Apex | Charles Leclerc

Chapter 53

I just realized that there was so much drama in this book and even I need more fluff between these two. SOOOOOO, we're going to have more romance-y stuff in the next few chapters and there will be a lot of time jumps as we catch up to the present :) 

Enjoy!

*****

November 5, 2025 - Italy

There's a feeling of helplessness whenever you watch someone do your job. You know you're capable of doing it yourself with the same kind of energy and fierceness. You know that people will respect you because you know what you're talking about. You know that you will hold every single person's attention, each of them hanging on to your every word.

I am capable of that.

But right now, I don't think I am.

I sat with my back straight, eyes trained on the corner of the wooden table in front of me that was a bit chipped. On the other side of the room, Manuele was sitting on the same set of furniture. I don't know how he looks because I never let my eyes move to his direction, even when I was on the stand as Imara questioned me. His lawyer had his own turn to fire question after question at me and I answered it well, knowing almost every manipulative tactic that would cause a witness to play with their words.

The trial has been quick because Imara didn't hold back. She presented every single form evidence— the rape kit, blurry CCTV cameras from the alley, and verbal admissions from a few people who saw Manuele walk out of the club. Their attempts were futile, Imara ready to stand up with the word objection coming out of her lips. I caught myself a few times making a move to do the same, but her hand on my wrist stopped me.

I glanced behind me to see Charles sitting on the front row, face completely stoic save from whenever I turn around. As soon as he sees my face, his features soften and he gives me a reassuring smile.

He's been a godsend these past few days. The trial happened in between race weekends and he's stayed with me every day and night since it began. I'm mostly thankful that he didn't treat me like a fragile piece of chinaware, walking on thin ice as if he was waiting for me to break. He knew when I didn't want to talk about it and knew when all I wanted was for him to hold me.

My head snapped up as one of the doors in front opened and the judge walked out, all of us standing up.

"Please take your seats." He said, waving a hand.

When we were issued a male judge, Imara and I knew that we had to tread carefully. Neither of us has had any experiences with courts in Monaco so we had no previous knowledge of how to communicate with anyone in the court. With regard to sexual assault cases, there's always a tendency that male judges wouldn't be as sympathetic as female judges. There's a certain bias for their own gender, but it was difficult to tell with this judge.

He kept his expression neutral during the entire trial, responding to objections and going through the process.

The judge began speaking, but I couldn't bring myself to understand what he was saying. There's a fear inside of me that I'm trying to contain. What if he's not guilty? What if he does it again? What if one day, I see him in front of me, and he makes another attempt?

I focus on the chipped corner of the table, trying to distract myself. I wonder if that table has been in this room ever since it got built. I wonder if the chip is because of a court hearing that got heated. I've witnessed one of those where the defendant would get too caught up in their emotions. Or maybe someone just chipped it accidentally? Maybe it was a briefcase or they scraped another piece of furniture on it when they were moving things around the room.