"I know." His right hand—finally free of its cast and almost back to normal strength—tightens around mine. "But you love me anyway."
"I do."
I take a deep breath, centering myself. I've faced worse things. Hostile boards of directors. Nicholas's toxic behavior last season. Dominic's sabotage and lawsuits. This is just... being honest about something that makes me happy. I wish this could be just ours. Private. Special.
The taxi stops outside the circuit entrance, and William immediately moves to get out. I reach for my wallet, paying the driver while William circles around to my side. As I turn to push the door open, it swings wide, revealing William standing there with an extended hand, and that same goofy smile that first cracked my defenses last year.
My heart flips. Even now, even after all we've been through, he still has this effect on me.
I glance beyond him, instantly noticing the stares. Paddock personnel pause mid-stride. A group of mechanics from anotherteam nudge each other, pointing discreetly. A photographer adjusts his lens, clearly recognizing the unusual sight—driver and Team Principal arriving together, in the same car, at the same time.
William's hand remains extended, patient, his eyes never leaving mine. I take a deep breath, grab my bag, and think,Fuck it.
I take his hand.
He helps me out of the taxi, and I expect him to release me once I'm standing. He doesn't. Instead, his fingers interlace with mine, grip firm and unwavering.
"Let's go," he says, eyes bright with determination. "Probably shock the paddock, but I don't give a fuck anymore."
We take our first steps together toward the entrance, and every eye is on us. Phones emerge from pockets. Cameras click. People whisper behind hands. My pulse throbs in my ears, but William's steady presence beside me keeps me moving forward.
As we enter the main paddock area, reality hits full force.I'm back.After six races watching from screens, analyzing data remotely, attending meetings via video call—I'm physically present again. The familiar smells of rubber, fuel, and coffee mingle in the air. The symphony of engines, tools, and conversations envelops us. And at the center of it all, William and I, hand in hand.
It takes approximately twelve seconds for the first journalist to spot us.
"William! Violet!" A woman with a microphone rushes over, cameraman in tow. "Is this confirmation of the rumors about your relationship?"
More media materialize, surrounding us with microphones and cameras. Questions overlap into incomprehensible noise.
William's grip on my hand tightens slightly. I glance up to find him smiling—not the media smile he's perfected over the years, but something genuine and proud.
"Please leave me andmy boyfriendin peace." I lift my chin slightly, daring them to comment. They don't.
William gently tugs me forward with a grin on his face, creating a path through the stunned journalists. I follow his lead, too overwhelmed to do much beyond keeping pace with his confident stride. The flash of cameras continues, but the questions momentarily cease, reporters scrambling to process this direct confirmation.
We make our way toward the Colton Racing motorhome, William nodding politely to various team members and drivers we pass. Some look shocked. Others smile knowingly. A few even offer thumbs-up or small waves of encouragement.
"That was sexy," he whispers and squeezes my hand, taking it to his lips to kiss the back of it. "Claiming me in public does things to me."
As we climb the steps to the motorhome entrance, my cheeks dusted in a soft copper, the door swings open, revealing Tom, Maya, EJ, and Felix standing in the common area. All four freeze, eyes darting between our faces—and our joined hands.
Tom recovers first, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Well, well, well."
EJ's jaw hangs open comically. "Wait,what?"
Felix steps forward, extending his hand to William. "About time, dude."
"Oh, this is so… cute! Congratulations!" Maya adds, her typically reserved demeanor breaking into genuine warmth.
The blush continues creeping up my neck, equal parts embarrassment and happiness. William beams beside me, accepting handshakes and backslaps with his free hand, still refusing to release mine with the other.
Heavy footsteps sound behind us, and Belforte appears at the door, his imposing frame blocking the light momentarily.
"Thank God you finally stopped circling each other," he announces, pushing past us to clasp a hand on each of our shoulders. "It was making me go insane."
William laughs, the sound light and carefree. "Subtle as always, Silas."
Belforte shrugs unapologetically. "Life's too short for games. You deserve to be together. Fuck the morality police in the paddock."
