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.

Nico Park was not fate. He was a complication. A rival. The man who had somehow managed to get under my skin more than anyone else on the grid — both on the track and off it.

Harold raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my reaction, but he wisely did not push further.

I killed the engine completely and sat there for a second longer than necessary, trying to steady my breathing.

My heart was already racing like I was on a qualifying lap. Seeing his obnoxiously parked Valkyrie here felt like a deliberate provocation, even if it probably was not. Or maybe it was. With Nico, it was always hard to tell.

I grabbed my training bag from the back seat and stepped out of the Ferrari, slamming the door a little harder than necessary.

The Monaco sun felt too bright, the air too warm and Somewhere inside that building, Nico Park was probably already training, laughing, acting like nothing had happened between us.

And I was going to have to face him.

This day had just gone from bad to worse.

What the hell was he doing here? And why did he have to come when I was here?

The sight of Nico’s deep blue Aston Martin Valkyrie parked so carelessly in the training center lot had already put me on edge.

Now the realization that he was physically inside the same facility as me made my blood pressure spike. Of all the private training centers in Monaco, he had to choose this one today.

Does he know I am here?

"Oh, stop sulking, boy," Harold said with a teasing grin as he walked beside me. "This might be the chance for both of you to have a proper face-off before the season begins."

A face-off. Me and Nico on the same track, pushing each other to the limit. The idea sent a strange mix of adrenaline and irritation through me.

It would be crazy. Intense. Exactly the kind of challenge I both craved and dreaded right now.

I scoffed loudly but said nothing in reply.

I simply adjusted the strap of my training bag on my shoulder and kept walking toward the main simulator and fitness building where I was supposed to meet Dami and our trainer.

The last thing I needed was to give Harold more ammunition by admitting how much Nico’s presence unsettled me.

Dami spotted me first from across the open training area. He raised his arm and screamed my name with his usual high energy. "Alaric! Over here! Hey!"

I waved back at him, forcing a small smile onto my face.

Dami had always been the loud, enthusiastic one on the team, and today his excitement was a welcome distraction.

But as I started walking toward him and the trainer who stood nearby with timing equipment and data pads, my eyes caught someone else.

Nico fucking Park.

But he wasn’t alone.

Sophia Laurent stood right beside him, looking effortlessly elegant in athletic wear that still managed to look expensive and stylish.

She was laughing at something Nico said, her hand lightly touching his arm in a way that looked far too familiar.

Nico himself looked relaxed, dressed in training gear that showed off his tattooed arms, his messy dark hair slightly damp like he had already started a session.

The two of them together painted a perfect picture — the kind that would make headlines again.

My steps faltered for half a second. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

A sharp, ugly feeling twisted in my chest. Jealousy? Anger? Regret? Maybe all three. I had spent the past week trying to convince myself that the night in the Maldives had been a mistake, that Nico walking away had been for the best.

But seeing him here with Sophia — smiling, comfortable, like nothing had happened between us — made something dark and possessive flare up inside me.

Had he brought her here on purpose? Was this another way to spite me, just like he had claimed that night with the gala? Or was it real? The thought that he might actually be with her after what we had done made my stomach turn.

Harold followed my gaze and let out a low whistle. "Well... that’s one way to make things awkward."

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to keep walking toward Dami, refusing to let Nico see how much his presence affected me.

Professional. I had to stay professional.

The season was starting soon, and the last thing I needed was to let personal feelings interfere with my comeback.

But as I got closer, Nico’s eyes lifted and met mine across the training floor.

For a brief moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade. The air between us crackled with everything we were not saying.

Then he smiled. That motherfucker smiled as if he was enjoying his actions.

I looked away first, turning my full attention to Dami with a tight smile.

This was going to be a very long training session.