Game on, Love (Pitch and Pits #1)

6

Raina

THE SOUND OF ENGINES revved low in the background, the steady hum settled into my bones, and the feeling of comfort ran through me. Even though the heat in Singapore clung to everything and made it humid, sticky and relentless—like the night air that was almost suffocating, it was the first time in days I had felt at ease.

As I sat by in the hospitality tent, trying to catch a minute before the drivers finished their last practice session for the day, my mind couldn’t help but go over the chaos of the last few days.

Moving in with Vedant may have felt like a lifeline in the moment, but once we reached the house, his body language suggested he was all but happy.

It took me until the next morning to realise the true reason why. I wanted to blame him, I really did, but he helped me when I was a minute away from breaking down when we both knew I didn’t need it.

Each time I wanted to ask why he had done it or why he was suddenly pushing us to fix whatever mess we had created, I hesitated.

A part of me wanted to learn the truth, but there was a tiny voice in my head that said not to. That somehow, there was a reality where we would end up breaking each other more than what we already had.

That terrified me more than anything.

The past couple of years, I had done so much to rebuild myself, done so much to protect myself. But living in their house had done more than just bring up the hurt I still carried, it brought a part of me that I kept hidden, the part that wasn’t tied to my work or my life. Being near them, when they didn’t much care for the things that were connected to our old life, it felt like I was drowning in a place I was once raised to survive in.

It wasn’t like I was ashamed of it or afraid of what people would think of me and judge me for my choices—I simply wanted no part of it.

The world saw me as just Raina, the woman who built a name for herself through hard work; every opportunity I had, every milestone I accomplished, it was all me.

Not Raina Patel, daughter of the cricket legend Vikram Patel or Raina Patel, granddaughter of the diamond mogul Rohan Singhania. They were two different worlds, both influential in their own ways, but neither were part of something I had built. I was born into it.

Even though some of my fondest memories of my childhood were the ones built in my grandparent’s house and their world of diamonds, now it was just a reminder of the people I had lost over the years.

On the days when Ma and Nani used to go for Ma’s treatment sessions, I’d always end up tagging along with Nanu to his office. It became this little routine; them to the hospital, me to the world of diamonds. It was always a bittersweet feeling, and Nanu’s office was like a whole different universe to me. Quiet, but always buzzing with something important. He used to let me sit in his big leather chair, pretending I was in charge while he worked, and sometimes, if the day was going well, he’d sneak me chocolates from his drawer.

He had this way of making everything seem like magic, even on the days when it hurt to go with him.

After Ma passed away, earlier than any of us expected, even with her condition—it changed everything. Nanu’s urge to show Dev, who was the ‘rightful heir’ to his kingdom before he passed, turned into an ultimatum rather than a choice.

Dev fit in the world of diamonds like it was crafted for him. Growing up, when Vedant and Rihaan had shown a proper interest in building a career in sports, Dev was the one who invested all of his time making sure he was ready to takeover the business the next chance he got. So, when his visits to India became frequent and longer, I knew better than to think it was just about learning the ropes. It was also about keeping an eye on me.

I was sixteen when Ma passed.

We had been living in India for almost three years by then, and I’d been right in the middle of a crucial school year and after that, I’d still decided to stay back in Delhi and finish school. It wasn’t the plan, but honestly, after what went down at Ma’s funeral, it wasn’t exactly like I had a choice.

My Nanu saw first-hand what losing Ma had done to me, and he’d been so patient with me in a way Dad never was. But, I still remember the day when I overheard them like it was yesterday. Nanu started with the idea of me staying back with them and moving back once I felt ready and before he could make an argument. Dad responded, “She’s settled here. Let her be.”

That was that.

It had stung—more than I wanted to admit. His tone was clipped as if ticking off a box on his list of things he needed to do before flying back to London. I often wondered if he was relieved, almost like he knew that I knew what he did and that he didn’t have to face me, even if it meant abandoning me.

I stayed in Delhi, right until I finished my schooling. After losing the three most important people in my life in the span of three years, I had no reason to stay. Ma had always said that London had a spark to it, the kind that made you feel like you were not alone. There was always a buzz, strangers from different parts of the world travelled for work and fun, someone was always in a hurry and if you noticed something was always happening around you. Yet, there was not a single ounce of judgement.

But before Nanu passed, he left me one last final gift—while Dev still held the majority of the shares and would go on to be the CEO, he left me a lifelong stake in the business. Enough to live comfortably, more than comfortably, if I chose to. But that wasn’t the gift—he gave me independence. So, when I moved back to the UK, I decided to stay in London instead of moving closer to the place I once called home.

The financial security allowed me to make choices that were only for me. No permissions needed, no strings attached. I chose where I lived, what I studied and, more importantly, who I wanted to be. There was a constant reminder of the price I had to pay to get that luxury, so now, I lived off what I made, from the work I did, from the brand I had built on my own terms. The money was still there, sure, but it wasn’t necessary. It was just a quiet safety net that I never spoke about, let alone used.

The noise from the pit lane had died down, and I watched the drivers make their way to the media pen one by one. I was technically ‘off-duty’, visiting as a spectator/content creator for the weekend.

Singapore had always held something special in my heart, and though it had stemmed from the fact that Ma used to love this track, my own love grew for it every time I visited the track.

As I fumbled with my camera in front of me, from the corner of my eye, I noticed the familiar colours of a racing suit.

I closed my eyes for a second and said a silent prayer.

Let him go to a sponsor or random person, please.

The last time I had seen Axel was the morning after everything had gone down. I paid minimal attention to him during his last shoot day and disappeared before he could stop me for any chats, which was probably for the best, considering I was still frustrated with him. Why did he have to get involved? Not talking about it was just working fine for us.

I sighed, realising he was indeed coming in my direction. When I still didn’t look up, he just stood in front of me, waiting for me to acknowledge his presence. I almost wanted to test out how long he would be patient.

“Rain,” Jerk. Couldn’t even bother to hide the amusement in his voice. “C’mon, you can’t stay mad at me forever.”

“You really want to test that theory with me?” I snapped, meeting his eyes.

Axel wore his usual cocky grin, the top half of his black-gold racing suit hung around his waist, a towel slung over his shoulder. His hair was damp with sweat, and his white fireproof stuck to him like it was his skin.

“There she is,” He smirked and dropped into the chair across from me, stretching out his legs as if he couldn’t care less. “I’m sorry, okay?”

I snorted, “I think you missed your calling as an actor. That was almost convincing.”

“I try.”

“Hope your ice bath is as warm as this apology,” I gave him my fakest smile, and his grin widened, completely unbothered.

“Look, you needed to talk to them, and you weren’t going to do it on your own; I just gave you all a nudge.”

“A nudge?” I repeated, incredulous. “You ambushed me.”

“It was for your own good,” he said, as if that justified everything. “Besides, you’ve spent enough time avoiding it, and they’re your family. You can’t hold a grudge forever.”

“You keep on saying that as if I’m not capable of doing that, but you’re forgetting stubbornness runs in our family.” I crossed my arms, not caring that I just went over our invisible boundary, and it may sound childish but he started it.

Axel gave me a pointed look, one that made my stomach drop slightly. “You’re kidding, right? Of course, I remember. Every race weekend is a fucking reminder. Which is the exact reason why I meddled.”

Well, damn .

I looked away, trying to hide how much his words hit home. He sighed and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

When he spoke again, his voice was much softer. “Look, Rain. I don’t know exactly what happened with you and your brothers, and I’m not saying I understand it, but you have to fix it. If not for their sake, for yours.”

I frowned, my eyes snapping back to his. “What do you mean for their sake?”

He hesitated, “I just mean that I know your brothers, and I know you. You put up walls like you’re building a fortress, and then you wonder why no one gets through,”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. “Don’t try to deny it.” He shook his head. “You have always kept them at arm’s length. And you know better than anyone that your brothers aren’t exactly the type to knock those walls down gently.”

I pressed my lips together, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. He wasn’t wrong, and I knew that, but hearing it from Axel made me feel like I had more of a part to play in the mess.

“It’s not just Vedant, though… It’s Dev and Rihaan. And the whole other… mess.” I muttered, still feeling defensive.

Axel leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Ah yes, Rihaan. He’s a charmer, isn’t he?”

I couldn’t help but smile; even though he was trying to fix things with my brothers, he was clearly annoyed at Rihaan for the other night, too.

I was… ignoring it. It wasn’t the best coping mechanism, but I had things to do and places to be and if he didn’t want to sort things out? His loss.

“Well, now that you’ve suddenly turned into a wise men, what’s your suggestion then?”

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Start with Vedant. Talk to him. Properly. No more of this half-hearted, ‘I’ll show up and be polite’ thing you’ve been doing.”

I sighed again, rubbing my temples. That was the last thing I wanted. But I couldn’t help but think that maybe he was right. Maybe I had been avoiding it for too long. And somewhere, the avoidance had stopped saving me from their reactions but instead had started to make things worse.

As the realisation settled in my chest, I felt a lump forming in my throat. I wasn’t ready to admit that, not yet.

I needed to change the topic.

“You’re such a pain in my ass, Beauman. I’m going to need much more than just an exclusive to balance the scales.” His grin widened as he leaned back in his chair.

“What do you want?”

“I don’t know yet, but when I do, I will call in that chip, and you can’t say no.” I narrowed my eyes, but he was barely moved.

“If that means we’re good, then deal.”

I sighed. “Yeah, we’re good.”

Axel stood up, holding the ends of his towel. “Good. Because I’m not letting you stay mad at me for too long; life’s too short.”

Ain’t that the truth.

I watched him walk away, shaking my head at how easily he could brush off conflict. I leaned back in my chair, staring at the busy paddock. Axel was right, annoyingly so. I couldn’t keep avoiding the issue with my brothers forever. But for now, I needed to take things one step at a time.

And for the first time in a while, I wasn’t entirely dreading what that next step might be.