When her eyes find mine over his shoulder, momentary surprise flickers across her face at the scene she's walked into, then something softer when our gazes lock. The connection between us is almost physical, a tether pulling taut.
Panic floods my system. If this guy is a potential sponsor—which seems likely given the formal way they're both dressed, and the business-like vibe of the conversation—I've just created the worst possible first impression. Nothing says "professional racing team" like a driver announcing what could be interpreted as a scandalous relationship with the Team Principal.
"I'm so sorry," I blurt out as they approach. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything important. I was just—"
The man steps forward, extending his hand. "Amir Fadel," he introduces himself, his English perfect with just a hint of an accent. "And you have nothing to apologize for."
I shake his hand, confused by his relaxed demeanor.
"In fact," Amir continues, "there is nothing more impressive than a man who stands up to protect someone and something he cares about. I find it quite admirable." He turns to Violet with a decisive nod. "Consider it done. My team will talk details with yours."
And with that, he gives Violet's arm a friendly squeeze, nods respectfully to Blake and Belforte, and walks out of the motorhome, leaving me standing there completely baffled.
The entire team is looking at me like I've just performed a magic trick without knowing it.
Violet steps closer, her expression unreadable. "What exactly were you doing?" she asks, her tone sharp enough to make me wince.
I start forming an explanation, an apology, something to mitigate whatever damage I've done—when her face transforms, a smile breaking through like sunshine after rain. Without warning, she pulls me into a quick hug.
"You're always thinking about everyone but yourself," she murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear.
"I can't help it," I whisper back, my hands hovering uncertainly before settling lightly at her waist. "I'm worried about...you." This last word is barely audible, meant for her alone.
She steps back, patting my shoulder in a gesture that could read as merely friendly to anyone watching. Then, in a voice meant for everyone to hear, she announces: "William just helped me close a particularly difficult deal I've been chasing for a year."
The tension in the room dissolves into smiles and subtle celebrations—everyone conscious of the media presence outside but clearly relieved. Belforte's face splits into a wide grin, and Blake looks like someone just lifted a piano off his chest. Felix actually laughs out loud, clapping me on the back, while EJ, Maya, Tom, and James exchange amused glances at my obvious confusion.
"What deal?" I ask, like I've missed several chapters of a book everyone else is reading.
Violet's eyes sparkle with contained excitement. "Let's just say our food partner will be a really amazing Egyptian restaurant chain that I've always loved. They're exceptional with traditional dishes but also world cuisine, so..."
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, partly from relief, and partly from the absurdity of accidentally helping secure a sponsorship while I was busy worrying about damaging the team's reputation. The stress I've been carrying since the airport ambush releases in that laughter, and suddenly, Belforte and Blake are there, ruffling my hair and squeezing my shoulders like I've just won a race.
"The golden retriever energy strikes again," Felix teases. "Failing upward is truly your superpower."
"I didn't even do anything," I protest through my laughter.
"Sometimes," Blake says wisely, "it’s the best strategy."
Violet steps back, addressing the room with renewed authority. "Also, today, those rumors will be over. I want everyone at top level; don't let yourselves be intimidated. If anyone asks questions, you don't know and move on. We're focusing on racing, and William and EJ will teach everyone on track that no one messes with us." Her voice carries confidence that settles over the room like a shield. "We're in a good moment. Let’s keep it that way."
She exchanges a meaningful look with Belforte. "Meanwhile, Silas and I need to address some things directly with a certain person."
There's no need to specify who she means. We all know. The puppet master who thought he could break us with a few leaked photos.
Dominic Harrington.
Chapter 26
The stage is set
Violet
The Vortex Racing motorhome looms ahead like a fortress—gleaming, imposing, enemy territory. Belforte walks beside me, his silence more comforting than words could be. His footsteps match mine perfectly as we cross the paddock, ignoring the clicking cameras and murmuring voices that follow us like persistent shadows. I keep my chin high, my expression neutral.
Let them stare.
Let them whisper.
