Page 226 of Knot So Lucky
I frown, my brain struggling to make the connections. "Adrian doesn't race."
"Yeah." Luca's voice is rough, like the words are being dragged out of him against his will. "He doesn't. Because of his PTSD from that mechanical failure three years ago. But you got drugged, collapsed in the garage right before the race started, and he..." He pauses, swallowing hard. "He took your place."
I gawk at him, speechless.
Adrian.
Sweet, gentle Adrian who supports from the sidelines. Who walked away from professional driving because one mistake destroyed his confidence. Who spends his time cooking meals and analyzing data and making everyone else's dreams possible instead of pursuing his own.
Adrian drove in my place.
"And you guys got first and third?" I whisper, still trying to process.
Luca nods.
"Third place. I got third." He pauses, and something that might be pride breaks through the misery. "Adrian got first."
The implication settles over me with devastating weight.
Adrian—who hasn't driven professionally in three years, who carries trauma and guilt from his past failure—got behind the wheel of my car. Drove in my place without anyone realizing until it was too late to stop him. And won.
Got first fucking place in a championship-qualifying race.
"Where's Adrian?" The question comes out smaller than intended, because I'm suddenly terrified of the answer.
Luca takes another deep breath, and I watch him steel himself for what he has to say next.
"Surgery."
The word hits me harder than I can expect.
"Someone attached an AirTag-type device to the car," Luca explains, his voice carefully controlled in that way that suggests he's barely holding himself together. "We didn't know it was actually a detonating device. It exploded after he crossed the finish line."
My heart stops.
"After," I repeat, focusing on that single word. "Not before. After the finish line."
"Yeah." Luca's expression darkens with fury. "Which means it had to be triggered manually, not timed. Someone waswatching, waiting for the perfect moment. It had to happen between you passing out and being rushed to this private medical center, and Adrian taking your place, suiting up, taking over without us realizing until we were well into the race."
I'm speechless.
The pieces arrange themselves in my mind with horrible clarity. Someone poisoned me to take me out of the race. But they also had a backup plan—a device attached to the car that would detonate regardless of who was driving.
Except it detonatedafterthe finish line. After first place was secured. After victory was achieved.
Which means whoever triggered it wanted Adrian to win first. Wanted the triumph before the tragedy. Wanted to make absolutely sure that his final moments would be victory followed immediately by catastrophic failure.
"Will he make it?" The question barely makes it past my throat, fear constricting everything.
Luca has nothing to say.
His silence is answer enough.
I nod slowly, processing the information even as my chest feels like it's being crushed.
Adrian is in surgery. Condition unknown. Survival uncertain.
And it's my fault…
