Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I blow out my frustration, rake my fingers through my hair. He’s right… I have a job to do. I have a career that I love more than anything, and I cannot let this thing with Lance and Lara derail me. As much as I vow to protect Lara from my brother, and as much as I want to make my brother suffer, those things have to give way to something more important right now.
CHAPTER 7
Lara
The door to the suite clicks open a little before nine o’clock, and the sound sends a surprising jolt through me.
I set aside my laptop from its position on my knees and my project sketches slide off the couch cushion. I’ve been trying to focus all evening—trying to dive into the residential development project I’ve been assigned for a new coastal resort near Byron Bay—but my mind keeps drifting. To Reid. To Lance. To everything in between.
I push to my feet as Reid steps in, tugging off his Matterhorn jacket and running a hand through his messy blond hair. He looks exhausted. And still stupidly gorgeous.
“Hey,” he says, voice warm but undeniably tired.
“Hey,” I reply, crossing the living room to meet him. “Long day?”
“You could say that,” he murmurs, setting his keys and phone down on the console table.
I hesitate, then add, “I watched practice today. You looked good out there.”
He glances over at me, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “Yeah? You catch my little detour through Turn 9?”
I laugh. “You made it look intentional. Like you were just, you know, inspecting the gravel.”
“Perfect excuse,” he says dryly. “Felix wasn’t impressed.”
“You still finished strong,” I offer. “Third fastest overall.”
His smile widens, a little more genuine now. “Could’ve been better. I had more pace, but we were trying a few setup changes. Mostly went out heavy on fuel to simulate long-run stints.”
I love that I understand so many of the elements of Formula racing. Pace isn’t just about raw speed, but consistency—lap after lap, sector after sector—especially when the car’s heavy and the tires are degrading. It’s the difference between setting a single fast lap and actually winning races.
I grew up in this world, sitting in the stands, memorizing lap charts while cheering Reid and Lance through karting, rally and every Formula step after that. Racing is about managing everything that tries to slow you down.
“Still,” I say, experiencing an unexpected bubble of pride, “you looked… in control. Fast.”
Something flickers in his eyes—gratitude maybe, or something warmer—but he just nods. “Thanks. Means a lot, coming from you.”
There’s a beat where we stand there, some kind of unspoken current humming between us, before he rubs a hand over his hair and says, “Mind if I grab a quick shower before we catch up?”
“Of course not,” I say quickly, stepping aside to let him pass.
I retreat to the couch while he disappears into the primary suite bathroom. I listen to the muted sounds of the shower running and let myself breathe for the first time in hours.
Today has been… full. Emotionally exhausting in ways I hadn’t expected.
Mum and Dad called this afternoon, checking in. They were supportive as ever, promising that whatever happens next, they’ll back me. No judgment, only heartbreak that I’ve been living under Lance’s thumb for so long and didn’t think I had a safe space to share that. I reassured my parents that it was only because I was trying to handle it myself and that it did not reflect on my trust in their support.
I really got choked up when Leanne Hemsworth called—Reid and Lance’s mum. I’d barely answered when her soft, tearful voice filled my ear, telling me how sorry she was, how much she loved me, how none of this was my fault. It broke something open inside me that I hadn’t realized I was still holding on to. I cried after that call for a solid half hour.
But her words reassured me, and they were the same ones I’d heard over and over today. “Lara, darling… we love you and always will. Just as I will continue to love both of my sons. But I won’t ever support Lance in a way that makes light of what he put you through. It’s something we’re all going to try to reconcile.”
I appreciated that so much. Not once did I expect Lance’s parents to turn on him. That’s not who they are. It’s not who I am either. Just because Lance did something very wrong to me doesn’t mean he should be cut out of everyone’s lives. It’s just now… he can no longer be a part of mine, and I can’t envision how that’s going to look in the future. Do we stop having family get-togethers? Or do we have them, and I choose not to go to avoid Lance? Or maybe Lance doesn’t get invited? It’s all so sad—almost an end to life the way I knew it, and I’m mourning the loss for everyone.