Alaric
The number four — his racing number — stared back at me like a taunt.
My stomach dropped instantly. Nico was here. Right now. In this very facility.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white. Of all the days, of all the moments, he had to show up here today.
I had known our paths would cross again eventually, especially with the season starting soon, but I had not expected it to happen so soon. Not here. Not while I was still trying — and failing — to push the memories of the Maldives out of my head.
Goodness.
Harold noticed my sudden tension and followed my gaze. He let out a low whistle. "Wait… is that his car? Damn. It seems like both of you are fated to be together or something. The universe keeps throwing you two at each other."
I gritted my teeth so hard I could hear them grind. "No," I snapped, my voice low and sharp. "He is my fucking nemesis."
The words came out harsher than I intended, but they felt true.
