Chapter Twelve #3
‘Remind me…’ he murmured.
This was the emotional equivalent of being slathered in volcanic-hot wax. ‘You said that winning was everything, that nothing else mattered.’
He lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. She was normally slow to anger, but his small, too-casual dismissal of her question annoyed her. Or was she really angry that, while she’d been falling for him, his priority was winning his fourth championship?
Had she seen what she wanted to see? The thought ratcheted up her temper.
‘Do you believe nothing else is important? You’ve completed your five charity events, Taz, and raised millions for various charities.
You’ve made a discernible difference in people’s lives, and that’s also worth celebrating,’ she protested, desperate for his reassurance.
Was she looking for validation, for him to admit there was more to life than the De Rossi Racing team?
Because if he couldn’t, then what did that mean for her?
It meant she’d made no impact on his life, that she was another fleeting presence, another speed bump hampering his race to victory.
She’d felt like that before—too many times to count.
Her entire life, she’d battled the fear that she was unworthy of being seen or valued.
She wanted to matter to him—not because of what she could do for him but because of who she was. Because she was Millie.
But how much longer could she keep hoping, keep believing that she might be the exception to his ironclad rule, when everything about him screamed that she wasn’t?
He turned around slowly and resumed his same stance, his other shoulder pressed into the wall.
‘I stand by what I said. Winning my fourth championship is all that matters, the only thing on my mind. Nothing, not my reputation or me playing ambassador for those charities or—’ he hesitated, and in her mind she filled in the missing, unspoken word.
He’d been about to say you and pulled back.
He looked down into his empty glass. ‘Winning is everything, Millie. It has to be.’
His words were the confirmation of all her fears.
Her temper spiked and revved, fast and high.
With her parents she normally backed down and away, never able to find the words to hit back, to defend herself.
But tonight, the words were searing her tongue, climbing over each other to be released.
How dare he dismiss her and what they’d done, her hard work and the time they’d shared?
She’d shared her body with him, told him about Ben, cried in his arms. He was pretending that none of that meant anything.
That she didn’t mean anything to him. She wouldn’t stand for it.
Not today. Not anymore.
‘No. There is more to life than winning, Taz,’ she announced, pushing herself to her feet, emboldened by the surprise in his eyes and the shock on his face.
‘Like what?’ he drawled.
‘Like making a difference, using your influence and status to shine a light on causes that need to be in the spotlight!’
He released a dismissive scoff. ‘Like my brother did? Yes, he was Saint Alex in public and the devil in private.’
She waited for him to say more, and when he didn’t she threw up her hands in frustration. ‘You can’t throw out statements like that and not explain!’
‘I can. And don’t raise your voice to me.’
His soft command sent her temper rocketing.
‘Either explain or stop demeaning your brother.’ Still nothing.
Millie hauled in a deep breath and her courage.
She couldn’t back down now. ‘Then, you leave me with no choice but to believe you are the insecure younger brother who can never keep up. That’s why you act out, right? Because you can’t compete.’
God, she ached. She knew that wasn’t true, and every bit of her wanted him to let down those shields, to get real, to engage. But his stoic, untouchable force field stayed in place, and she wanted to howl.
But shouting would only cause him to shut down, and she needed to break through.
She needed to keep her wits because, after all, she was going to war for his soul.
A war she’d probably lose, but she couldn’t help herself.
She was done staying quiet, hanging back, swallowing her opinions and her feelings.
‘We’ve accomplished something amazing, and I am furious that you can dismiss me and the work we’ve done together so easily. I’ve worked long, hard hours to rehab your reputation—’
‘I never asked you to do it for free. You did get a million pounds out of the deal.’
How dare he make her feel so cheap. She sucked in a deep breath, then another. ‘The world does not revolve around you, Taz. People work really hard, I’ve worked really hard to—’
‘Actually, it does, Millie. I’ve deliberately created a life and business that does. Racing is my world.’
Her shoulders slumped. He only ever looked at life, at people, in relation to how they affected his ambitions, race standings and the championship he was so desperate to win.
He had no desire or intention to make space for her or anything outside of racing.
His career and business were all he cared about.
That was his choice. All she could control was her reaction.
And it was time to face reality.
She’d been pushed aside, made to feel like she was insignificant long enough.
He might be an in-front-of-the-cameras man and she a behind-the-scenes woman, but she was still consequential, she was important.
She had things to do and say and a life to live.
His world might revolve around the De Rossi brand, but hers didn’t.
She wanted something more, something real, a complete man, not someone who would only share a sliver of his life, mind and soul. It wasn’t enough.
She had to get out now, while she could. Before she slid back into believing that her place would always be standing in the shadow of someone more brilliant than her.
Millie pushed back her shoulders and gathered the tattered remains of her courage. ‘If that’s the way you feel, then I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you that I can’t do this anymore, Taz.’
His eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of her words, to figure out where she was going with this.
‘I’m resigning. I will stay until after the race tomorrow, but on Monday, I will no longer be running your PR or acting as your press officer.
Or posing as your girlfriend. If you don’t do something asinine, like losing your temper or hooking up with Phoebe again, your reputation should hold steady. ’
He jerked at her words and rubbed his hand over his face. ‘Look, I admit that we both said some things—’
She held up her hand. ‘Don’t… This isn’t a negotiation, Taz. I’m done. We’re done.’
‘Millie—’
‘I’m going to sleep in the bedroom, Taz.
You can sleep alone and dream about the race.
Maybe you’ll consider what I said before, that you are racing against a ghost.’ Gathering up her dignity, Millie headed for the bedroom, cradling her battered heart.
At the last moment, she stopped and turned back.
‘And in case you don’t know this…the ghost will always win.’