STEFANO RUSSO’S (NERO) POV
The car shuddered to a stop, the sll of rubber and fuel still clinging to the air. When I climbed out, the noise hit like a wave — the roar of engines winding down, the crowd’s cheer swelling and breaking like surf. For a beat, I just stood there, chest heaving, letting it all crash over . God, I’d missed this. The clean rush of a finish. The sharp, bright pulse of adrenaline. Even Rhino’s cheap antics hadn’t been enough to sour it.
But already, my eyes were searching. Not for the flag, not for the caras. For her.
Zoe.
I spotted Emily first — loud as ever, clapping above her head, face flushed from screaming herself hoarse. And there, just beside her, Zoe. She wasn’t clapping. Wasn’t even smiling. Her hands curled around the rails, shoulders slouched as if the cheering didn’t belong to her world at all. She looked like she’d been dropped in the middle of sothing she hadn’t asked for, blinking against the noise.
My stomach dipped.
"Congratulations, man!" A racer slapped my back, grinning wide.
I gave him the kind of smile that didn’t reach my eyes. "Thanks," I muttered, but my gaze stayed on her. That hollow look in her face stuck under my skin, sharp and wrong. Pride and worry tangled so tightly in my chest it hurt to breathe.
I walked past the car over to the woman in charge and pressed the keys into her palm. "Thanks. I’m heading out."
Her eyebrows lifted. "Already? Co on, stay for a drink. It’s been ages since you ca around."
The offer tempted in another life. Tonight it grated. "I can’t," I said. My voice sounded small, even to . "I’ve got sothing I need to handle."
She shrugged, and I was already walking.
The crowd was thick, faceless blurs of noise and color as I pushed through. Emily was leaning against the rails now, Benny beside her, both of them buzzing from the race. But Zoe... Zoe hadn’t moved. She stared out toward the track as if it still held her in its grip.
I reached her and touched her shoulder, gentle, testing. She flinched. My chest pinched.
"Zoe," I said, softer. "Hey. You okay?"
Her lashes fluttered and she let out a shaky breath, like she’d only just rembered how to. "I’m fine." Her voice tried for steady, but it wavered at the edges.
Fine. The most dangerous word there is.
"Do you need a hospital?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, heavy with images I didn’t want — her fainting, hurting, breaking, because of .
She shook her head, eyes clearing a little. "I’m okay. Really."
I wanted to believe her. Needed to. Still, the unease stayed lodged in my throat. "If you weren’t okay with this," I said quietly, "you would have told ."
She opened her mouth to say sothing, but a voice from behind sliced through, deep and mocking.
"Hey Nero. Is this your new toy?"
Everything in went still.
My hand tightened on her shoulder, grounding and restraining both of us. I turned, slow, and t Rhino’s grin. His gang fanned behind him, smirking like backup singers to his ugly little tune.
Toy. He’d said toy. About her.
"What did you just call her?" My words ca out flat, almost calm, but the calm was the kind that cracks before the storm.
"If this is your new toy," he repeated, slow, savoring it.
Sothing cold slotted into place inside . Don’t, I told myself. Don’t give him what he wants. Don’t—
But the image of Zoe, small and dazed beside , branded by that word, burned too deep.
I moved before thought caught up. One shove — hard, fast. He hit the ground, and the noise of the crowd bled into a tallic ring. My fist found his face once, twice, again, and the world shrank to skin and bone and fury.
"Don’t." Another hit. "You." Another. "Ever." Another. "Call." Another. "Her." The last one landed hard. "That."
Blood sared across his face. He groaned, head lolling, and still I wanted more.
Benny’s grip yanked back, strong, urgent. "Nero, stop!" he barked, planting himself between us.
My chest heaved. My fists still curled, ready, aching.
I stared down at Rhino, voice low, ice over fire. "You say that again, and it’ll be the last day you breathe."
Silence. My own words rang in my ears. The cold part of , the one that knew better, stirred with sha. I’d promised myself I’d keep her out of this side of . Promised I wouldn’t let her see what this world demanded. But here she was, pulled into it because I wanted to show her sothing real. I wanted her to see .
And instead, I showed her this.
I forced my hands to uncurl, forced myself to turn away. I reached for Zoe, took her hand, not to claim her, but to anchor myself. Her fingers were cool in mine, and she didn’t pull back.
We left without a word, slipping into the tunnel, the car waiting like a lifeline at the end. Inside, the roar of the track was gone, but the fight replayed sharp and jagged in my head.
I glanced at her profile in the dim light, her silence louder than the engine.
This was a mistake. A bad idea from the start.
I should never have brought her here.
******
ZOE DEAN’S POV
The car was quiet except for the low growl of the engine and the occasional hiss of tires against the road. Every now and then, I stole a glance at Nero. His hands were locked tight on the steering wheel, knuckles pale, a small split on one of them from the fight. His jaw was set, and each sharp turn he took made the muscles in his forearms flex.
He’s still angry.
He didn’t say anything, but I could feel it radiating off him, like heat from asphalt.
I sighed because I knew that ever since the night he told to get into his car, my life would never be the sa. It had been spinning out of its lane. Out of my control. Like I’d stepped onto a track I didn’t know how to run.
When we reached the hotel, he unlocked the door without a word. Inside, the quiet was thicker. He sank onto the couch, leaning back, one arm thrown across the cushion, his eyes on nothing. I perched next to him, feeling small, like a soft animal that doesn’t quite know if it’s welco.
The silence stretched. It was heavy but not cruel. My fingers twisted in my lap. Say sothing. Anything.
"Thank... thank you for standing up for today," I whispered finally. My voice sounded small even to .
He didn’t answer right away. His gaze flicked to once, still clouded, but I knew the frown wasn’t for . He was sowhere else, maybe back on the track, maybe still replaying the fight.
After a long mont, his voice ca low, almost regretful. "I should apologise for taking you there."
I shook my head quickly. "I did have fun though," I said, forcing a little smile. "So there’s no need to apologise."
This ti he turned fully toward . I kept my smile small but steady, and sothing in his face softened. The edge in his eyes eased. We stayed like that for a heartbeat, just looking at each other, until he said quietly, "Co here."
I exhaled and inched closer. His arm ca around my shoulders, warm and firm, and he guided to lean against his chest as he leaned back into the couch. His heartbeat was a wild, uneven rhythm under my ear, and for a mont it grounded .
"You good?" he asked after a while, his fingers tracing idle lines over my hand.
I closed my eyes. "Honestly?" My voice ca out low, soft. "I was scared earlier. I thought... I thought sothing bad would happen to you."
He didn’t answer, but I felt his body loosen a little beneath mine. His breath left him in a rush and then he pulled closer, like he needed the contact as much as I did.
"Zoe," he said softly. My skin prickled hearing my na like that.
"Yes?"
"I’m sorry I took you there," he said calmly.
I sighed, guessing he felt guilty for taking there.
"But you know sothing?" He continued. "I’m... glad I t you."
My breath caught. I blinked up at him, heart thudding. Did he just say that? What does that even an? Words gathered in my throat and dissolved before they could form.
His eyes found mine — sharp at first, then searching, almost gentle. Slowly his gaze drifted to my lips. He swallowed hard.
"Zoe," he murmured again, his eyes never leaving my lips. "Can I kiss you?"
My pulse jumped. I hadn’t expected him to ask. I hadn’t expected him to ask at all. But I heard myself whisper, "Yes," as I nodded, slow.
He studied for a second longer, then leaned in carefully, like I might break if he moved too fast. His lips t mine, warm and tentative. My hands trembled in my lap before I reached up to touch his chest.
The world fell away — no crowd, no race, no fight. Just the quiet press of his mouth on mine, soft and sure.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes stayed on , and I was still tasting him, still trying to breathe.
He smiled faintly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "We should go to bed now," he said gently.
Heat rose to my face. "Okay," I murmured.
He nodded and checked his watch like he was rembering the world outside us. We rose together, walking back to the bedroom without needing to fill the silence.
After our baths, we slipped beneath the covers. He pulled into his arms and I let him. Sohow, wrapped against his chest, I felt safe. Comfortable. Like, for the first ti in a long ti, I might actually belong sowhere.
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