We all cracked up at the same time, and for a moment, it didn’t matter that we were in the middle of a high-stakes racing weekend, or that we were juggling PR events and sponsorship meetings and a thousand different time zones.
At that moment? We were just three women, sitting in the middle of the chaos, holding each other up.
And damn, it felt good to be known like this.
27
MATTEO
I’d been through enough media cycles to know when a question was coming before it was even out of someone’s mouth.
The reporter shifted forward in her seat, her eyes gleaming with that particular brand of journalistic glee that came with digging into things that weren’t theirs to dig into.
“So, Matteo,” she said, the smile too saccharine to be anything but bait, “There’ve been a few…photos circulating. You and Nicola Moretti lookedveryclose after the last race. Is there something you’d like to share with your fans?”
I held her gaze, calm, practiced. A few years ago, I might’ve fumbled this. Might’ve joked my way out of it or dodged the question entirely. But now?
Now I just thought of Nicola’s text from earlier.
‘Would this make it any better?’ it had read.Attached was a photo that had nearly killed me. She was laid back on the hotel bed in some lacey little thing that definitely didnotcount as clothing. Her legs were crossed, lips parted in a smug little smirk like she knew exactly what it would do to me. Because she did. Because she was evil. Beautiful, smart, funny—and evil.
God, all I wanted was to end this interview, find her, and ruin that set. Slowly. Thoroughly.
I cleared my throat and leaned in, voice even. “I think there’s an important conversation to be had about privacy. Drivers—public figures in general—we deal with a lot of intrusion. But sharing personal photos without consent? That’s a line no one should cross.” My jaw ticked slightly, but I kept it reined in. “Those images were private. They weren’t meant for public consumption, and it’s disappointing that they were treated like gossip instead of the violation they are.”
The room went still. A few reporters nodded—some scribbled notes. I could feel the next question coming, so I lifted a hand and added, “As for my personal life…”
Pause. Deep breath.Think before you say something that makes your PR team faint.“…I’ll keep most of it personal, because that’s what it should be. But I’ll also say this”—I glanced at the cameras with a smile that felt a little too honest—“I’m very happy. And very lucky.”
There were a few murmurs, some exchanged glances. My answer had just made headlines. Inside, though? Inside, I was replaying the way Nicola looked in that lace, imagining the click of her heels against the marble as she walked toward me later tonight, pretending she didn’t know what she’d done.
She knew.
Shealwaysknew.
And I was already counting the minutes until I could get my hands on her.
Another hand shot up immediately after I answered, this time from a journalist I recognized—British press, notoriously blunt.
“Matteo, does this mean you’re officially in a relationship? Or are we still in the ‘just friends’ territory you mentioned last month?”
I smiled, letting my tongue rest against the inside of my cheek. “You know,” I said, “I think the term ‘just friends’seriously undersells how complicated and interesting people’s connections can be.”
A few quiet laughs around the room.
“I’m not big on labels, but I’m big on honesty. So if I say I care deeply about someone, that I respect them, that I’m proud to know them—that should count for something.”
And if I say I’m one text away from skipping this whole weekend to pin her against the wall of her suite?
Probably shouldn’t saythatout loud.
Another voice jumped in—this time from an Italian reporter with a mic branded in Moretti red. “Is it hard, dating someone so closely tied to your team?”
My grin widened. “It’s Formula One,” I said. “Everything’s hard. You learn to compartmentalize.”
Like not thinking about how she looked with her hair up, or how she whispered good luck in my ear like she meant it everywhere.
Another hand went up, this one more hesitant. “Matteo, with the championship still undecided, and your teammate out of the points, all eyes are on you. How do you stay focused with everything going on—on and off track?”
