Chapter 1 #2
He didn’t say anything for a moment, just shoved his hands into his pockets and studied me like I was a particularly difficult pit stop.
“Alright. First question, have you called Selene yet?”
Selene Voss, head of PR for Aedris Motorsport. She was ruthless, sharp as hell, and terrifying in a way that made rival team bosses stammer when she walked into a room.
I sighed, pressing my fingers against my temple. Calling Selene was at the absolute bottom of my to-do list. Somewhere below figuring out how to hold a baby without breaking her and not having a full-scale mental breakdown in the next five minutes.
But it couldn’t be avoided. Nothing in my career, not a single sponsorship deal, press conference, or off-track appearance happened without approval. She controlled the narrative. She told me what to say, when to say it, and how to look while I said it.
This was a fucking PR disaster waiting to happen.
“I will.”
Liam made a noise that immediately pissed me off. Half laugh, half scoff.
“It can wait until the morning.”
His brows shot up. “Oh yeah. Brilliant idea. Sleep on it. Wake up refreshed. Maybe have a smoothie. Meanwhile, some prick with a long-lens camera gets a shot of you holding a baby, and the internet implodes before you’ve even had your coffee.”
I scowled. “Who the hell is outside my house at this time of night?”
Liam shrugged. “Dunno. But are you willing to bet your entire career that it’s no one?”
Fuck.
He crossed his arms. “You think I enjoy being the responsible one here?”
“That’d be a first.”
“And yet,” he said, “you’re forcing me into the role.”
I dropped my head back against the sofa, staring at the ceiling.
Fucking hated it when he was right.
Jaw tight, I pulled out my phone. I scrolled through my contacts, stomach sinking deeper with every name I passed. I’d have to tell my team principal tomorrow. Wouldn’t that be a fantastic conversation?
Liam sat forward. “Go on. Rip off the plaster.”
I shot him a look but pressed call anyway.
“Griffin.” She answered on the second ring, her voice cool and clipped. “I assume you’re not calling me after hours for a friendly chat.”
I hesitated, gripping the phone tighter. “No.”
“What happened?”
I stared down at Hazel, her tiny fingers curled into my t-shirt. My throat constricted. “Someone left a baby on my doorstep with a note saying she’s mine.”
Selene didn’t respond. No sharp inhale, no shocked silence. Just a long, long pause where I knew she was calculating.
Finally, she asked, “Are you sure she’s yours?”
My jaw tightened. “The note was addressed to me.”
“You and I both know that’s not the same as proof.”
She sighed. I could hear the gears turning in her head, the ruthless efficiency of a woman whose job was to stop PR nightmares before they happened.
“Have you spoken to the mother?”
I hesitated. “No.”
“Then you need to—”
“I’m not calling her. Not yet.”
“Alright. Who is she?”
My stomach twisted. “That’s not relevant.”
“It’s entirely relevant.”
“I’m handling it.”
“Griffin.” Her voice was all steel now. “If this gets out, the press will go digging. I need to be ahead of it. That means I need to know who she is.”
I gritted my teeth. “You don’t.”
She let out a slow, forced breath, the kind that usually meant she was trying not to murder someone through the phone. “You are making my job significantly harder.”
“Yeah, well,” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face. “Welcome to my life.”
Selene ignored that. “How many people know?”
“Just me and Liam. Jace saw her, but he won’t talk.”
“Good. Keep it that way. Under no circumstances can you be seen in public with that child.”
I closed my eyes. “Figured.”
“If this leaks before we’re ready, your career takes a hit. The board will not be pleased, and the sponsors—” She sighed. “Some might not care. Some might decide they don’t want to be associated with a driver caught up in an unexpected paternity drama.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Yeah, I got that part.”
“Do not leave the house. Do not take her anywhere. If she needs anything, send someone else.”
I glanced at Liam. He spun my house keys around his finger, looking thoroughly entertained. When he’d gotten his hands on my keys, I couldn’t say.
“Liam’s already on it.”
Selene hummed. “I’ll start drafting statements, but we don’t release anything until we know how we’re handling this.”
I didn’t like the way she said that. “Handling this?”
“Are you keeping her?”
I looked down at Hazel again. She was still asleep, still so small.
She didn’t know me. Didn’t know how fucked this situation was.
Didn’t know I wasn’t cut out for this, that my life ran on precision and control, not 2 AM meltdowns and nappies.
I could keep a car on the edge at 200 mph, but I had no idea how to hold something as small and fragile as her.
Izzy couldn’t handle the shit show. She hated the cameras, the attention, the circus that came with our world.
The first chance she got, she’d slip out the back of events.
If the press found out she’d not only slept with her brother’s biggest rival but abandoned a baby on his doorstep, they’d eat her alive.
Dig into every inch of her life. Twist everything until the truth didn’t matter.
And Jesse? Fuck.
If he found out, I was dead. No question. He already hated me, and this would turn it nuclear. Just another excuse to put me in the ground.
But if I didn’t keep her, then what?
Foster care? Some distant relative I’d never met? A couple looking for a payday instead of a daughter?
I knew what that was like.
Being a transaction instead of a kid. Having every decision made based on what I could bring to someone else. My father had done it to me my whole damn life. All he’d ever cared about was marketability, sponsors, appearances. Not me. Not what I needed.
Hazel wasn’t going through that.
Didn’t matter if I wasn’t built for this. Didn’t matter if I had no clue what I was doing.
I inhaled slowly, my chest tight. “I’m keeping her.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I have to call Julian.”
My whole body tensed. “Why?”
“Because,” she said, voice as calm as ever, “he owns the team, Griffin. He pays your salary, and you just detonated a PR nightmare in the middle of his championship campaign. And with the Goldleaf Spirits deal closing next month…” She trailed off, but the implication was clear.
“Give me until morning.” I pushed myself upright, grip tightening around my phone. “Please.”
“No.”
My jaw clenched. “He’s going to lose his mind.”
“Yes. He is. Which is why he needs to hear it from me before he hears it from the press.”
Julian Carter didn’t do unexpected. No scandals, no distractions, no drama that made his life more difficult. He ran Aedris like a machine.
And I had just thrown a fucking wrench straight into the gears.
“Selene.” My voice dropped lower, rougher. “You call him now, and I’m dealing with his shitstorm before I’ve even had time to think.”
“I’m calling him,” she said, her tone dismissive. “That’s my job, Griffin.”
Then the line went dead and I dropped my phone onto the sofa, staring at Liam with shell-shocked dread curling through me.
Liam stretched out his legs, grinning like an idiot. “So. What’s your bet? Fine? Public apology? One-year probation where you’re only allowed to say ‘thank you to the team’ in interviews?”
I shut my eyes. “Fuck off, Liam.”
He hummed. “Think Julian will say the same when he calls?”