Page 158 of Knot So Fast
"You think life is gamble worth throwing out because of mere competition?" He pushes himself to standing, swaying slightly on his crutches but radiating fury. "Yes, we come up here, show face and pettiness, play games for cameras. But you really believe I'm going to watch woman who has gotten this far into competition burn to death out of pride?"
No one says anything. No one even breathes.
Dimitri continues, his voice rising. "Vale may be Omega, but she has proven to you low lives that she rather push herself to limit again and again to prove she belongs in this competition. The fact she didn't fight to get out of car also proves she'd rather die than try to save herself, knowing you lots would cause another dramatic storm online saying she's coward for wanting to live."
He pauses, letting that sink in. Several reporters have the decency to look ashamed.
"This is what our competition has become," he says, disgust dripping from every word. "Sacrificing life to prove someone is worthy of this sport. Disgusting."
He takes a breath, and when he speaks again, his voice is steady, final. "If I had to help Vale out of that car again and became damn amputee, I'd do it. Because I have enough pride to know when to stop playing this game of competition and realize we're all people trying to enjoy thrill of racing."
He starts moving toward the door, his crutches clicking against the floor in the silence. At the threshold, he pauses, not looking back.
"Racing is about passion, about pushing limits, about becoming more than ordinary. But moment we value victory over life? That's moment we stop being racers and become monsters."
Then he's gone, leaving a room full of people who suddenly can't meet each other's eyes.
I don't wait for the questions to resume. I'm on my feet and moving before Terek can call me back, before anyone can ask another insensitive question or demand another sound bite for their evening broadcast.
In the hallway, I catch up to Dimitri. He's moving slowly, each step obviously painful despite the pain medication he's probably drowning in.
"Dimitri," I call out, and he stops but doesn't turn around immediately.
I close the distance between us, standing where he can see me without having to pivot on his injured leg. Up close, I can see the exhaustion in his eyes, the pain he's hiding, the weight of what he's given up.
"Thank you," I say simply. Then, because simple isn't enough, I add, "Thank you for saving the Omega I love."
He huffs, muttering something in Russian that sounds like "whatever," but then his expression shifts to something more serious.
"You won't like how this competition ends," he says, his voice quiet enough that only I can hear.
I frown, studying his face. "Why? Do you know who's behind this?"
Instead of answering directly, he nods toward the conference room. "Go back. You'll see why."
He starts moving again, each step careful and measured. "Some victories, Wolfe, cost more than losing ever could."
I watch him disappear around the corner, his cryptic warning sitting heavy in my chest. Part of me wants to follow, to demand answers, but the larger part knows I need to face whatever's waiting in that conference room.
The walk back feels longer than it should, like the universe is giving me time to prepare for whatever bomb is about to drop. Through the glass doors, I can see Terek at the podium, his expression grim as he reads from a tablet. The reporters are all leaning forward, hungry for whatever information he's providing.
I push through the doors just as Terek says the words that change everything.
"Ferrari has announced Dimitri Volkov's replacement for the remainder of the season."
I know what's coming before he says it. Know it in my bones, in the way my stomach drops and my hands clench into fists. Dimitri's warning makes perfect sense now.
"Lucius Wolfe will be taking over the Ferrari seat, effective immediately."
The room explodes.
Reporters surge to their feet, shouting questions that blur together into white noise. Cameras flash like strobe lights, turning everything into a disjointed series of snapshots. But I'm frozen in place, processing the implications of what this means.
My twin brother, who couldn't commit to our pack, who's been playing games with loyalty and allegiance, is now driving for our biggest rival. The same team whose car was sabotaged alongside Auren's. The same team that's been courting him for weeks with promises of glory and independence.
"Mr. Wolfe!" A reporter shoves a microphone in my face. "How do you feel about racing against your brother?"
"Will this affect Titan Racing's strategy?"
