“How’s my girl?” I asked, poking her chubby little cheek.
“Good!” she squealed, her laugh filling the space around us. Her tiny hands latched onto my neck, her fingers brushing over the tattoo spread across my throat. She poked at the inky wings etched into my skin, her big eyes full of wonder.
“Will your wings help you win?” she asked earnestly.
“I sure hope so,” I said, trying to keep a straight face as my heart melted a little.
Lucia reached us then, her smile soft as she watched us. I extended an arm toward her, and she didn’t hesitate to step into me, her warmth pressing against my side. With Gianna in one arm and Lucia tucked into the other, the rest of the world faded away. It was just us—my two favorite girls.
Here, like this, I felt unstoppable.
“Good luck out there.” Lucia raised up on her tiptoes, brushing a kiss to my cheek, but I didn’t want a chaste kiss on my cheek, I wanted her lips, so I trailed my finger along her jaw and tipped her chin to me and kissed her.
“Thanks, angel,” I said lowly before kissing her forehead and turning to face Gianna. “All right, princess, be good for your mum, okay?” Gianna nodded as she held out her arms for Lucia, who took her.
“We’ll be cheering you on from here!” She waved.
The moments before a race were always the same: the controlled chaos of the grid, the hum of engines warming up, and my own heartbeat, steady but electric. This was my world. As I settled into the cockpit, the weight of the helmet pressing against my head felt grounding. I was exactly where I needed to be.
The engineer’s voice came through the radio, crisp and clear. “Final checks complete. You’re good to go, Alex.”
I flipped the switches on the steering wheel, my gloves firm against the grip, my focus narrowing as the lights on the gantry began to light up, one by one. The roar of the crowd melted away, leaving only the pulsing red lights in front of me and the snarling engine beneath me.
When the lights went out, the car roared to life. The wheels spun for a fraction of a second before finding grip, launching me forward. The g-forces pushed me back into the seat as I surged toward turn one.
The opening laps were a blur of precision and aggression. I slipped into a rhythm, each corner a calculated move—braking late, clipping apexes, and throttling out onto the straights. The car felt incredible, perfectly balanced, as if it were glued to the track.
The corners came fast, each one demanding complete focus.
By the final laps of qualifying, it was me versus another driver, fighting for P1. Every move was a gamble.
The last lap was a crescendo. My hands were steady on the wheel, but my heart pounded. Coming out of the final corner, the crowd was a deafening blur of color and sound. The car in front of me made a slight mistake, a wobble on exit. I held my breath as we nearly touched.
“P1, Alex! Incredible drive!”
I let out a yell, a flood of adrenaline and triumph coursing through me. The cooldown lap was a blur.
When I pulled into theparc fermébehind the P1 marker, I climbed out of the car, standing on top of it to soak in the cheers. Now everything came down to tomorrow; if I won one more time, then my points would be well ahead of Theo, making the sixth world title just a little closer.
31
ALEXANDER
It was race day, the world felt too loud, too bright. My chest tightened as the noise of the paddock swirled around me—the buzz of the crowd, the clanging of tools, the hum of engines. It all pressed in, like a vice squeezing my ribs.
I tried to focus on the routine. Gloves on, helmet in hand. But my fingers fumbled, the tremor too obvious. My breath came in short, uneven bursts, and the walls of the motorhome felt like they were closing in.
I sat down heavily on the bench, pressing my palms into my thighs, trying to will myself back to normal. Deep breaths, I told myself. But they wouldn’t come. My head spun, and I gripped the edge of the bench until my knuckles went white. I needed to get it together, I needed to calm the fuck down.
“Alex?”
Her voice cut through the noise. Gentle, steady, familiar. Lucia.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. My vision blurred as I stared down at my hands, still trembling.
“Hey,” she said softly, kneeling in front of me. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t…breathe,” I managed, my voice barely audible. “It’s too much.”
