Chapter 12
Fia
My sister was running late, which, in hindsight, turned out to be a blessing.
She had texted Luca simply saying, ‘crisis.’ That could mean anything from a broken nail to a major tyre fire at the track, knowing Everly. But then she followed her text up by telling us to continue our night without her.
There was a time I would’ve gotten that text.
Luca’s shoulders dipped slightly, but he rested his arm on the empty chair beside him, and he smiled at our waiter, ordering her a calamari. Her favourite.
He didn’t let Ever’s presence truly get him down. Luca Mendes was basically my third brother. He was at every holiday, every birthday, every one of my sister’s meltdowns.
A thought startled me into putting my glass down.
He was one of my five brothers.
I stretched my neck — uncomfortable in my own skin — at the thought of Zoltán being my brother.
I was as related to him as I was to Everly.
My stomach twisted.
Every time I saw him, I relived the jolt of my body as he pressed into me. I heard the rasp of his filthy, accented words in my ear. I remembered the soft sweep of his fingers… and the taste of his cock in my mouth.
Not exactly the kind of thoughts you wanted to have at family gatherings.
My dad lifted his glass of red wine against Luca’s water and congratulated him on his fastest lap, while I mumbled a ‘congrats’ and pulled at a loose thread of my napkin.
I let them talk. Dad had an operation on his hip — too much ‘jiving,’ apparently — and wasn’t as active as he had been. Luca was taking my brother, Ryder, to the track in Silverstone next week.
He wanted to be a racer like his dad had been.
But with his diabetes, it would be a challenge.
It was his dream.
Here I was grumbling about a boy while living mine — and jeopardising it.
I shook my head, tsking to myself and pulled the thread free, holding it between my finger and thumb, looking at my miniature destruction. One tug, and everything fell apart.
Luca tapped my trainer with his, and I looked up to his raised brows.
I shrugged, answering his silent question.
Because I didn’t know if I was okay.
Our starters came, and Luca asked for Ever’s food to be kept warm while we waited for her arrival.
At least while we ate, there wasn’t pressure to talk. Luca avoided the truth easily, protective of my secrets. Because I hadn’t told my dad much lately.
Dad filled the silence while I chewed every mouthful a hundred times. He had never been much of a talker before, but retiring and going on adventures with Mum had relaxed him. He had lots of stories to tell.
“When you’re back for my birthday, we’ll have to get a day on the track booked in,” he said. “That way Ryder can show you how he’s improved, Fia.”
I nodded and dipped my final ring into the spicy garlic aioli, only to freeze.
Somehow, I knew.
The door directly opposite us, past ten or so tables, opened.
And in walked three figures. The restaurant was dark, mostly lit by low-hanging light fixtures and candles.
I only needed his silhouette to know he was there.
Of course, he was. Even without seeing his eyes, I could feel them locked on mine.
And I couldn’t look away.
They stepped forward. Zolt lingered in the shadows, but the waiter talked to Imre, and I breathed in deeply, remembering to fill my lungs.
Dad didn’t know Imre worked here. Dad knew nothing of the last few weeks.
Because I was having the best time ever at my new job, it was everything I’d ever wanted it to be.
But when the waiter gestured for them to follow, Imre looked up at me, waved a dismissive hand at the waiter, and made a beeline for our table.
Shit.
In my head, I scrambled to stand and usher them away before Dad could see, but my body remained frozen, the calamari still in my hand, half dipped into the pot.
And they were still coming, Zolt trudging behind his brother and stepfather.
Dad’s throat cleared. The napkin hit the plate with a soft thud.
And I knew this wasn’t about to go down well.
Luca looked over his shoulder at them and sighed, shaking his head. “Good thing Ever’s not here.”
Because she’d unleash holy hell.
Dad gave me a sympathetic look, placing his hand on mine over the table.
When I should be looking at him with sympathy.
“Hello, Zsófia,” Imre said in English and offered me an awkward smile. “I heard you were out for dinner.”
“Yes.” I dropped the calamari and wiped my hands on my napkin, like that might undo the mess I’d made.
“What are you doing here?” Dad asked, eyeing Zoltán and Benedek, but it was clear who he was talking to.
“It was meant to be a family dinner. But Zsófia already had plans,” Imre said.
“Family…?” Dad looked between Luca and me, but Luca had his back to us.
“Yes, we’re a blended family now,” Imre said, his voice upbeat. “We were all at the wedding last month… didn’t— didn’t Fia tell you?”
Zoltán stood tall behind them, unreadable—but his eyes never left me. I only gave myself a second to take him in before staring back down at my plate, nowhere near my dad.
But the silence made me wince into looking up at my dad’s narrowed, betrayed eyes. “I thought MotoBike had a race this weekend. So what are you doing here?”
“I joined Veltar.”
Dad’s brows pinched together as he looked at me with a startled, pained expression.
My team.
I should have told him.
“Go to your table, Imre,” Dad demanded and took a large sip of his wine, feigning ease.
His body was rigid, barely restrained. I knew what that posture meant — he was trying to contain his anger and decide just how to expel it.
Luca shot me a glance. This one asked if he should intervene. I shook my head.
“Dad, I didn’t know how to explain it—”
“You don’t need to apologise to me,” Imre said and crossed his arms. “It’s not your responsibility.”
“She was talking to me,” my dad said, closing his eyes before exhaling deeply. “Her Dad. The man who raised her for the last fifteen years.”
Oof.
“Enough,” I said, but it was weak, barely loud over the clanking of cutlery.
I still felt Zolt’s eyes trained on me. But he was the only one who paid me attention, because my dad and Imre were still throwing jabs, and Luca was watching Benedek, ready to strike.
If I thought any of this was going to go smoothly, I was deep in the land of delulu.
“I didn’t have much choice when your wife abducted—”
“Abducted?” Dad snarled and stood, the table jerking forward.
“She say enough,” Zolt bit out, voice deep. His eyes met mine for the first time in the low lights, and I swallowed.
He looked deep into my soul.
“You weren’t abducted, Fia,” Dad said, and he reached across his plate to me.
“Nope,” I snapped, stepping out from the table and waving a hand at him. “I’m not doing this. Don’t follow me.”
They continued, voices rising, and I heard Zolt’s deep voice cut through their noise, “She say don’t follow. Not a suggestion.”
I pulled my phone out of my bag and immediately called my mum. But with the time difference between Japan and England, she was still asleep.
I sat on the curb outside the restaurant, feet dangling into the car park, saying in Portuguese, “Hey Mum, it’s me.
I know it’s early, I just… god, I need to come clean.
Imre’s working at Veltar with me and I, er, I…
Well, Everly and I went to his wedding last month.
Dad just found out and… fuck, I’m sorry.
I know I should have told you both, but I didn’t want Dad to be upset that we were back in touch and…
and I just wanted someone to hear me say I’m sorry.
Out loud. I’m…” I breathed in deeply and swiped my nose with the back of my hand.
“I’m going to head back to the hotel now.
Can you tell him I’m sorry? He looked at me like he didn’t know me, and I—I can’t do that right now.
” I picked at my nails, my stomach rumbling because, of course, I’d prepped myself mentally for a mighty burger. “Love you, Mum. I’m sorry.”
I sat there looking out at the darkening night, the streetlights blurring behind my tears as I rotated my phone between my hands.
I hadn’t even told her the worst part. Because I couldn’t tell anyone.
Because saying it out loud might make it real.
And I was not ready to face that shitstorm. I was happy living obliviously, the anxiety only ceasing my heart in small moments that I tried to brush off, no matter how consistent they were becoming.
My head was in my hands when my name was called.
I stayed still because the shitstorm was right beside me now.
His shoes scuffed the road as he sat beside me. “It’s settled down in there,” Zolt told me. “Imre and Benedek are at their table, as far as I could get them from Cris.”
I lifted my head to look at him. He surprised me often. How gentle and soft he could be versus how rough, dirty, and brittle he was with everyone. But mostly me. I got both extremes — as if he wasn’t sure whether to shield or ruin me.
He didn’t touch me. He just sat there, close enough to reach out if I needed him.
I stabbed my palms with my nails.
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
“Your burger is at the table,” he said, looking out to the street. “If you want to go back in there, I promise to keep Imre away.”
For once, it wasn’t Imre I didn’t want to see. I couldn’t face my dad and the pain I’d caused.
“I’m alright out here. I’ll book a taxi.”
He shook his head. “I’ll drive you.”
I took a deep breath. “I don’t want to owe you.”
“And you won’t. I don’t hold acts for bribes. Letting me spend time with you is really you doing me the favour.”
I laughed, but his expression remained sombre, halting my humour.
He was serious.
“I’m not having sex with you in your car.”
“I’m not having sex with you,” he said, voice firm. “And it’s a bike, not a car.”
My head inched back. Okay, ouch.
“So you accept that we shouldn’t…?”
He raised a brow for me to finish my question.
“That we can’t… you know? That we aren’t anything?”