My dad gives me a tight smile. “Better hire a lawyer for a prenup then. Women like her are only after one thing, and it’s not your shining personality and good looks.”
My fa?ade drops. I run out of fucks to give him because he is too far gone to help. I made sure to prepare for this exact moment because I had anticipated the stunt he pulled with Maya. After all, I’ve watched him for years. I didn’t expect him to threaten Santi’s contract because I thought he would come after mine.
I let out a long exhale. He looks up at me, his dark eyes glaring at me.
“After spending time with people who care about me, I realized some things. People who love you spend time with you both on and off the track. They go to events and stay until the end to be around you because they want to. It’s not about whether you win or lose. I’m a World Champion and you treat me like a piece of shit on your shoe. Inconvenient and unwanted.”
He tries to say something, but I throw up my hand to shut him up. The upscale restaurant he chose allows us the privacy we need for this heart to black fucking heart.
“And you threaten my girlfriend? You actually fucking told her that her brother may lose a contract with Bandini? Like how sad and shitty is your life that you’d do that? I’m done trying with you. You’ve been a crappy dad my whole life, only caring when it benefits you. In the end, being in my life is more about your image than about being there for me.”
I only pay attention to his rapid blinking and lowering my heart rate.
“You can’t cut me out when I sponsor your team. I was serious about Santiago’s contract renewal. Try me.” He hisses like the fucking snake he is.
“Oh, Father. The thing is I have it all handled. Bandini no longer needs your generous donations. I attended almost every sponsor event, meeting, and gala held this year, slowly securing enough sponsorships to outbid yours. You’re done with my team. Feel free to back another group if you want. Not sure if they need a donor with a crappier attitude than the sewer you crawled out of, but hell, you are a legend after all.”
“This isn’t over. I’m still a sponsor this year, so I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”
I throw my cloth napkin on the table. “I don’t give a fuck. Do whatever you feel like, but stay the hell out of my way.”
No need to sit around and spend another minute with this man, my stomach threatening to rid itself of shame and a sixty-dollar steak.
He doesn’t bother with an apology.
I leave my past behind at the table of some fancy-ass restaurant. Fuck him to the farthest galaxy and back because the moon is just too damn close for comfort.
31
Maya
“Today we’re here with Santiago since he gets jealous of all the attention I give other racers.”
My brother and I sit at a sleek bar top in the Bandini motorhome. I line up two shot glasses next to a bottle of tequila while Santi smiles at the camera situated on an adjacent table.
“Santi admitted he’s down about not making it on the podium the other day. So we are going to do an exclusive episode of Tequila Talks because we still haven’t learned tequila doesn’t fix our problems. I hope this episode goes better than the last one. I’ll ask him a series of questions where he has to take a shot whenever he refuses to answer. I end the show after four because he weighs a lot and I can’t pick his butt up off the floor. Blame their strict workout regimen and muscle mass.”
My brother flexes his bicep at the camera.
“Warning: I didn’t come up with these questions. I want to clarify since fans want answers to things I do not need to know about my brother.” My lips purse at the horny bunch of fans out there—way more than I expect, all tapping away in my inbox about these guys.
I exaggerate a shudder at his mischievous grin and stick my tongue out at him.
“Favorite thing about your sister?” I bat my lashes at him.
“Hmm, who came up with that question?” His brow lifts.
I shrug and fail to answer.
“I love her passion, fearlessness, and carefree personality.”
Aw, how sweet.
“Who knew you had such kind thoughts about me? Okay, next question. The worst part about F1?”
“Hands down the fact that I don’t sleep in my bed for months at a time. I miss coming home.”
Ah, the not-so glam side of traveling the world.
“What you really miss is your gym and bubble baths.” I smile at my brother.
“Bath bombs don’t feel the same in a hotel bathtub.” He pouts.