THIRTY-FIVE
Aliya
PRESENT
The grandstands at the Davis Grand Circuit are packed with people, either eagerly waiting for the competition to start or chatting excitedly. The stench of gasoline and burnt rubber fills the air, mixing with the earthy smell of the surrounding vegetation.
Damian, Shin, and Raelyn are sitting next to me, but my focus is on finding Milan among the people involved in the race preparations.
“He’s going to kill me. Rip me to pieces,” Shin mutters paranoidly. “Skin me alive.”
Damian laughs and throws his arm around Shin’s shoulder. “Relax, ShinShin. Daddy’s gonna protect you.”
Shin grimaces and pulls away. “Stay the hell away from me, Reynolds.”
“Oh, come on, Shinichiro. Can’t you have a little fun for once?”
“This isn’t funny, you jerk. Milan’s going to be furious if he finds out. You know as well as I do how he is.”
Damian lets out another booming laugh. “And that’s exactly why we’re doing this. To piss him off.”
I glance between the two of them.
They might’ve brought me here, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch the race with them, does it?
“You guys are so childish. Why do I always have to deal with you idiots?” Raelyn lets out an annoyed groan, voicing my thoughts.
Shin’s icy glare shifts to her. “And what are you even doing here? No one invited you.”
“I’m here because I damn well want to be, Shin-boring-ichiro. And I can sit wherever the hell I like.”
“You’re always looking for a fight, aren’t you?”
Raelyn shrugs. “Only if you start one.”
God, where have I gotten myself into?
Enjoying the tension between them, Damian chimes in with a grin, “Shinichiro and his nemesis. A match made in hell.”
Both of them abruptly go silent, directing their irritation at Damian. “Shut the fuck up.”
He laughs heartily at their synchronized reaction. “Oh, was that fate?”
Shin looks like he’s about to explode, while Raelyn clenches her fists. “You’re really pushing your luck, Damian.”
“What can I say? I live for it.” Damian leans back in his seat. “What about you, Servant? You’re awfully quiet today.”
“What?” I hadn’t expected to be dragged into the conversation.
“And here I thought you’d fallen asleep. Come on, you must have an opinion about their love quarrel.”
“Damian, I swear to God-”
He interrupts Shin. “What? Are you going to swear in public? Not very gentlemanly of you.”
Shin’s about to snap back, but Raelyn pipes up. “Oh, please. Don’t pretend you actually care about being a gentleman."
As they continue arguing, my gaze drifts back over the crowd.
“That must be Dallas’ baby sister.” Raelyn gestures with her head at a girl making her way up the stairs to the stands.
Isabelle Dallas. Tristan’s younger sister.
Her long, dark curls cascade in elegant waves over her shoulders, framing a delicate face with rosy lips. A large white bow is tied around her head, adding a touch of quirky innocence to her appearance. Her slender figure is wrapped in a blush pink dress that clings perfectly to her shape.
She has changed so much. But it makes sense. The last time I saw her, she was only five years old.
As Isabelle takes her seat in the stands, people start to turn in her direction. Her appearance draws plenty of attention.
“Looks more like a doll than Dallas’ sister, if you ask me,” Shin adds.
Raelyn shakes her head. “That’s because she’s practically adored by everyone in the Upper East Side. Especially by her brother Tristan.”
I glance at Damian, who remains unusually quiet. His gaze is fixed on her, but his expression is unimpressed. His hands are folded in his lap, and his eyes are glued with a strange seriousness to Isabelle’s back.
As if he’s flipped a switch, his familiar smirk returns to his lips. “Speaking of adoration, don’t you think she’s pretty cute?”
Raelyn looks at Damian with an arched eyebrow. “She’s only fifteen.”
Damian bites his lip. “Age is just a number. And eighteen isn’t that big of a gap.”
Shin stares at him, his expression darkening. “She’s a kid, asshole.”
“Relax, ShinShin. She’s practically legal.”
A lewd glint is in Damian’s eyes, and I know he’s not joking.
“You’re about to go to college, and she’s still a minor. Do you realize that?”
“As if that’s ever stopped me. I like younger girls. They’re always so eager and not whiny,” he explains.
My expression twists at his words. As far as I know, Damian is a whole list of things. Arrogant, narcissistic, sick … But this? He has no boundaries.
“And if it gets under Dallas’ skin, that’s just an added bonus. That’ll work in Shane’s favor,” he adds.
“You’re more than fucked up, D.”
The loudspeakers announce the start of the race, and the crowd erupts in cheers. I force myself to shake off the tension and focus on the race.
Maybe I should warn Tristan later that Damian has his sights set on his little sister. After all, I know what kind of dirty facade lurks behind that deceptive smile.
My gaze wanders anxiously to the entrance of the track, from which Milan and Tristan should emerge any minute now. The weather adds to the tension – a cool breeze sweeps across the racetrack, and the sky is overcast, as if a storm is brewing.
Milan and Tristan come through the entrance, and the crowd’s cheers grow louder.
I feel my heart race as my eyes fall on Milan’s imposing figure in his tight-fitting racing suit. His muscular physique is emphasized in a way that makes him look like a living statue.
“Shane!” Damian calls out loudly, and Shin curses him.
Milan scans the crowd until his eyes find my position in the stands. His expression changes in a split second as he locks eyes with me.
It’s as if all the noise around me fades away.
His jaw is clenched tight, a telltale sign of his annoyance and displeasure. Yet despite his obvious irritation, he can’t bring himself to break eye contact.
I furrow my brows as I remember why I came here in the first place. Anger bubbles to the surface, reminding me of the weeks he went without contacting me. All the frustration and confusion come alive, and I want to confront him right now, right here.
But then my gaze flickers to the person next to him – Tristan, who is chatting with his sister in the front row.
When I shift my focus back to Milan and see that his eyes are still locked on me, a mischievous thought crosses my mind.
I want to confuse him just as he always does to me.
I take a deep breath, gather all my acting skills, and let out a ridiculously exaggerated cheer. “Come on, Tristan! You got this!”
Shin sharply inhales beside me while Damian bursts into loud laughter.
But my gaze stays fixed on Milan, whose face darkens like a light switch flipped off.
There’s a visible twitch in his jaw before he adopts an indifferent expression. His lips press into a straight line, but his eyes pierce me.
His cold facade hides the emotions he’s trying to control. The realization that I’m getting under his skin fills me with a smug satisfaction.
Abruptly, he turns away from me and strides toward the starting line, where the other riders are already lined up. Tristan gives me a smile and a wave before following Milan to get to his own motorcycle.
With a paranoid look, Shin turns to Damian. “What did she just do?”
“That’s why it was a good idea to bring Servant along. She knows how to provide great entertainment.” Damian winks at me.
Raelyn’s eyes burn on my skin, but when I look at her, she turns away from me.
“Good idea, my ass. He’s gonna fucking kill me!” Shin exclaims.
Somehow, I feel alive, almost liberated. My own little rebellion against the rejection and ignorance I’ve faced from Milan.
The engines roar to life as the machines take their positions, ready for the start. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as the race finally begins.
All I focus on is the competition, but deep down, I know the consequences of my actions will catch up with me later.