Page 34 of Forbidden Bride (Forbidden 1)
Here he is. Pietro lines up to me, his car roaring, but I come out of the curve and aim my front end straight at his side panel. My front end shakes as I fight for control, giving the impression that I’m losing the war with my car. But I’m not.
I know exactly what I’m doing.
Pietro, however, doesn’t know that. I can’t see his eyes as he turns to look out the windshield, my car a breath from his, threatening to ram him into the fence. At the last possible second, I turn the wheel and right my car. Manzo doesn’t get the memo that I was playing him and cranks off to the left. His car spins out of control, whipping backwards on the track as cars whizz past him. A laugh bubbles in my throat but I don’t let it loose. The winning line is just ahead, so I gun it, revving up the RPMs to a level that my crew will curse me out for later.
The car trembles, but she gives me all she’s got.
The checkered flag drops down as I fly across the finish.
Adrenaline floods my veins. I’m soaring so fucking high as I burst out of my car. My feet are barely on the ground when Pietro comes at me, pushing his way through the forming crowd with murder on his face. Saving him the trouble of extra steps, I meet him halfway and grin as he gets in my face.
“Bellanti!” His voice booms but it only makes me cockier. He’s a sore loser.
“Hey, man, nice race,” I say with a condescending smirk. He can kiss my ass.
“That was dirty!” he roars.
A retort dies on my lips. He’s pissed, and he’s not likely to cool down by the time he gets to Karina. Some of my satisfaction fades as I realize she could be in danger from his mood. All thanks to me. Fuck! Rather than egg him on, I do nothing but hold his gaze. But my unwillingness to take the bait only seems to make him angrier.
“Fucking Bellanti piece of shit,” he growls, jabbing a finger into the center of my chest.
Aw, hell no. He did not just do that. It’s the universal sign, and I can’t ignore it.
My lids flutter as I consider how to retaliate without escalating this to the moon. He moves to jab me again but one of his men grabs him around the chest and pulls him away.
“Not worth it…save it…”
“What’s the matter, Bellanti? Afraid to fight back?” Pietro spits on the ground next to my feet as his team drags him back.
I clench my jaw, willing myself not to lunge at him. I’d love nothing more than to knock this asshole into next week, to tell Pietro that not only did I win this race, but I won his woman, too, and that her orgasm was my good-luck charm—but I know from what Karina told me earlier that she would suffer if I did. And I don’t want Karina to pay.
The important thing, I tell myself, is that I beat him.
And that the taste of Karina is still on my lips.
