Page 8 of Driving the Billionaire Wild

Shaking off her thoughts, she busied herself with greeting the photographer she’d hired for the afternoon and outlining her plan. Usually, she would have her team with her for official photoshoots or events, but with the league on a one-month summer break she had cleared everyone to work from home. Just as she had planned to do herself, she thought with a groan, as she set up her work station on a bench at the edge of the track.

The next hour passed as she oversaw shots of Apollo’s one-to-one mentoring of the teen drivers, instructing the photographer to keep close and focus on building the story she wanted to curate.

She sneakily took some candid shots on her own phone to upload to their team social story when everyone gathered in the garage, just short clips of the group driving around the track, and the serious look on Apollo’s faceas he slid into the gleaming Falco Roux racing car they’d had transported from Monaco for the day.

He switched easily from English to Italian, with some French thrown in for good measure. Drivers in Elite One tended to speak multiple languages; it was part of the job. On the night they’d first met, had she not noted his distinctively deep baritone? His accent had seemed more typically Italian then—probably because he’d been in his home country, she realised now—but usually it held distinctive inflections from both his parents’ cultures, beneath the polished neutral tone he adopted for public speaking.

She quietly watched him behaving in ‘racing star’ mode but occasionally his eyes slid to where she stood, as though he ensured she was still there. She wasn’t sure whether to feel threatened or excited by that knowledge, but she hadn’t lied—she wouldn’t leave, not until she’d told him the full truth, no matter how much that terrified her.

The big finale of the afternoon mentoring session was a short qualifying race between Apollo and the six academy drivers. Working in Elite One, the actual racing had always just been a background part of her job, one of the few parts that shedidn’thave to worry about and could happily leave to the professionals. But, as she waved the drivers off one by one, she felt…different.

She found herself tensing up as she watched Apollo’s car line up on the grid. He’d taken the very last spot behind the other drivers, likely to give them a head start, but once the lights went out and the racing was in full throttle it didn’t take him very long to pass them all. Did these cars always need to be driven so fast? Craning herneck, she stood and watched the progress of the drivers as they practically took to the air along the long straight and disappeared from view.

‘One would think he’d go easy on them,’ a feminine voice drawled from the opposite end of the pit wall.

Astrid turned, instantly recognising one of Apollo’s cousins, the PR manager for Accardi Autosport. Allegra Accardi moved with an almost regal grace, her designer suit and perfect blonde chignon seeming to sparkle in the light as she closed the distance between them and leaned in to place the customary Italian greeting upon both of Astrid’s cheeks.

‘I’m very sorry for your loss,’ Astrid said, standing from her seat and trying not to crane her neck to see the view of the racing on the camera monitors behind her. The pit crew and engineers around them had gone suddenly quiet, everyone watching their exchange.

‘Grazie.’Allegra smiled, but her dark eyes narrowed in a way that immediately set off alarm bells in Astrid’s subconscious.

‘Death seems to only encourage the competition in this family.’ Allegra’s attention wandered briefly to the screen where Apollo still dominated the track. ‘Come, let’s find somewhere a little more private, shall we? I believe we havelotsto discuss.’

* * *

Apollo felt the tension coming off Astrid’s body in waves as he entered the executive suite and both women turned to face him. His cousin stood near the windows, a smirk on her lips as Astrid remained seated with her arms folded tightly across her chest.

‘Apollo, I was just filling your PR manager in onNonno’s last wishes. It seems you forgot to mention that you’ve just inherited an entire racing team.’ Allegra frowned infauxconcern.

Astrid’s eyes met his with a subtle nod, a signal to him not to engage further. A short man with a thin moustache entered the room behind him, announcing that Allegra’s presence was needed at a meeting with the Elite One Academy team.

‘I’ll be right there,’ she said with an easy smile. ‘Astrid, it was lovely chatting again after so long. It seems not long ago you were waddling around the tracks trying to hide that giant baby bump. The child must be what…six, now?’

‘He’ll be seven in a couple of weeks.’

She turned her attention to Apollo. ‘Time is a thief, as they say.’

He frowned at the unspoken hostility in his cousin’s gaze as she bid them both goodbye and strode from the room without further comment. He hadn’t expected Allegra to be bold enough to confront him in public, after she’d remained firmly outside the argument with her brothers after the funeral, when they’d discovered he was set to inherit the team. But it appeared she’d just been waiting for her moment. Her comment about time dragged against something in the back of his mind, as had her jab about Astrid. He had never met her son, and had assumed the child was much younger than Allegra had suggested. The knowledge that she’d been with the father of her child so soon after their encounter, or possibly even at the same time, made his stomach tighten with something dark and sharp-edged.

‘Did you plan to tell me about the inheritance?’ Astrid fumed, green eyes sparking.

‘Did you plan to tell me that you weren’t single on the night we met?’

‘What?’ She shook her head, confusion marring her brow. ‘Of course I was single. I don’t see how that’s important right now. Not when you’ve inherited a whole damn rival team.’

It was important to him, apparently—very important, judging from how the bands in his chest loosened instantly at her honest reaction. Something else still niggled at him, but he’d figure it out later. For now, he had a very agitated Englishwoman to appease.

‘I flew all the way here, derailed all of my plans, because Falco Roux takes care of their own. I thought this sudden decision about wanting to break your contract was due togrief. But, according to your cousin, you’ve hidden a crucial fact from the press and you’ve simply been biding your time as you plot to jump ship to our biggest competitor.’

‘Are you asking me if I’m the traitor my cousin implied I am, Astrid?’ He stepped closer, bridging the distance between them with two strides. ‘Because I thought it was your job to know your drivers better than they know themselves.’

‘I can’t make an accurate judgement without all the facts.’

‘If I had wanted to take over Accardi Autosport, I would have just stayed as their lead driver, pretty much guaranteeing my grandfather would leave it to me.’ He waited, watching realisation flare in Astrid’s eyes. ‘But I chose to walk away. And now, in a last attempt to controlmy career, he’s left me a team that I’ve never wanted to own.’

‘You may not have asked for it, but it’s happened and it’s—’

‘A big fucking problem for me and for Fal. Yes, I know; he knew that too. You understand now why I’ve refused to speak to the press until I figure out how to proceed?’