I huffed a laugh. “Not wrong.”
She cracked the smallest smile but went on. “But she’s different. I didn’t expect that. I didn’t expect to love her like this.” Her throat bobbed on a swallow. “Like…I’d burn the world down to keep her safe. She smiles at me, and I feel like my heart wasn’t even mine before.”
That cracked something open in me. I turned my head, watching her, letting the weight of her words settle between us.
“I didn’t know I could love like that,” she added quietly. “Not until her.”
I felt my chest pull tight. I knew exactly what she meant. Being Gia’s uncle had reshaped my entire world. The first time she called me Zio, I’d nearly burst into tears like some kind of sap.
“I get it,” I said after a beat. “When she runs up to me yelling my name or throws her arms around me just because…that’s it. That’s my whole universe right there.”
Nicola turned her head to meet my gaze. Her expression was open in a way I rarely saw, stripped of all her usual bite and fire. “Did you always want kids?”
I shook my head, thinking. “Not always. But I do now. After Gia, it’s…yeah. I want that. A family. Messy breakfasts. Chaos. Little shoes everywhere.”
She smiled, small and wistful. “You probably want a whole football team.”
“At least,” I said, smirking.
“You’d be an insufferably good dad.” Her voice was quieter, like she hadn’t meant to say it out loud. My heart squeezed. I turned my face back to the sun, trying to play it cool, but the words hit somewhere deeper than I expected.
“I hope so,” I murmured. “That’s the dream, anyway.”
She was quiet for a moment, then asked, “What about after racing? Where do you see yourself?”
The image came easily, painted in the back of my mind like a permanent daydream. “Back in the countryside. Taking over the vineyard from my parents. Building a house on the edge of the property. Waking up with the sun, walking barefoot through the vines, drinking wine before lunch.”
She let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh, but not quite. “That sounds peaceful.”
“Yeah,” I said, glancing at her again. “I think I’m chasing that kind of peace. That’s the end game for me.”
“Sounds rather nice,” she said thoughtfully.
“What about you? Ten years from now, where will Nicola Moretti be?” She laughed lightly, again she seemed free and light, I cherished it, like soaking in her sunlight.
“I started this year trying to find a spot for myself within Moretti Racing. I think my father has spent so long trying to get my brother, Michael, to get serious and involved in the family business that he just assumed I wasn’t interested. I mean, I didn’t really ever say anything. I finished university and worked a few different jobs, but nothing really stuck. I just didn’t have that spark about any of it. My dad, my grandfather, they’ve all had that racing spark. I’ve grown up in the sport, going to races, growing up around racers themselves. I was never super into racing; did a few karting runs with my brother when we were young, but that was about it. I really like the charity side though. Doing the gala was the first time I felt that spark. I think maybe I’d like to take up that end of the business. I’ve been working on new ideas and presentations, had a few calls with the chairwoman, Henrietta.”
“That’s really amazing, finding your spot in motorsport,” I said, reaching out and going to intertwine our fingers. It was a reach; she wasn’t always a huge physical touch person except in heated moments. She kept these walls up so high, not letting people in. But I understood it, I had friends and teammates who grew up in motorsport with stupid amounts of old money, families that were riddled with legends. They had a different level of expectation: always on, always perfect, always prepared.
Her fingers curled around mine, squeezing once. My heart squeezed right along with it.
“You know there’s really this whole other person under carefree, happy-go-lucky Matteo DeLuca, huh?” she said to the sky.
“I am basically an onion,” I replied, and Nicola burst out in laughter.
“Why isthatwhat you picked as your metaphorical food?” she asked between fits of laughter.
“I have layers, baby,” I said, winking.
16
NICOLA
“You’re a literal angel on this earth. I’m endlessly grateful for you!” Lucia said, blowing me a kiss and running out the door with a wave. “Have fun! Don’t kill each other, bye!”
“God, they’re so disgustingly in love,” I said to Matteo once the door shut. I had curled Lucia’s hair and let her borrow my classic red lipstick for her night out with Alexander. She looked amazing, and her sunshine was damn near contagious. Or it was spending the day with Matteo, the way he pulled me close after we jumped into the water or talked while we lay in the sun. Matteo was so easy to talk to. I had never had that. Those damn DeLuca siblings were making me soft.
“Zietta?” Gianna spoke up. I turned, crouching down to her level, Matteo catching my eye as I did.
