“That's one way to put it,”Hiroshireplied, his tone devoid of humor.
My stomach churned as their words sank in. They weren't just dismissing me—they were plottingagainstme.Strategizingto keep me out of the points, out of the competition. And the worst part? It wasn't just the usual suspects. Even someone likeAdrienMorel, who I'd once idolized, seemed to see me as a threat that needed neutralizing.
I should've felt flattered. Mostly, I was furious. These drivers should be focusing on their own success, not making their own alliance to try to push me to the back of the grid. They hadn't even seen me in a race yet!
Fuck them.
I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms. Refusing to let the sting of their words discourage me, I forced myself to stand tall, even if they couldn't see me. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing they'd gotten under my skin.
But damn, it hurt.
My pulse thrummed in my ears as I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt.
I grabbed my phone and slipped back into themotorhome, retreating to my small, tidy room. The space was practical, a reflection of why I'd chosen to stay here instead of in a hotel this week. I wanted to be close to the team, to immerse myself in the endless telemetry[1].
But right now, I just wanted to be alone.
Sinking onto the edge of my bed, my phone was still clutched in my hand. I needed a distraction. Before I knew it, I was back onTikTok, scrolling through the growing wave of edits and comments about me.
At first, it was just fans celebrating myP6, calling me a trailblazer and a force to be reckoned with. But as I scrolled deeper, the tone shifted.
@erik.in.f1: She’s only there because of her brother. Let’s be real.
@thatbitchcassie: Another diversity hire ruining the sport.
@foreverformula1: She should stick to the kitchen, not the grid.
@fraserfan.17.4ever: Fraser’s gonna smoke her tomorrow. She doesn’t stand a chance.
My eyes burnedas the words blurred together. I'd known this would happen. Of course, I'd known. Women inmotorsport had always faced this kind of scrutiny, this kind of vitriol. But knowing didn't make it easier to stomach.
My thumb hovered over the app. For a moment, I considereddeleting it altogether. But then, I thought of the fans whodidbelieve in me.
I wasn't here for the doubters. I was here for the ones who believed. And for myself.
With a deep breath, I exited the app and set my phone aside. Tomorrow was race day. My first GrandPrix. The world would be watching, waiting for me to falter.
Let them wait.
I undressed, peeling off each layer as exhaustion settled into my muscles. I'd pushed myself and the car hard this weekend so there was ample data for the team to make adjustments, and I was feeling it. This car was unlike anything I'd driven before, and I hadn't even experienced real racing yet.
Sniffling but refusing to let any tears fall, I pulled on comfortable pajamas, then eyed the nightstand drawer that housed my vibrators. I could probably use a release after the tension of the weekend.
No—I should be thinking about the race. About defending my position tomorrow. About proving myself.
But, fuck, instead all I could think about was the wayCallumhad looked at me today. The way he spoke about me in the press conference, voice steady, but his eyes… his eyes said something else.
Ugh.
I should sleep, but I couldn't resist the urge. Before I could stop myself, I was pulling out my rose vibrator and climbing under the covers. I had to be quiet; with the thin walls and all those listening ears, I didn't want my sex life going around the paddock, too.'
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the noise from the outside world. The soft hum of the vibrator filled the room, drowning out the hateful comments that still lingered in my mind. I got lost in the sensation—until a stray thought crept in, uninvited.
Callum.
Not the only way you'll be coming for me.
His name and voice echoed in my mind, mingling with the pressure that was slowly building within me. I imagined his intense blue eyes locked on mine, a smirk playing on his lips as he taunted me about tomorrow's race.
