Page 9 of Red Flagged
“Frenchie!” Ivy’s voice sliced through the corridor, way too fucking chipper given the circumstances.
The moment shattered. Callum’s hands dropped from my face, and we both turned to see a flurry of dark hair and pale skin rushing toward us. Ivy waved mic packs around like a madwoman, Marco and Kimi flanking each side like they were some kind of military operation.
“Off The Gridneeds you both wired up, like, yesterday,” she told us, coming to a stop. She panted like she was winded, and I took in her flushed cheeks and tousled hair. She wasn’t her usual put together self. Her bright green eyes were swollen, and instead of her typical power suit, she was in a plain black long sleeve, leggings, and trainers.
I glanced at the boys behind her. Marco looked his usual smug self, but there was something off about him… he was in his usual team jacket and jeans, but—wait.I zeroed in on faint scratch marks on his neck.
Oh. Mon. Dieu.
Then there was Kimi, looking annoyed for some godforsaken reason.
What the fuck was going on with these three?
“Great, everyone’s here,” Callum said, clearly not clocking everything I just had, because he sounded strangely excited despite what just happened in that boardroom. “We can move and mic up. We have a plan.”
A plan. Did this include his?
It didn’t matter if it did. It was going to be crazy either way, but it would beours. Like racing in the rain—either we’d find grip where no one else dared, or we’d skid straight into ruin.
Marco peeled awayfrom Kimi and the girls, catching my sleeve with a grip too tight to ignore. His usual smirk was gone, replaced with something raw and full of vitriol.
“Fraser, do not let me within ten feet of that fucker,” he growled, low and vicious.
I side-eyed him as we sauntered down the paddock toward the Vanguard garages. The rain had lightened some, enough for the FIA to not delay the race, but not enough to make these optimal wet conditions. Strategy would be a bitch today.
“Who? Morel?”
“Yeah, and you wanna know why I nearly took his head off yesterday?” He let go of my arm and leapt in front of me. I paused mid-stride at the crazed look on my best friend’s face. Rain slicked his dark hair to his forehead, his Italian accent thick with venom. “It wasn’t just Aurélie. Morel’s been sniffing around Ivy for weeks. I saw him in Spielberg. Ivy—she was leaving ameeting with Beckett’s team—and Morel—” He cut himself off and raked a hand through his hair, then folded his arms across his chest and fixed his dark brown eyes on me.
“Mate, slow down,” I told him, glancing around to see the abundance of cameras fixed on us. Throwing out Beckett Lachlan’s name—my old friend who’d bought out Orion GP—could raise more than a few eyebrows before we were ready. “We’re mic’d up.”
“So fucking what!” he exploded, face turning red. I hadneverseen him like this. “He touched her, too. I saw it happen. He put his hands on her waist, tried to kiss her. Fucking slimeball couldn’t take a hint. Kept trying to take her out for drinks. She was shoving him away. I saw it and stepped in. Dio mio, I saw her face after. She needed someone and I—that’s how she knew to come to the air strip.”
Jesus, he was fired up. Could barely form a complete sentence.
Wait.
Morel had laid his hands on Ivy, too? Fuck. Now her pale face and panicked demeanor when Marco showed up made sense. She was reliving Morel getting handsy with her.
My blood ran hotter than an engine in the desert. “You’re telling me thisnow?”
“Ivy begged me not to make it worse,” he snapped and unfolded his arms, pacing in front of me. “But when you looked at me yesterday, I knew—I fuckingknew. He touched Aurélie, too. He’s a goddamn predator. He left marks on her, for Christ’s sake!”
“Marco,” I warned. “Not here.”
He threw his hands in the air. “Not here? Callum, did you see yourself yesterday? I thought you were going to kill him!”
“Yes!” I shouted. “You have no idea how furious I am, mate. I just spent the entire fucking morning watching Auri fight forjustice in front of a bunch of misogynistic assholes andstillthe best solution they came up with was an investigationafterthe race!”
Marco’s chest heaved. We were both drenched now. I grabbed his shoulder and guided him toward the garages again.
“Callum, how many fucking women do you think he’s touched? Doesn’t matter if it’s Ivy, Aurélie, whoever.”
“I don’t know,” I muttered. “But he’ll keep pushing until someone breaks his fucking teeth.”
Auri had calmed me down earlier, talked me off the ledge of fury I’d been riding since the moment we set foot in the paddock. Her gentle words, her seductive little grin, her passionate kisses… it had shifted that fury into something stronger. Lust. The little brat knew the effect she had on me.
But now? I wanted to grab Morel by the throat, storm back into that boardroom, and slam him down on the fucking table. Let them all see exactly what I thought of their plan for retribution.
