Chapter 5: The Deal

I ignored the messages.

I left them unread on my phone like that would somehow make them less real. It didn’t. The words still sat in the back of my mind the entire next day.

You didn’t come.

Next time I won’t give you the option of walking away.

By the time I reached the circuit, my nerves were already frayed. I kept my head down and my camera busy, moving through the garage and pit lane with deliberate purpose. If I stayed focused on work, maybe I could outrun the memory of Rex’s voice and the way he had looked at me in that hallway.

It worked for almost two hours.

Then I turned a corner near the engineering offices and walked straight into him.

Rex was coming from the opposite direction, still in his black team shirt, race gloves tucked into his back pocket. He stopped when he saw me. So did I. For a second we just stood there in the narrow corridor, the air between us suddenly too thick.

“Bennett,” he said.

“I’m busy.”

“You’re always busy when I’m around.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “We need to finish the conversation from the other night.”

“There’s nothing left to finish.”

“There’s plenty.” His eyes held mine. “You still think you can go back to pretending. I’m not going to let you.”

I tried to move past him. He shifted just enough to block the path without touching me.

“I’m not doing this here,” I said.

“Then pick a place. Because we’re doing it today.”

The quiet certainty in his tone made my stomach tighten. I glanced past his shoulder. The corridor was empty for now, but it wouldn’t stay that way. Anyone could turn the corner at any second.

“Fine,” I said under my breath. “Five minutes. Then you leave me alone.”

Rex’s mouth curved slightly. He tilted his head toward a side door that led to one of the smaller briefing rooms. I followed him inside because the alternative was standing in the hallway arguing until someone overheard us. He shut the door and leaned against it.

The room was small and windowless. A table, a few chairs, a whiteboard covered in tire pressure notes. Too quiet.

“Talk,” I said.

“I want a deal.”

“We already had one. I told you the truth. That was the price.”

“That was the first payment.” He crossed his arms. “The real deal is this: you stop performing. No more public insults for show. No more acting like the sound of my name disgusts you. When we’re in the same room, you don’t get to hide behind the version of yourself that hates me.”

I stared at him. “You want me to what—smile at you? Laugh at your jokes? Let everyone think we’re suddenly friends?”

“I want you to stop lying with your entire body every time I’m near.” His voice stayed low and even. “I know what you look like when you’re trying not to want something. I’ve seen it now. I’m not interested in watching the act anymore.”

Heat crawled up my neck. “And if I say no?”

“Then I stop protecting the secret.”

The words landed hard. I felt them in my chest.

“You’re really going to blackmail me into being nice to you?”

“I’m going to blackmail you into being honest,” he corrected. “There’s a difference.”

I laughed once, sharp and humorless. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re still trying to negotiate from a position you don’t have.” He pushed off the door and took two slow steps closer. “I know what you do with my things, Aria. I know how long you’ve been doing it. I know the look on your face when you were breathing in my jacket like it was the only thing keeping you alive. You don’t get to hold the power here anymore.”

My pulse was too loud in my ears. I hated how accurately he could cut me open. I hated that part of me still reacted to the memory of his body pinning me against that lounge door.

“What exactly do you get out of this?” I asked.

Rex was quiet for a moment. Something unreadable moved behind his eyes.

“I get to stop wondering,” he said finally. “Every time you called me arrogant in front of a room full of people, I used to think it was real. Now I know it wasn’t. I want to see what happens when you stop pretending.”

“Nothing happens. I still don’t like you.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

We stood there in the small room, the air charged and heavy. I could feel the shape of the trap closing around me. If I agreed, I would be giving him even more control. If I refused, Ethan would know everything. There was no clean option left.

“I need time,” I said.

“You have until the end of the day.”

“That’s not—”

The door handle turned.

Both of us froze.

Ethan walked in, phone in one hand, a stack of papers in the other. He stopped short when he saw us standing so close in the middle of the room.

“There you are,” he said to Rex. Then his eyes moved to me. “Aria? What are you two doing in here?”

My heart slammed against my ribs. I opened my mouth, but no useful words came out.

Rex spoke first, completely calm.

“Media schedule,” he said. “She needed clarification on the next practice window. We were just finishing.”

Ethan looked between us. His gaze lingered a second too long on the small distance separating our bodies.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” I said quickly. Too quickly. “All clear.”

Ethan nodded slowly, still watching. “Good. Rex, I need you in the strategy meeting in ten. Aria, Mom asked if you’re coming for dinner again this weekend.”

“I’ll let her know,” I managed.

Ethan gave us both one last look, then stepped back into the hallway. The door clicked shut behind him.

Silence filled the room again.

Rex exhaled through his nose. “That was almost unfortunate.”

I turned on him, voice low and furious. “You could have gotten us both caught.”

“I didn’t.” He reached past me and opened the door. “End of the day, Aria. Give me an answer. Or I start considering whether Ethan deserves to know the truth after all.”

He walked out without waiting for a reply.

I stayed in the empty briefing room for a long moment, hands clenched at my sides, the weight of the choice pressing down on me. Outside I could hear the distant sound of engines and voices. Normal circuit noise. None of it felt normal anymore.

My phone buzzed.

I already knew who it was before I looked.

Clock’s ticking, Bennett.