Page 151 of The Savage

Not this weekend.

The crowd scream every time my face – or Dante’s, because less than 0.1 per cent of them can tell us apart – appears on the camera. And those cameras? They’re everywhere. They’re especially rabid since my accident and my ‘miraculous’ recovery. Our schedules are public down to the minute.

And that’s the thing that makes me super fucking angsty. Anyone with half a brain and a grudge knows exactly where we are.

So we triple security.

Black jackets where team polos should be. Earpieces under hair. Eyes that never stop moving. Cesare runs the perimeter with the quiet fury of a man daring the world to try something. Rafa shadows Sofiya like he’s welded to her spine. Dante’s already strapped into the sister Furia car across the paddock, helmet on, visor down, ready to burn asphalt and whatever’s left of his patience.

I stand in my trailer and stare at the suit hanging on the hook.

Race mode should be automatic by now. Focus. Numbers. Lines. Grip.

Instead, my mind keeps drifting to Fallbrook. To walls thick enough to stop a missile. To dogs and men and cameras layered on cameras. To the idea that maybe I should have left Giada there.

The thought needles me.

She steps into the trailer like she belongs here, because she does now. My girl. My problem. My everything. She looks calm, which tells me she’s clocked my mood and decided not to poke it yet.

‘You’re thinking too loud,’ she says softly.

I don’t answer.

The door opens again and Narciso Mancinelli walks in like he owns the air.

‘I’m here to say hello to my sister,’ he says, eyes flicking to Giada before settling on me. ‘And to remind you that if anything happens to her⁠—’

I move before I think.

Cesare’s hand comes up fast, blocking my chest. ‘Easy.’

Narciso smirks. ‘You think a helmet makes you untouchable, Salvatore? Take it off and let’s go.’

‘You think running your mouth makes you useful?’ I snap.

Giada steps between us without fear. That’s what kills me and makes me fucking love her more. ‘Narciso. Stop.’

He softens a fraction for her. Then his eyes cut to me again. ‘You’re fast,’ he says. ‘But speed doesn’t mean shit if you can’t protect what’s standing next to you.’

I point to the door. ‘Get the fuck out,’ I growl.

He does. Not before glaring at everyone, including Bibi, on the way out like he’s filing it away for later.

The door slams.

My pulse is too high. My hands shake with the need to hit something.

Giada closes the space between us and puts her palms flat on my chest. ‘Look at me.’

I don’t want to. I do anyway.

‘You’re not leaving me,’ she says. ‘And you’re not losing your head.’

‘I shouldn’t have brought you,’ I say. The truth tastes bitter. ‘Fallbrook is a fortress. You would’ve been safer there.’

She looks at the other people in the room. Cesare stares back, but after a minute he jerks his head and everyone vacates, leaving us alone. ‘This is your life,’ she says, and it really is as simple as that. ‘I won’t be locked away while you race into danger.’

I huff out a breath. ‘You shouldn’t have to be here.’