"Dominic's a pro at hitting below the belt," I say, keeping my voice casual even as anger simmers beneath the surface.
"Yeah, Violet explained that. Said it wasn't about me at all, really. Just..." He trails off, uncertainty creeping into his voice.
"Just Dominic being a vindictive prick who can't stand seeing Colton Racing rising from the ashes," I finish for him. "Trust me, I've been on the receiving end of his games. Last season, he goaded me until I punched him, remember? Resulted in thatlovely penalty that removed all the points I got in Melbourne. It was all over the news."
EJ's eyes widen slightly. "But that was different. That was personal between you two. This was—"
"Also personal," I interrupt gently. "Just not about you personally. Dominic has a vendetta against Violet—against Colton Racing—that goes back decades. You were just convenient ammunition. Easy to harness, even easier to deploy."
He considers this, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "That's what Silas said, too. In different words. More... colorful ones."
I bet. Belforte strikes me as a man who doesn't mince words; he probably added some curse words in Italian for good measure.
"Look, Ethan, Formula 1 isn't just about who's fastest on track. There's this whole other race happening in the paddock, in the media, in boardrooms. Politics and mind games and people trying to get under your skin." I lean forward, making sure he's really hearing me. "None of that matters. What matters is what you do in the car. The rest is noise."
"It's a lot of noise," he says quietly.
"Yeah, it is." My voice softens. "And it's not fair that you got dragged into it before you've even started your first full season. But that's how it goes sometimes. The fact that Dominic targeted you? That means he sees you as valuable. As a threat. Take it as a compliment."
A small smile tugs at his lips. "I didn't think of it that way."
"I want you to know something else. If you ever need help with something you don't want to take to Violet or Belforte—something you think is too small or too stupid or too personal—you can come to me. Anytime. I'm not just your teammate—I'm a friend you can count on."
"Thanks, Will." His tone carries an intense weight of gratitude and slight awkwardness that makes me uncomfortable. "That means a lot."
"Don't get all soft on me now," I say, deflecting the emotion with humor. "I just don't want you distracted when we're fighting for points. Need you at your best, star rookie."
He laughs, the sound lighter than before. "I've been studying your data even from Chicago. Johnson sent me all the sim files. I think I found three places where I can be faster than you."
"In your dreams, maybe." I stand, walking around the table to his side. Before I can overthink it, I throw an arm around his shoulders, giving him a quick squeeze. "Seriously though. You're not alone in this circus. We've got your back."
EJ looks momentarily startled by the physical contact, then relaxes into it. "I know. Violet made that very clear. In Chicago, she was like... I don't know, like a force of nature. I thought she was scary when she's being professional, but angry Violet Colton? Terrifying."
I laugh, ruffling his hair as I release him. "You have no idea. Be glad she was angry on your behalf and not at you."
He attempts to smooth his hair, failing miserably. "Is she always like that? So... intense?"
"Only about things that matter to her." The words come out more revealing than I intended. "The team matters.Youmatter."
EJ nods, something knowing passing behind his eyes. Too perceptive for his age, this kid. I clear my throat, stepping back.
"Anyway, simulator at two? Johnson wants to compare our data on the new front wing design."
"I'll be there." His smile is more genuine now, the shadows in his eyes receding. "And Will? Thanks. For checking on me. For... everything."
"That's what teammates do," I tell him, meaning it. Not just teammates. Friends. Family, almost. The kind of relationshipI wished I'd had when I was fighting through the junior categories, wishing my teammate would be there for me, when every setback felt like the end of the world.
Chapter 16
Approachable by comparison
William
EJ and I are still discussing brake points when the atmosphere in the room shifts—that subtle change in air pressure that happens when someone powerful enters a space. I turn toward the door just as hushed whispers spread through the break room. And then, everything narrows down to her.
Violet.
But not Violet as I've known her. This Violet stops conversations mid-sentence, commands attention without trying. She stands in the doorway, power radiating from her like heat from an engine after a race, sharp lines and sleek threads, and my lungs forget how breathing works.
