2. Carter #3
The name hit me like a physical shove. I froze, my hand halfway to his.
I looked at him again, really looked at him this time, and the pieces clicked into place. The dark hair, the familiar line of the jaw—it was there, just softened, stripped of the weaponized arrogance that defined his brother.
“You’re Dominic’s brother?”
Luka’s hand stayed out, but his smile faltered just enough to let a flicker of something sharp through. He tilted his head, studying my reaction. “What’s that tone? You sound disappointed. Am I the 'budget' version? The loser brother who doesn't have the built-in hype?”
The sudden edge in his voice caught me off guard, but I didn't flinch. I wasn't about to start apologizing for having eyes.
“Actually,” I said, finally taking his hand and giving it a firm, grounded shake, “I was thinking you seemed suspiciously human compared to the masterpiece of arrogance I’ve come across recently. I didn't know the Valerios produced anything with a pulse that wasn't calibrated for a podium.”
Luka blinked, the defensive tension in his shoulders snapping. He let out a surprised, genuine bark of a laugh. “Suspiciously human. Not the worst reputation to have.”
“I'm serious,” I added, letting go of his hand. “You’re the first person with that last name I’ve met who hasn't tried to make me feel like I’m breathing their air by mistake.”
“Unfortunately,” he confirmed, his grin turning more relaxed, “I’m the second child. The one with hardware store-level horsepower compared to the supercharged dynasty. I’m the spare who actually shows up to class and offers to help fold his own laundry.”
I shook his hand, my brain re-mapping the hallway at the estate. I hadn't seen a single photo of him on those achievement walls. Not one. In a house where only prizes were worth displaying, I guess a son who didn't race was basically invisible.
“I didn't realize he had a brother on campus,” I said, my voice softer than I intended.
“Dominic lasted one semester before the podiums in Europe called his name and took priority,” Luka shrugged, though there was a flick of something sharp in the gesture. “He’s twenty-one and ‘busy.’ I’m nineteen and apparently the only one capable of folding a brochure without a pit crew.”
I let out a slow laugh, the tension in my chest easing just a fraction. “That sounds… incredibly exhausting.”
“It is,” he agreed warmly. “But hey, at least I get to work with someone who looks like they’d rather be anywhere else. It’s refreshing.”
I grinned. “Actually, I was thinking about how much I’d like to avoid your brother for the rest of my natural life, but you’re far too nice to be lumped into that.”
He clutched his chest, a genuine spark returning to his eyes. “A Valerio you don’t instinctively want to assault? I’ll take it. That’s a win in my book.”
He gestured to a stack of ribbons and glue guns. “Want to help me build the world’s fanciest swag bags? It’s either that or power cord duty, and duct tape and I are currently in a legal dispute.”
I rolled up my sleeves, feeling a strange, unexpected pull toward the ‘other’ Valerio. “Show me the glue guns, Luka. Let’s ruin some ribbon.”
For the next hour, we fell into a rhythm that actually felt... normal. Luka was surprisingly good at the mindless repetition of it, though he kept trying to engineer a faster way to fold the tissue paper, which usually resulted in him accidentally launching a gold-foiled mint across the table.
A few tables over, I caught sight of Sienna.
It was the best free entertainment I’d had in years.
She was staring at a roll of double-sided tape like it was a live explosive.
She’d try to peel a piece, get it stuck to one of her manicured nails, and then let out a huff of pure, concentrated tragedy before looking around to see if anyone was coming to rescue her.
“She’s going to lose a limb to that tape,” I muttered, nodding toward her without looking up from my own stack.
Luka glanced over, snorting as Sienna nearly knocked over a vase while trying to shake a sticky scrap off her thumb. “She once tried to help Dominic clean his visor after a practice run and ended up smearing it with expensive lip gloss. My father almost had an aneurysm.”
“And yet, here she is. Suffering for the cause,” I remarked, watching her finally give up and start scrolling through her phone behind a stack of boxes.
“The ‘cause’ being my brother’s attention span,” Luka corrected dryly. “It’s a full-time job with zero benefits and a very high turnover rate.”
High turnover rate. Him? Shocking. Truly.
I laughed, a real one this time. It wasn't about the Valerio name or school or the mess in the pool house. It was just the shared, weary humor of two people who knew exactly how much gravity that name pulled. I liked him, but in the way you like a fellow soldier in a trench you didn't ask to be in.
I picked up another ribbon, turning it once between my fingers before setting it down. I didn’t need to figure them out. I just needed to make it to the end without letting this place change me.