Page 35

"Ona!" Reece considers pulling over and making her walk.

"What? Sheyna should know what that man is doing to undermine your happiness."

"He did what now?" His mother’s voice has gone deadly quiet.

"It's handled, Mum."

"Oh, sweetheart, it's not handled until I say it's handled. Maiken, honey, you watch yourself around my ex. He's got teeth like a shark and the morals of a bottom feeder."

"I’ve noticed." Maiken glances at Reece, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

"And Reece? Next time you get married, I want a phone call. Preferably before the ceremony."

"There won't be a next time."

"Good answer," Sheyna and Ona say simultaneously.

His mother adds, “Call me Monday, child.”

“I will.”

“You better,” Sheyna says. “Lovely chatting with you, Maiken.”

“You too, Sheyna.”

“Reece, I love you. Ona, do what you can with my first born. Now, I’m going.” Then Sheyna hangs up.

Ona exhales. "Your mother is still terrifying."

Reece nods. "That’s what it takes to survive Graham."

Maiken reaches over and pats his thigh. "I like her."

"Yeah, well, you would. You're both going to gang up on me now."

"Probably." Her smile is pure sunshine and promises hell for him.

The Lusail International Circuit’s first security checkpoint appears ahead, bustling with team personnel and VIPs arriving for the sprint.

Reece pulls into the drivers' lane and they're waved through with minimal fuss. It’s one of the perks of being recognizable.

As they approach the paddock entrance, he turns to Maiken.

"Ready?"

She flashes him a smile that doesn't quite hide her nerves. "Born ready."

They park, clear security, and step into the paddock as a unit. Reece keeps pace with Maiken, resisting the urge to reach for her hand. She doesn't need anchoring.

The paddock is a riot of color and movement.

Team personnel hurry between hospitality units and garages.

Media crews are setting up for pre-race coverage.

Sponsor representatives shepherd VIP guests through the exclusive areas.

Music pumps from somewhere, crowds flow into the stands, car engines rumble.

Of course Maiken draws attention. Which is perfect because Reece wants everyone to see his amazing wife.

He keeps a subtle eye on her as they weave through the crowd.

She tries not to show it, but he can tell she's as overwhelmed as she is excited by F1's energy.

Mai takes everything in — the noise, the smell of rubber and fuel, the sheer speed of the paddock and garages, and it hits him again: She doesn't know this world, but she came anyway. She's standing beside him, and she went to war to stay here.

Just past the media row, Lina breaks off from a conversation and intercepts them. She wears crisp white linen and mirrored sunglasses, and her walk is as sharp as her stare.

She gives Maiken a once-over and nods. "You look fabulous."

"Thank you." Maiken sounds steady.

Lina lowers her sunglasses just enough to meet her eyes. "Be careful."

Maiken's smile doesn't move. "Everyone keeps saying that."

"Good. I'm glad you're listening." Lina glances at Reece, then back to Mai.

"Graham plays long games. Junior plays dirty ones.

If you're going to last here, don't ask the team to protect you.

Rely on your wits and your people." She nods.

"Like me." She slips her arm through Maiken’s.

"Come. We have VIP seats. I'll introduce you to more of the WAGs. "

Maiken hesitates, looking back at Reece.

"Go on." He nods. "I need to suffer at Ona’s hands. I’ll see you after the sprint."

She studies him for a second, then squeezes his arm gently, a brief touch that says more than words can in this public space. "Drive fast."

"Always do."

As his wife leaves, Reece watches her smiling and chatting with Lina as if she’s always been a part of F1. Everything has changed in the space of a week, but the paddock politics are only beginning to shift in response.

Ona bumps his shoulder. "If you're done staring, we have work to do."

He blinks and turns away. "Right. My punishment. Let's go."

They head to the gym where Ona doesn’t quite break him, then return to the Nitro hospitality unit.

The calm of his driver's room is a stark contrast to the growing energy outside.

Reece sits on the massage table, eyes closed as Ona works on his neck and shoulders, finding the knots of tension that always form before a race.

"You've brought Maiken into the lion's den."

"It was her choice."

"Was it?"

He opens his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Graham's been running interference since the news broke. Controlling the narrative and limiting access. Now you've invited her in, and put her on display."

"Not on display. By my side. There's a difference."

Ona's hands still for a moment. "Reece, when she was hidden, Graham could spin this as your mid-season crisis. Temporary insanity. Today she's Mrs. Pritchard in the garage, and you're happier."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing's wrong with it. Everything's dangerous about it." Ona resumes her massage. "Happy Reece drives well. That means more wins for Nitro, fewer for WolfBett. Graham's got money in that team."

Reece tenses under her hands. "I know."

"This whole circus? The controversy, the headlines, the 'stripper wife' drama? It's ratings gold for his show. As long as you're fighting to defend her, he wins twice — Wyn gets less competition, and Graham gets content."

"I know that too."

"Yet you brought her anyway."

"Yeah. I did." He blows out a breath, trying not to tense up. "I'm tired of making decisions based on what Graham wants. I'm tired of being the son who has to choose between racing and happiness."

"She makes you drive better?"

"She makes everything better. Which is exactly why he'll come for her harder now." Reece opens his eyes and meets Ona's gaze in the mirror. "I'm done hiding what matters to me, O."

"Good.” She nods. “Just don't underestimate what he's willing to do to win. You've never given him this much ammunition before."

A knock on the door interrupts them.

“Come in,” Ona says.

Misho steps in, tablet in hand, expression focused. "Track temp's up. We've adjusted tire pressures accordingly. Briefing in ten."

Reece nods. "I'll be there."

As Misho leaves, Ona's hands finally still on Reece's shoulders. "Whatever happens today, remember why you're doing this."

He thinks of Maiken's smile that morning, of the way she looked at him like he was someone worth staying for. "I know exactly why."

The driver's briefing passes in a blur of technical jargon and strategy. Reece absorbs it all with the mechanical efficiency born from years of practice, but beneath his calm exterior, anticipation builds.

It’s not nerves. He doesn't get nervous anymore. This is awareness of the car, the competitors, and Maiken watching.

Especially that last part.

He strides toward the garage, fireproofs already on, race suit tied around his waist. The paddock has transitioned from pre-race buzz to focused intensity. Teams hunker down in their garages, final preparations underway as the sprint countdown ticks ever lower.

Asuka meets him at the garage entrance, her tablet clutched in one hand, her expression unreadable as always. "Car's ready. Balance is good. Brake migration is fixed."

"Temperature concerns?"

"Manageable. We've opened the cooling ducts slightly more than normal." She pauses. "You look better today."

Reece raises an eyebrow. "That your way of saying I looked like shit yesterday?"

The hint of a smile touches her lips. "You said it, not me."

"Fair enough."

She glances past him, toward the hospitality building. "Your wife is the reason?"

"For?"

"The focus. It's back."

Reece doesn't want to answer directly. "I'll do my job, Asuka. Like always."

"See that you do."

Inside the garage, the pre-race ritual begins in earnest. Reece pockets his radio and threads its cord through his suit, puts in his earpieces, and dons his balaclava. Next comes his helmet and the HANS unit. The world narrows as sound is muffled.

Just before he climbs into the cockpit, he catches sight of Maiken through the garage opening. She stands between Lina and Gudrun, watching with undisguised fascination. She winks and blows him a kiss.

He nods and rests his hand over his heart. Today, Reece is centered in a way that’s been missing for eight months at least.

He turns and settles into the car.

Time to drive.