Chapter 157 – Crashing Vittorio’s Favorite Toy

Chapter 157 – Crashing Vittorio’s Favorite Toy

Valentino’s POV
The crowd outside the car roared like thunder. Cameras flashed. Engines screamed in the distance. Every sound blended into one low growl under my skin.
I stepped out first. My men were already lined up, forming a wall between me and the crowd. Sunglasses, earpieces, hands tucked under jackets — all muscle and silence. When I moved, they bowed their heads slightly. Respect. Fear. Habit.
“Katarina,” I said, glancing back.
She stepped out after me in that bright yellow dress Vittorio had ordered. The thing glowed like sunlight. Every man within ten feet turned to look at her. I didn’t blame them — she looked like sin pretending to be summer.
Then Fiorella climbed out, all smooth grace and smiles, her hand bandaged like she was showing off a trophy. I hadn’t invited her, but there she was — glued to my arm before I could even blink.
“This way, sir,” one of the escorts said, leading us toward the private VIP balcony.
The smell hit first — gasoline, rubber, and something metallic, like heat and adrenaline. Crowds shouted. The sound of engines rolling to the starting line echoed through the stadium.
“This is chaos,” I muttered.
Katarina smiled, her hair whipping in the breeze. “You love chaos.”
“Not when it ruins my plans,” I said, shooting a look at Fiorella, who was busy waving like she was queen of the track.
We took our seats. The VIP section overlooked the entire circuit — rows of polished cars lined up below, glinting under the sun like a rainbow of speed.
I leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “You like cars?”
Katarina shrugged. “I like fast things.”
I smirked. “That can be dangerous.”
She tilted her head. “So are you.”
Fiorella rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed that I wasn’t paying her attention. “Don’t start flirting at a car race, please. It’s tacky.”
“Everything you touch is tacky,” I said.
Her smile tightened. “You’ve forgotten your manners.”
“I traded them for honesty.”
Katarina chuckled quietly. She was enjoying this too much.
Down below, the cars revved louder, engines screaming like beasts waiting to be freed.
I pointed to one of the red cars near the front. “That’s mine.”
“You own one?” she asked.
“I own four.” I nodded to another — black, sleek, deadly. “That’s the one I’m betting on.”
She squinted. “They all look the same to me.”
“Then pick one,” I challenged. “Any color, any number. Let’s see if your luck beats my knowledge.”
Her eyes scanned the track before she pointed at a blue car in the middle row. “That one. Looks lucky.”
“Lucky?” I raised a brow. “You don’t pick winners by color.”
“I don’t know cars,” she said, grinning. “But I’ve got magic and luck on my side.”
I leaned closer. “Magic, huh?”
She held my gaze, playful but firm. “Don’t underestimate it.”
“Fine,” I said. “If your car wins, I’ll owe you something.”
“Anything?”
“Within reason.”
She smirked. “Deal.”
Just then, one of my men approached, head low. “Sir, call from Vittorio. He says it’s urgent.”
I groaned. “Of course he does.”
“Put it on speaker,” I said, already irritated.
The man set the phone on the table. Vittorio’s voice came through sharp, cold, and furious. “Valentino. What the hell are you doing?”
I smiled. “Watching cars. Relax, brother.”
“You took Katarina to a public event? A car race?” His voice boomed even through the static. “Do you have any idea how reckless that is?”
“She’s fine,” I said. “Your guards are everywhere. You’ve got snipers on rooftops. She’s safer here than with you right now.”
“That’s not the point.” His tone cut deep. “You’re supposed to protect her, not parade her.”
I sighed, bored. “You handle the media. I’ll handle her.”
“Valentino—”
I interrupted, voice sharp. “Focus on cleaning her name and killing whoever posted that shit online. I’m handling her better than you think.”
There was a pause. Then his voice dropped low. “Better than me?”
I smirked, knowing exactly how that would hit him. “Much better.”
“Valentino—”
I picked up the phone and ended the call. Then I tossed it to my guard. “Handle him when he calls again.”
Katarina looked at me with wide eyes. “You just hung up on Vittorio?”
“He’ll survive.” I stretched, settling back in my seat. “Now, where were we?”
“The race,” she said, smiling nervously.
“Right. The race.” I leaned closer. “Ready to lose?”
“Never.”
The announcer’s voice cracked through the speakers, counting down. “Three… two… one…”
Engines exploded in a roar. Tires screamed. The cars shot forward in a blur of color. The crowd erupted.
“Come on, blue!” Katarina shouted, jumping a little in her seat.
I laughed. “You don’t even know who’s driving it!”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said, eyes bright. “It’s mine now.”
Halfway through the track, my black car took the lead. I nudged her arm. “Told you. Knowledge beats luck.”
“Race isn’t over,” she shot back.
We both leaned forward as the cars screeched around the final curve. Blue was trailing just behind black, gaining speed. My heart raced with the engines.
And then—
Blue swerved hard, shot past the others, and crossed the finish line first.
Katarina jumped to her feet, shouting. “I won!”
The crowd roared with her. She turned to me, laughing, cheeks flushed. “You owe me!”
I shook my head, grinning despite myself. “Fine. What do you want?”
She leaned close, voice soft. “It’s a secret. I’ll collect later.”
Something about the way she said it — the way her lips curved — made me forget how to breathe for a second.
Then Fiorella stood up suddenly. “Excuse me,” she said, forcing a sweet tone. “I need to use the restroom.”
“Don’t get lost,” I muttered.
She ignored me, strutting off.
I turned back to the track just as the next heat was announced. The adrenaline was still in my veins. I wanted in.
I grabbed my guard’s arm. “Get the organizer. Tell him I want a seat in the next race.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Sir, the next one’s open class—”
“I don’t care,” I said. “Get me a car.”
Katarina blinked. “You’re driving?”
“I didn’t come here to just watch.” I looked at her. “Ride with me.”
Her smile faltered. “Valentino, I—”
Before she could finish, Fiorella appeared again, right on cue. “Oh, poor Katarina. She’s scared.”
I turned, annoyed. “You’re back already?”
She smiled, too sweet. “I can ride with you instead. Wouldn’t want her to faint.”
A waiter passed by with a tray of drinks. She picked up a bottle and handed it to me. “You look thirsty, love. You should stay hydrated before the race.”
I frowned. “Since when do you care?”
She tilted her head. “Can’t I be nice?”
Katarina raised a brow. “That’s new.”
Fiorella’s eyes flicked toward her, but her smile stayed. “Drink, Valentino.”
I took it just to shut her up. The water was cold, crisp. I drained half of it before setting it down. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Katarina leaned back. “Are you sure that’s smart?”
I gave her a cocky grin. “I’m a De Luca. We don’t play safe.”
Fiorella’s fingers brushed my arm as we walked down toward the pit lane. “You always did love danger.”
“I love winning,” I said flatly.
The car they’d prepared was sleek, silver, and roaring to go. I slipped on the helmet, pulled the gloves tight. Fiorella climbed into the passenger seat, humming under her breath.
“Ready?” I said.
She smiled. “Always.”
Engines screamed to life. The smell of fuel filled the air, sharp and heavy. My pulse matched the rumble under my feet.
The announcer’s voice blared. “Three… two… one—GO!”
The car shot forward like a bullet. The wind punched against the windshield. Every gear shift buzzed through my bones. I laughed — that sharp, reckless laugh that only comes when death’s sitting right beside you.
Fiorella was shouting something, but I barely heard her. The world was just speed and smoke.
Halfway through the second lap, my vision blurred.
“What the—” My hands twitched on the wheel. The road tilted. The sound of the crowd stretched and warped.
“Valentino?” Fiorella’s voice cracked. “What’s wrong?”
“Shut up.” I blinked hard. My pulse was pounding. The edges of the world started to dim.
I gripped the wheel tighter, but it felt like I was holding air. My arms went weak. Sweat broke across my forehead.
The car jerked left.
“Valentino!” Fiorella screamed. “You’re going off track!”
“I—” My throat burned. I couldn’t finish. The steering locked. The pedals went stiff.
Something was wrong. Something in that damn water.
I fought the wheel, but the car wouldn’t listen. The track blurred — the barrier up ahead glowing yellow in the sun.
And behind it, I saw her.
Katarina. Standing near the railing, her hand over her mouth, yellow dress bright like a target.
“Her eyes locked on mine through the chaos — wide, terrified, glowing like sunlight before it dies.”
“Move!” I yelled, voice cracking.
Fiorella was screaming now. The car fishtailed, tires screaming louder than the crowd. My chest burned. The edges of my vision went white.
I tried to swerve. I couldn’t. “My vision split — the world bending, blood pounding in my skull. The seatbelt dug into my chest as the world went white.”
The barrier rushed closer — metal, glass, sunlight. 
One last thought flashed through my mind before the world exploded into noise.
Vittorio’s going to kill me.
And then the car hit.