Adrenaline: A Lestappen Story

29- Sting of Betrayal

BRAZIL GP

RACE DAY

The sting of betrayal would be harmless if it killed the love along with it.

As the Brazilian Grand Prix loomed closer, Charles found himself pondering the curious absence of nerves and anxiety that typically accompanied such high-stakes races. If he could emerge from this season with the trophy in his hands, he would be immortalized in history. A single championship under his belt, and his name would resonate for generations to come. This was what Ferrari had hired him to do. Despite his charisma and the profitability of his image, it was his destiny to restore Ferrari to its former glory, a task he had yet to accomplish after six years. Patience was wearing thin within his team, but this season had reignited a spark in them all, dispelling the doubt that had haunted Charles for the past two years.

If asked last year what mattered most to him on the track, Charles would have answered without hesitation—winning. But now, as the season drew to a close and the outcome remained uncertain, it was Kelly's words that echoed in his mind. They reminded him that if he truly cared for Max, the best course of action might be to let him go.

The crash had been attributed to an issue with the car, but Charles had been right behind Max, and the movements hadn't seemed out of the ordinary for any other driver. However, it was a mistake Charles could swear he'd never come close to making before. Max was capable of spinning his car a full three-sixty degrees and still going on to win with a comfortable lead. While Charles's relationship with Max might be helping him focus on the track, could it be doing the opposite for Max? Was that something the Ferrari driver could overlook? Could Charles hold that trophy in his hands, knowing that their intimate moments in the bathroom had somehow shaken Max's faultless driving?

Charles desired the Championship more than almost anything, but winning it at Max's expense was never an option. With that thought in mind, Charles hoped that after the race, during their usual night together, he'd be able to extract some answers from Max and find common ground. They needed to understand that once they were on the track, they were competitors, not lovers. But once the helmets came off, they belonged to each other again, regardless of the outcome or risks taken. They had to ensure the results of the season were as fair as possible—may the better driver win.

To Max, on the other hand, maintaining calm proved challenging that day.

"Don't stress too much," Christian reached out to him as the Dutch driver readied himself for the race, zipping up his suit. "If anything, today we won't have anyone snitching us out; we'll have the advantage." The older man's words offered a brief reassurance, tapping Max's shoulder before moving off to confer with one of the engineers.

The air in the paddock hung heavy with anticipation, a palpable tension that gripped Max's every breath. This culmination of months of fierce battles on the track, the culmination of who he was as a driver. As he paced back and forth in the dimly lit confines of the Red Bull Racing garage, Max could feel the weight of the championship chase bearing down on him.

Every step seemed to echo the beating of his heart, a relentless drum that mirrored the intensity of his emotions. The championship standings were razor-thin, and the upcoming race held the power to reshape the narrative of an entire season.

The team moved with a quiet sense of urgency, their focus amplified by the gravity of the situation. Mechanics fine-tuned the car, engineers scrutinized data, and team strategists deliberated over every possible scenario. Max, however, found himself drowning in his own thoughts, grappling with the pressure that weighed on his shoulders. What if this race defined not only his season but his legacy in the sport, like his father had pointed out?