PARTNERS || MAX VERSTAPPEN

XI

Scarlett POV:

Race day.

I've never felt more tense than today. The only thing that was going in my head was the phonecall from that mysterious person. I didn't talk to anyone about this. Simply, because it feels like I can't trust anyone.

Also, my hatred started grow more. I've been very unprofessional since I'm at Red Bull. Sure, the podiums are here, I'm collecting points. I'm not a rookie anymore, people recgonised my talent and hard work.

But I know that they're all waiting. For that one mistake. They're waiting for me to make a mistake, so they have a reason to burn me alive.

Well, they will get what they wanted. Today, I will lose. Sure, I could ignore the call and continue winning. But the picture and the video are worse.

It's like I can already hear the insults, the headlines, the questions.

"She's such a bitch."

"That's how she got into the F1, she fucked her way up."

"As if women could ever achieve anything without their looks."

"First she dated Russell, now she's making out with her own teammate. The whole grid owns her."

"How unprofessional can somebody be?"

"Get her out of F1."

"Did she let Horner fuck her for a seat at Red Bull?"

I ran to the restroom, slammed the door behind me and threw up in the toilet. I felt sick. It's like I was surrounded by a dark haze. It made me dizzy. My whole body was shaking and all I wanted right now is to disappear.

But I couldn't. Because it would only prove him right. I saw his dark cold gaze in front of me. He looked down at me. In disgust. Disgusted by me, who's supposed to be his blood. It's like his gaze cut into my heart, causing a fatal injury. Leaving me there to die alone.

Forcing myself to get up, I washed my face with cold water. Waterdrops fell down my chin as I grabbed a towel to dry my face. Not daring to look into the mirror, I left the bathroom.

I sat down on the couch in the living room. I'd have to leave in an hour to get to the paddock in time. Still feeling weak because I threw up, I closed my eyes.

Suddenly my phone started ringing. In panic, I grabbed it and stared at the display. The past few days my phone has been dry. There were no calls from anyone, my friends and I barely texted because of the busy race week. It was a private number again.

My hands shaked a bit, my lips felt dry. But I picked up the call. I recgonised the voice. It was the same like the first time.

"Hello Addams."

I didn't answer.

"Not in a good mood today? That's too bad. It's an important day, isn't it?"

Important day. Yeah, where hell starts.

"I'm sure you're a clever girl, but I'll just remind you again. Win today and your career is over."

The last words kept repeating in my head. I've worked for this since my childhood. And it to be over just in one day would probably kill me.

"Have a pleasant day today, Addams."

Then the call ended. I stared at the dark display. I can't win today. 

A loud growling thunder was able to be heard from outside.