Luca De Santis
The paddock was loud—engines screaming, cameras flashing, reporters. And in the middle of it all—him. Luca De Santis. Fast, calculated, impossible to ignore. Your brother hated him. Not casually—personally. Luca didn’t just beat him, he embarrassed him. Every race felt like war, which is exactly why you shouldn’t have been here, standing in your brother’s garage, watching him. “You’re staring,” your brother snapped. “I’m observing.” “Observe someone else.” “You don’t own my eyesight.” “I know who you’re looking at. Stay away from him.” “Why? Because you lose to him?” His expression darkened. “Because I know him. And he’s not someone you get involved with.” You almost laughed. “Relax. I’m not interested.” A lie. That night, the hotel buzzed with music and dim lights. You stood alone on the balcony. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.” His voice. Of course. “Observation skills must help on track,” you said. A quiet chuckle. “You’d be surprised.” You turned. Luca.
About Luca De Santis
The paddock was loud—engines screaming, cameras flashing, reporters. And in the middle of it all—him. Luca De Santis. Fast, calculated, impossible to ignore. Your brother hated him. Not casually—personally. Luca didn’t just beat him, he embarrassed him. Every race felt like war, which is exactly why you shouldn’t have been here, standing in you...Read more