"Any idea who might have hired him?" she asks.

"I did have some notions," I tell her, "But I think I'm way off base. You won't believe it, but I honestly thought-"

"That Charlie Spano wanted to keep Harrison Davies far away from you?"

"How the h.e.l.l did you guess that?" I ask.

"We think alike, my dear. If it wasn't for the fact that Charlie is currently courting that adorable American friend of yours, I'd still be suspicious. But Charlie doesn't stand to gain anything from an article like that."

"There's one other person who I thought might be behind it all," I tell her, "That blonde woman from the article, Shelby Vaughn?"

"The one Enzo's taken up with now?" Mom asks.

"Do you just know everything?" I ask.

"I'm your mother, it's my job to know," she says matter-of-factly.

"Well, I think there's a possibility that Shelby may have something to do with this whole mess," I go on, "I suspected her from the beginning. From the first night we met, she was cold to me. She's on McClain's media team, so she'd know exactly how to manipulate the story for the press. It was even one of her photos that made it onto the front page. She and Harrison clearly have...a past, which I can't even begin to think about without wanting to vomit. And now she's got her hooks in Enzo, too."

"Oh dear..." Mom sighs, "That's quite a lot, to be fair. But I don't think it really adds up, Siena. What could she gain from bringing this whole thing down around you and Harrison? Stoking that conflict would only mean that she'd lose Harrison and Enzo both."

"I...haven't figured that out just yet," I admit.

"I don't think you will, because I don't think that Shelby girl is behind this either," Mom says. "There's got to be someone else pulling the strings. Someone who's going to benefit wildly from this whole mess. Does anyone come to find who fits that bill?"

"Honestly? Not a soul," I say, shaking my head, "I don't see how anyone at all wins in this situation."

Off in the distance, an outraged howl rings out across the estate. Mom and I look out over my balcony toward the guest house. It sounds like the whole team is out there, cursing and swearing about something or another.

"The Grand Prix must be over," Mom remarks. "And it doesn't sound like the outcome is too rosy."

We listen as the team storms out of the guest house, back toward the main building. The front door crashes open, and a dozen angry voices rise up from the foyer.

"Of course that motherf.u.c.ker won," I hear Enzo growl, "That's just what we need today."

"I was hoping for Rostov or Landers," Gus puts in, "Anyone but that smug f.u.c.k-"

"We should have seen it coming," Dad cuts in, "He's been inching up through the ranks while we've been distracted by Davies."

Mom and I trade glances and hurry across my bedroom together. We step out into the hallway and look down over the banister. Below, the men of Team Ferrelli pace like a bunch of caged wild dogs, snarling and out for blood.

"What happened?" Mom asks, drawing the eyes of every man toward us.

For a moment, the team is too startled to see me to speak. I feel the heavy gazes of Enzo, my dad, all of them on me, weighing me down into the ground. Part of me wants to curl up in a little ball and hide away, but I listen to my mother and stand my ground against their anger.

"Rafael Marques took first place," Dad finally says, "He's closing in on us. Fast."

"We can't afford to drop out of first for the rest of the tournament," Enzo goes on, "Between Marques and Romeo, we've got enemies on all sides."

"I guess you'd like to have it out, right Enzo?" I ask coolly.

"Really Siena," he sighs, "I have nothing left to say to you."

"Why don't you gentlemen leave us alone for a little family meeting?" my mother cuts in. "I think there are some beers in the kitchen, feel free to help yourselves."

Gus ushers the bulk of Team Ferrelli out of the room as Mom and I descend the stairs. Dad's eyes are tired as he watches our progress, but Enzo's are simply cold. I can't believe I've done something to earn not just his anger, but his indifference. If I didn't know how serious this was before, it's clear as day now.

"Here we are," Mom says, crossing her arms, "All my ducklings back in one place. I swear, I let you head off on one tournament without me and all h.e.l.l breaks loose."

"There's really only one person here who derailed the entire train," Enzo says pointedly.

"That, Son, is simply not true," Mom says, "Your behavior's been just as questionable as your sister's. Causing fights and wrecks? Chasing members of another team? You don't have as much room to cast judgment as you think."

Enzo opens his mouth to protest, but thinks better of it. Mom has always gotten the last word in this house, usually because she's right. It feels nice to have an ally for once in this mess of a situation.

"So, what do you think we should do?" Dad asks, "Pretend like nothing's happened? Fight back?"

"Find out who's spreading rumors about our family and make sure they shut their mouths," Mom replies, "That's what we need to focus on now. In the meantime, we'll keep our heads high and carry on. You'll all head back to London tomorrow so Enzo can keep training and Siena can figure out what's going on between her and Harrison."

"You're not actually encouraging that?" Enzo says.

"Just as much as I'm encouraging you to keep on with your Shelby, if you so choose," Mom replies.

"What?" I cry, "Shelby's a vile monster!"

"So is Harrison," Enzo shoots back.

"If you two are finished fighting like children," Mom cuts us off, "I think we need to take the rest of the night off from worrying about this. Neither of you looks as if you've slept in days. You came here to get your wits together, didn't you? Fighting isn't going to help you clear your heads and come at the next Grand Prix fresh. You need to take a load off, eat some vegetables, get yourselves together. That's how we're going to fight this thing."

"Right as ever," Dad says, slipping an arm around Mom's waist.

"And you need to relax more than anyone," Mom says, chucking Dad under the chin, "Look at those bags under your eyes."

"I'm afraid I'm not going to get any prettier in the next few months," Dad says quietly.

"Don't be silly," Mom says, "You'll always be the most handsome man in the world, Alfonso. Well, one of two, counting your son."

"So that's it?" Enzo says, "We're just supposed to pretend like nothing's wrong and have family game night or something?"

"Precisely," Mom smiles, "Now come on. Dinner isn't going to make itself."

Mom and Dad follow the team into the kitchen, leaving Enzo and I alone for the first time in weeks. He looks at me without a trace of sympathy, and I feel my heart splinter even further. How did we come to this? Enzo has always been my best friend in the world, now he can barely even stand to look at me.

"We're going to make this right," I tell him.

But he doesn't even reply. He simply shakes his head and stalks off toward the kitchen, leaving me to scurry along behind him like a little sister I am. I guess old habits die hard, especially where family is concerned.

Chapter Three.

An Olive Branch

Despite Mom's best efforts, the hours crawl by in a haze of tension and raw nerves. I try and play nice with Enzo, but his every word seems to be barbed and meant to hurt me. Between my brother's pa.s.sive aggressive jabs, Charlie's cold shouldering, the team's unwillingness to meet my gaze, and Mom's chipper insistence that everything is fine, I'm totally overwhelmed. Coming here was supposed to be helpful, soothing. But instead, all I can think about is whether I was hasty in leaving Harrison's side.

I excuse myself from the after-dinner lounging downstairs and retreat to my bedroom. I claim exhaustion, but I'm really just in need of a single moment alone in the midst of this publicity s.h.i.t storm. I'm not used to being the center of attention, not by a long shot. I'm not really sure how to handle myself, how anyone handles their private life being scrutinized by the public. This whole thing almost makes me want to give Enzo a little more credit for being remotely well-adjusted. "Almost" being the operative word, there.

Shutting my bedroom door quietly behind me, I take a deep, cleansing breath in the darkness of my bedroom. Alone up here, listening to the far off conversation downstairs, reminds me of so many nights of my childhood. The grownups and team members would convene downstairs and I'd sneak up here, away from the bustle and noise. This room has always been my asylum. But crossing to my little balcony, I realize with a sinking sadness that this place is no longer where I feel most secure. My new sanctuary is in Harrison's arms-and I was foolish enough to leave just when I needed them most.

No, you were right to leave, I encourage myself, stepping out onto the narrow terrace that leads off my bedroom. The moon has risen round and full, its light dappled along the hills and groves that spread out across our property. I think back to that horrible article I read just this morning, the details it dredged up about not only me, but Harrison and Shelby, Enzo and my dad. Every secret I was set on keeping was printed right there for the world to see. And some of Harrison's secrets made it in, too.

I just don't know what to make of the fact that he and Shelby were an item. I can't stand the woman, and I'm hurt that Harrison didn't tell me. But if he's telling the truth, if the picture of them was taken out of context, can I really hold his past relationships against him? I've certainly dated my fair share of unfortunate specimens. It just hurts, having grown so close to someone and realizing that I don't even know the entirety of his past.

If he kept Shelby a secret from me, what else is he hiding? Is there any weight to the accusation that he's been using me all this time? As much as infidelity would sting, it wouldn't be anywhere near as devastating as learning that Harrison's feelings for me were entirely fabricated-a performance to throw Enzo off his game. With so many rumors flying through the air, I have no idea what to believe any more.

The sound of raised voices floats across our property like a phantom. I frown at the unexpected noise-the commotion is too far off to be coming from the post-dinner gathering downstairs. I look off toward our front gates and remember the media circus that lingers there still. I feel my stomach flip as I imagine what new bone the press might have gotten a hold of. I've put off reading the internet or looking at any other newspapers since this morning. My story could be getting skewed in any direction and I wouldn't even know.

I'm just about to turn back inside to ask my family what the deal is when another far more familiar sound catches my ear. A revving engine growls up our driveway. Squealing tires sing out in the night. In the distance, headlights spring up out of nowhere, barreling toward our front door. There's a car racing toward our house at top speed, but the vehicle travels along smooth as silk. Not many people could handle a car like that. In fact, I've only seen one man operate a vehicle with so much grace and ease.

"You've got to be kidding..." I breathe, clutching onto the balcony railing.

The headlights grow closer and closer as the car zooms along our drive. In a blaze of light and sound, it skids to a halt just before our front steps, growling like a big cat. The engine cuts suddenly, along with the gleaming lights. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness as a car door opens and slams shut again. I peer over the railing, trying to see in the dim moonlight. A huge figure straightens up beside the car, taking long strides toward the front door of my family's home. The soft light from above gleams against our visitor's eyes-his gorgeous, sky blue eyes.

"Harrison?" I breathe.

Just below my window, the most beautiful face in the world turns up toward mine. The world comes back into focus around me. A crooked smile spreads across Harrison Davies lips as he crosses his cut arms.

"There you are," he calls up, "Sorry it took me so long to come after you. There were a few dozen reporters I had to scare off my lawn before I could get away."

"And fifty more at the front gates," I remind him, "I'm sure they're all pretty grateful to you for the photo op you just gave them."

"Frankly Siena," Harrison drawls, affecting the worst southern accent I've ever heard in my life, "I don't give a d.a.m.n".

I laugh despite myself, so relieved to see him smiling. "You really need to keep your day job, Harrison. I don't think you have a future on the big screen."

"Just the computer screen, apparently. Have you looked at the blogs?"

"Absolutely not," I tell him.

"You should," he says, "We need to see what people are saying so that we can come back with our own story. Our real story."

"You still want to try and make this work?" I ask, "Even after I stormed out on you this morning and everything?"

"I deserved to be stormed out on," Harrison says, "Siena, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you about my fling with Shelby. That was wrong. I didn't mention it because it meant absolutely nothing to me, to either of us. We were bored, and lonely, and it was stupid, but I should have told you the truth from the start."

"And what about the rest of the article?" I shoot back, "What about using me to get to Enzo, make a name for yourself as an F1 leading man?"

"I hope you think enough of me to discount those rumors out of hand," Harrison replies, "You can't look me in the eye and tell me you think any of that bulls.h.i.t is true. Can you, Siena?"

"No," I whisper, "No Harrison, I can't."

"I know," he says, taking a step forward, "I love you, Siena."

"I love you too," I tell him, leaning over the railing. Staring down at him in the moonlight, I'm suddenly struck with the hilarity of our situation. Uncontrollable laughter grabs hold of me, making me double over in the darkness.

"What so funny?" Harrison asks.

"I...I'm standing here...on a freaking balcony..." I giggle, "We spent our first night together...hooking up in a bathroom, and here we are practically rehearsing for Romeo and Juliet, just like they say. What a couple of saps we've become."

"You've got a point," Harrison grins.

My laughter cuts off as a sliver of yellow light falls across Harrison's face, widening until he's bathed in it.

"What the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing here?" I hear Enzo say from the front doorway.

"s.h.i.t," I mutter, turning on my heel and streaking down the staircase.

In the foyer, all of Team Ferrelli has gathered behind Enzo, peering through the doorway. Just as I hit the tile of our front hall, Enzo strides out onto the driveway, fists balled up tight. Gus and Charlie lunge after him as Bex stands beside my dad, keeping him from joining in the impending fray. Mom is waiting for me at the foot of the steps. She offers out her hand and I take it. This is exactly the kind of situation she knows how to handle best. Together, we hurry out into the night to keep Harrison and Enzo from tearing each other limb from limb.

"You have some nerve," Enzo is saying as I step outside.

"I wanted to come and explain myself," Harrison says, holding up his hands.

"We are so beyond that, Davies," Enzo growls, "And we're far away from any F1 track. I could beat you senseless and no one would be able to stop me."

"I beg to differ," I say, running around to place myself between Enzo and Harrison.

"Get out of the way, Siena," Enzo tells me, "This a.s.shole has made a mockery out of you. Out of all of us."

"I'm not going anywhere," I tell my brother, "You're going to hear Harrison out."

"Like h.e.l.l," Enzo scoffs.

"I wanted to come talk to you, and your father, and your whole team," Harrison barrels on, "I wanted to tell you how sorry I am that this has gotten so messy. I wanted to tell you how much I care about Siena."

"The only thing you care about your own publicity," Enzo shoots back.

"I know I can't make you believe me. Words don't mean anything to men of action like ourselves," Harrison says, laying a hand on my arm, "But things are going to be different now, Enzo. Believe me. The world knows about me and Siena now. We can stop sneaking around. We can be a real couple."