Page 113 of Break My Heart

I do know better because I saw him forty minutes ago rereading his brother’s letter. Despite the magnitude of today’s announcement and his determination to make it happen, Leo’s grief fluctuates daily from something quiet to unbearable.

But right now, he looks like he does just before a race.

Determined.

As my father and I approach, we see Dario say something to him. Leo nods once.

Heythrop adjusts his glasses and murmurs, “Say only what you intend to say. Do not be drawn into speculation.”

“Is that your professional advice?”

“It is my personal plea.”

Dario snorts under his breath. “That means yes.”

Before I have a chance to say anything to him, Apex Orion’s PR lead, Bentley Lancaster, steps up to the podium. “If you will all please take your seats—provided one’s available.”

The room shuffles around, and I slip my hand into Leo’s and squeeze his fingers to let him know I support him.

Bentley addresses the crowd. “Thank you for joining us. Leo Hawthorne will make a brief statement, followed by questions.”

The room quiets. From my position, I can see recorders lifting. Cameras adjusting.

Leo gives my fingers a squeeze before releasing my hand and moving forward to take the center seat at the table. Dario and Heythrop follow him out and assume their positions on either side of him.

He waits for them to sit. Once they do, Heythrop gives him an almost imperceptible nod. Leo laces his fingers together in front of him and looks directly at every person in the crowd before speaking. “As many of you in the racing world know, my name is Leo Hawthorne.” His voice is low and steady. “What many of you may have heard through other means is that I was recently given another name—that of Viscount Raleigh. That title was held by my older brother, Albert, until his distressing and untimely death.”

The room is holding its collective breath waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It doesn’t take long.

“Today, through my solicitor, I filed the required legal documentation to disclaim the title of Viscount Raleigh.”

The room explodes. Questions overlap immediately.

“Leo, why?”

“Are you rejecting your family?”

“Did this have anything to do with how your brother died?”

“Is this a publicity move?”

“Are you still entitled to⁠—”

Bentley lifts both her hands before shouting, “One at a time. Please. We want Leo to be able to address some of your questions.”

But Leo doesn’t flinch. He waits with the same patience he’s learned on the grid.

A reporter in the front row is called on first. “Leo, you are confirming the title passed to you after the death of your brother, Albert Hawthorne?”

Leo’s jaw tightens at Albert’s name. “Yes.”

“And, to reiterate, you are choosing to disclaim it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”