving everything I have for Aedris until the final lap in Abu Dhabi.” My gaze found Julian one last time. “I owe the team that much.”
Then I walked away, leaving him to stand in the wreckage of his own making. It was the best win I’d had all season.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
VIOLET
Iwas going to kill him. Or kiss him. I hadn’t decided yet.
Both options had merit.
Killing him for being an absolute reckless idiot who’d just torched his relationship with my father on live television.
Kissing him for the exact same reason.
I couldn’t stop replaying it, Griffin’s face on the TV in the suite, that slow grin spreading across his face right before he dropped the bomb. I swear I stopped breathing when he got that glint in his eye. I KNEW he was going to do something. I just didn’t expect it to be... that!
So naturally, I’d spent the last two hours pacing the hotel suite like a crazy person.
The broadcast had ended ages ago. I knew the drill—media pen, team debrief, engineering breakdown. Usually, I respectedthe post-race ritual. Tonight, I wanted to scream at them to hurry the hell up.
“What am I doing?” I whispered to the empty room. “What am I actually doing here?”
This changed nothing.
Griffin signing with Rekford didn’t undo the fact that he’d dismissed every warning I’d given him. It didn’t erase the way he’d looked at me like I was overreacting.
