“Mommy, are you okay?” she asked, her little hands brushing my cheeks, her brow furrowed with concern.
“Yes, baby,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Mommy’s okay. I promise.”
I held her tighter, breathing in her scent, letting her warmth chase away the lingering fear. In that moment, I knew I would do whatever it took to keep her safe. Whatever it took.
I wasn’t alone that evening. No one went out and celebrated, no parties were attended. For the first time in a while, all six of us stayed together. Nicola and Anna ordered food—bought every comfort snack they could think of. Matteo had extra security posted around the hotel, and Alexander had already had a restraining order in the works through Dante. Not only would none of them let that piece of shit near us again, but they would make sure he would be arrested, no matter the country, if he even tried to get close.
Matteo and Nicola had been talking in hushed tones. They entertained Gianna when I needed a moment, but I wanted her near me, just like I wanted them all with me. This was my family, mismatched and found, but mine all the same.
Gianna went down early that night. Nicola, Anna, and Matteo left after tight hugs and sad smiles. When it was just Alexander left, I turned to him. The room felt too big, I didn’t want to be alone. So I didn’t think, I just said what I needed.
“Stay,” I asked in a whisper. He nodded, led me to the bathroom, and sat me down on a chair. He pulled out items from my bags and began taking care of me. I felt frozen, but I allowed it. Allowed someone to help, allowed myself to accept the help.
With gentle hands, Alexander moved around the room. He found the right skin-care products on the counter and knelt in front of me, softly dabbing away the remnants of my smeared makeup. His hands were steady, soothing in a way I didn’t realize I needed.
When he handed me my toothbrush, I managed to handle that part myself, but the moment I finished and turned back around, he was pointing at the chair again.
“Sit,” he said softly, but firmly.
I hesitated, but when I saw what was in his hand, a bright pink hairbrush, I couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at my lips.
“Where did you even get that?” I asked, my voice small but lighter than before.
He shrugged, a lopsided grin playing on his lips. “I think it’s Gia’s, but I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
I sank into the chair, exhaustion draping over me like a heavy blanket. When he began to gently glide the brush through my hair, a lump tightened in my throat. Each stroke was deliberate, tender, as if he knew exactly how to unravel the tension knotted deep inside me.
The tears came quietly, slipping down my cheeks before I could stop them. I didn’t speak, and neither did he. He simply kept brushing, his fingers occasionally brushing my skin—a touch so small, yet somehow grounding.
“This is the second time you’ve done this,” I said, my voice breaking. “Did you ever think you’d be brushing a crying woman’s hair after a race?”
“For you, I would,” he replied softly. I let my eyes close, let myself be taken care of.
With my eyes sealed shut, afraid of the real answer, I asked in barely a whisper, “Was it you…behind the custody being signed over?” A pause, a silent breath, hearing the wind outside breezing in through a cracked window.
“Yeah,” his reply came, so softly it was barely audible. I turned and wrapped my arms around him, I heard the clatter of the brush on the counter and then I was enveloped into his arms.
By the time I shuffled into bed, clad in my softest pajamas, I could barely keep my eyes open. Alexander slid in beside me, pulling me into his arms. His warmth surrounded me, and I nestled into his chest, the sound of his heartbeat steady and calming.
And as I drifted off, three words were whispered, like a quiet mantra wrapping around me like a shield:
“I’ve got you.”
22
ALEXANDER
If someone had told me I would wake up next to my best mate’s little sister in a hotel room during the racing season, I wouldn’t have believed them. But here I was.
I woke up to the soft sound of her breathing, it was a peaceful contrast to the whirlwind of yesterday. For a moment, I stayed still, not wanting to disturb the warmth of her body pressed against mine. My arms were wrapped around her, and her face was tucked into my chest, her light hair spilling everywhere in a mess of silk. I wanted to stay like this. Right here, being needed by someone. It was a new feeling. I cared for my people deeply, but it was like something took over my body yesterday. The thought of her ex—Josh, that vile excuse for a man—filled me with a quiet, simmering rage. I’d knock him down again without hesitation if he even so much as thought about coming near her or Gia. When I walked to find them and saw them from afar, I knew something was wrong, their body language off. When I got within earshot and heard the words, my blood boiled. When I saw his hand raise as I ran toward them, saw Lucia flinch, I saw pure red.
The room was still dim, the first rays of sunlight peeking through the curtains, casting a soft golden glow over everything. My gaze drifted down to her, and I couldn’t stop the faint smile tugging at my lips.
She looked so small curled up next to me, her face relaxed and free of the tension that had gripped her last night. My thumb brushed lightly over the back of her hand resting on my chest, and I couldn’t help but marvel at how delicate she seemed—and yet how fiercely strong I knew she was.
God, she’d been through so much. More than anyone should have to handle. She stirred slightly, her nose scrunching up as she nestled closer to me, and I froze.
For all the people I’ve been with, this—this feeling of simply holding someone, protecting them while they slept—was unfamiliar.
