EPILOGUE - EMMA
The roar of engines pulses through my ribs.
Monaco's racetrack stretches out ahead. Asphalt shimmering under Mediterranean sun, bikes catching light, riders in leather moving with purpose. The air tastes like fuel, salt, and adrenaline.
Kai walks beside me in faded jeans and a fitted Team Blaze shirt, aviators on. He moves through the crowd without hesitation, and people step aside without being asked.
Damn him for making casual look like a magazine editorial.
His arm tightens around my waist as we weave deeper into the paddock. Press swarm every corner, cameras flashing, logos plastered on every surface.
Nobody looks twice at him out here. Just another fan in a branded shirt. Exactly how he likes it.
“Stay close,” he murmurs against my ear.
I press into his side. “Not going anywhere.”
“Emma! Kai!”
Logan's voice cuts through the noise. He's striding toward us, grinning wide.
He claps Kai on the shoulder hard enough to rock him. “Can you believe it? Blaze's big debut.”
Kai pulls him into a hug. “Couldn't miss it.”
“It's incredible, Logan,” I say.
He smiles, but his eyes flicker toward the track. “Come on, let me show you the garage. You need to meet the guys.”
The pit is organized chaos. Mechanics in choreographed bursts, tools swinging, headsets crackling. Motor oil and hot rubber thick in the air.
Logan walks us into Team Blaze's section. The bikes are lined up, gleaming. All sharp angles and polished chrome.
I run my hand along the chassis of the nearest one.
“They're beautiful,” I say.
Kai grins. “Bikes have been growing on you.”
“Exposure therapy,” I correct. “There's a difference.”
Logan chuckles and gestures toward two men in sleek racing suits. “Emma, meet our champions. Maxime Marchand and Gabriel Lopez.”
Ridiculously good-looking, both of them. Tall, carrying that quiet intensity of professional athletes who know exactly what they're about to do.
Maxime's smirk is mischievous. Gabriel answers with a sharp nod.
“Gentlemen, this is Emma Sinclair, the marketing mastermind behind our launch campaign.”
“And my girlfriend.” Kai's arm around my shoulders tightens.
Logan winks at me. “No one here is stealing your girl, chill.”
Kai grumbles something that sounds like, “They can try.” Logan ignores him.
The riders offer warmer smiles, but their minds are already on the track.
A horn blares across the paddock.
Logan straightens, and the grin drops.”That's our cue. See you later.” He disappears into the controlled frenzy of pre-race preparations without a backward glance.
Kai turns to me. “Ready for some heart-stopping action?”
“Let's see what this team can do.”
We find our seats in the VIP box. Kai places a pair of bulky headphones over my head, adjusts them gently.
Ethan snorts from his seat beside us. “Where are my earmuffs, lover boy?”
Kai flips him off.
Then the engines roar to life.
The countdown. Lights flashing.
Green.
The bikes explode off the line in a blur of color and sound. Even through the headphones, it's deafening. I grip Kai's hand as Team Blaze surges forward.
The riders lean into the first turn, bodies inches from the asphalt. My breath catches.
Maxime cuts through a tight cluster of competitors, slipping between them like they're standing still.
“Did you see that?” I squeeze Kai's arm.
He nods. “Really good form.”
The laps stack up. I lean forward, fingers white on the railing. The riders angle so low their knees nearly scrape the tarmac. Every overtake tightens something in my chest.
Then a gasp ripples through the crowd.
A rival rider loses control out of a turn. His bike fishtails, rubber screaming.
Maxime swerves. Hard. For one horrible second, our rider is sideways, tires spitting dust, the barrier too close.
I grab Kai's arm.
His hand covers mine. Steady.
“It's okay,” he says. He's right.
Maxime corrects and finds the line, using the momentum to thread past two riders in a move that pulls a roar from the stands.
I exhale, shaky. “I think I just aged ten years.”
“Welcome to racing, love.”
The crowd surges to its feet.
I squint at the board. Third and fourth.
“They did it.” My fingers dig into his arm. “Honey, they placed.”
He slings an arm over my shoulders. “Not bad for a first race.”
Down in the pit, the air still crackles.
Logan is in the middle of it, arms crossed, talking to the head engineer with a focus that borders on surgical.
“Good work,” he says, clapping the man's back. “That second pit stop cost us, though. We need to shave time there if we want to improve next round.”
Kai steps forward and pulls Logan and Ethan into a hug.
“Team Blaze is officially on the map.” His voice is rough.
I love seeing them together. Logan’s absence has been a gap, even if Kai wouldn’t admit it.
Near the edge of the pit, a cluster of grid girls lingers after their walkabout. Long legs, designer smiles, sun-kissed skin under the overhead lights. Several of them circle closer, eyes fixed on Logan.
A brunette in red tilts her head, bites her lip. Her friend whispers something behind manicured fingers. Both giggle.
Logan doesn't look up. He's pointing at something on the engineer's tablet, arguing about telemetry data, completely unaware he's being hunted.
Kai's eyebrows lift. “Jesus,” he mutters.
I grin. “Shocked?”
“They could be naked,” Ethan says, “and he'd still be talking about tire degradation.”
A woman walks toward the Team Blaze section with a boy beside her. He's maybe twelve, gangly and bouncing on the balls of his feet, wearing a Blaze cap that's slightly too big for his head. His eyes go wide as he takes in the garage.
She's striking. Long dark hair, warm brown eyes, the kind of face that belongs on the big screen. She's wearing a Team Blaze polo and flat sneakers that have seen mileage. The only woman within fifty feet of Logan Parker who isn't looking at him like he's on a menu.
“Logan!” The boy breaks into a run.
Logan's head snaps up.
He lights up.
“Hey, little man!” He catches the boy with one arm, ruffling his hair. “What'd you think? Be honest.”
The kid's words tumble over each other. “Third place in your first race! Max's overtake in the chicane was insane!”
Logan crouches to his level. No trace of the man who was barking at an engineer thirty seconds ago.
“Good eye,” Logan says, nodding seriously. “The overtake was instinct, but the engine held up. You spotted that?”
The boy grins so hard his cap shifts. “I’ve been following on the app.”
The woman reaches them, slightly out of breath. “Luca, I told you not to sprint off.”
“Sorry, Mari.” He doesn't look sorry at all.
Logan straightens. “Marianna.” He lifts his sunglasses onto his head, leans toward her. Voice deeper than usual. “Glad you guys made it.”
“Congratulations.” She offers a reserved smile. “Luca has been counting down the days.”
“So have I,” Logan says. His eyes stay on her a beat longer than necessary before the boy tugs his sleeve, already firing off another question about fuel loads.
The moment passes.
I glance at Kai. He's watching too, brow furrowed, like he's trying to puzzle something out.
Ethan catches my eye and gives the smallest shrug. No idea.
“Who’s that?” I ask him.
“Why? Worried you're not the first number in his speed dial anymore?”
I stick my tongue out at him, making Kai laugh.
“You two deserve each other,” Ethan says, walking away towards the riders.
Kai wraps his arms around me from behind. “Should we go back to the hotel?”
“Yes, the heat is making me sleepy.”
Later that night, I stand in front of the open window in our suite. Monaco's skyline casts golden streaks across the water. I'm tired but buzzing, too wired to settle.
He notices.
Instead of the bedroom, he takes my hand and leads me to the terrace.
Cool air against my skin. The view of the city stretched out below, glittering and quiet.
A telescope sits by the railing. Its silver body gleams under the moonlight.
“What's this?”
His lips curve. “Take a look.”
I bend to the eyepiece. Stars scattered across the darkening sky, more than I've ever seen from a city.
“See that bright one?” His breath is warm against my ear. “Just above the horizon.”
I nod, lost in it.
Behind me, rustling.
“Emma.”
I turn.
Kai is on one knee.
A ring box open in his hands. The diamond catches starlight, but it's the band that stops me. Tiny diamonds scattered across the gold like distant stars. The metal swirling faintly like trails of a constellation.
“Kai...” My voice breaks.
His jaw is tight. Fingers grip the box a fraction too hard.
He's nervous. Kaiden Rhodes, who stared down his father's empire, is nervous. For me.
“This ring...” he starts, and his voice catches. Clears his throat.
“I had a speech.” A rough exhale. “I'm looking at you, and I can't remember a single word of it.”
My hand presses against my chest. I feel my heartbeat in my fingertips.
He looks down at the ring, then back up. His eyes are glassy.
“My parents' marriage was a contract. A transaction with terms and clauses and exit strategies.” He swallows. “I grew up thinking that's what it was. That love was just a nicer word for leverage.”
His voice drops.
“Then you walked into my life and blew that apart.”
A tear slides down my cheek.
His grip tightens on the box. “You didn't try to fix me. You just stayed. Even when I made it hard. You showed me what it looks like when someone chooses you. Not for what you have. Not for what you can do. Just you.”
His breath shakes, but his eyes are clear. Deep indigo set on my face.
“I want to choose you back. Every morning. For the rest of my life.”
I'm crying. Properly. Not the pretty kind.
“Will you marry me?”
I nod. Can't speak. Nod harder.
“Yes.” It comes out broken and fierce. “Yes, Kai.”
His whole body exhales. He barely gets the ring on my finger before I pull him up, arms around his neck, mouth on his.
The kiss is messy and impatient, tasting of salt and champagne. My hands fist the front of his shirt. His fingers curl into my hair. His heartbeat slams against my chest.
We break apart. Breathless. Grinning like idiots.
I laugh, wipe my eyes. “For someone who forgot his speech, that was pretty good.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “I always deliver.”
The ring catches moonlight, sparkling against my skin.
I press my palm flat against his chest. Right over the compass. Right over my name, inked into his skin.
“You’re my home,” I whisper.
He covers my hand with his. Heartbeat is fast and strong under my palm.
“Are you happy?”
I lift my head to look at him. “Life-changingly yes.”