Page 2 of Overdrive (Speed Demons #1)

The world outside the garage hummed with restless energy—engines firing to life, mechanics barking orders, the sharp click of cameras from the media pen.

Inside, the air was different: quieter, heavier, like the moment before a storm breaks.

Heat clung to me and made sweat form on the nape of my neck.

I tightened the laces on my fireproof boots, each pull a silent prayer to the gods of speed.

No mistakes. Not today. Not ever.

The world was still speculating about whoLuminisGP's second driver would be afterétienne—who they hoped would be the “comeback kid”—announced his abrupt retirement.

They'd whispered names, analyzed rosters, and even thrown outKimiBertolli'sname, my teammate, as a solo driver, as though the team would fold without a second seat. As if that would ever happen.

They had no idea what was coming.

“Ready?”Kimi'svoice pulled me out of my reverie. His grin was easy, but his sharp eyes missed nothing. He tugged me into a half-hug like we weren't about to detonate a bomb in front of the entireF1grid.

I exhaled. Showtime.

We stepped into the pit lane together, and the world froze .

Conversations died mid-sentence. Heads turned.

Every driver in the paddock stilled. I could feel the shift in the air—the weight of their stares, the slow unraveling of realization.

Helmet in hand, I kept my chin high, letting the midday sun catch the navy and goldLuminisGP logo on my suit. Let them look. Let them wonder.

Kimiled us toward the cluster of drivers, most of whom I'd spent years admiring from afar. Now, I was one of them.

My eyes caught on one in particular: CallumFraser. Even from a distance, his piercing blue gaze locked on mine, unreadable but focused . Arms crossed. Head tilted, as if assessing something he hadn't expected to see.

A flicker of recognition passed through his expression, quick enough that I might've imagined it.

I tore my attention away as we reachedHiroshiTakedaand MaxSchreiberfromStratosGP.

Hiroshi'spolite smile didn't quite hide the curiosity in his voice.

“So,” he began, his words careful. “Your brother… how is he?” It wasn't a question aboutétienne'shealth.

It was a question about why I was here.

“Recovering,” I replied smoothly, rolling my lips together to keep my voice steady. “Forced retirement isn't anyone's goal, but he's doing well.”

Max cleared his throat then glanced atCallum, who still hadn't moved.

The drivers were probably waiting for me to slip up, to falter, to show I didn't belong.

Well, sucks for them. They'd be waiting forever.

I squared my shoulders and stepped further into the group, letting them take me in—a woman in a male-dominated sport.

Let them doubt me. I wasn't here to play nice. I was here to win .

“So, how didLuminisdecide on you to fill his shoes?” MarcoBianchi'svoice cut through the air. His question was pointed enough to make me sweat.

I smiled—sharp and practiced. “Simple. I earned it.”

Marco raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Earned it how , exactly?F2is one thing, but this…” He gestured at the paddock, the unspoken message clear: This is Formula 1.

I tilted my head. “I was there when it happened.

I stood by my brother's side in the hospital, watched him wake up with memories he couldn't outrun and fears he couldn't shake.

When he realized he couldn't get back in the car,Henric—the Luminis team principal—saw something in me—a driver ready to step up when it mattered.”

Marco blinked, caught off guard.Hiroshiand Max shifted, their race boots scraping against the ground as the rest of the setup crew bustled about.

“Luminismade a choice,” I continued. “They gave me a shot. I took it. Now I'm here, and I don't intend to waste it.”

Marco opened his mouth to respond, butCallumspoke first.

“I guess we'll see soon enough, won't we?”

The challenge was subtle, but it was there, and damn, his subtle Scottish accent had my cheeks warming.

I met his gaze without flinching, narrowing my eyes slightly. Yeah, I guess we will.

His chin lifted, just barely, before he turned away.

I pivoted, surprised to find that without my noticing, the engineers had lined the cars up in a V shape, crews directing each driver to pose a certain way while the cameras flashed.

Kimiand I retreated toward the sixth row, where our cars gleamed beneath theBahrainisun. My fingers skimmed the cool metal, tracing the bold white lettering of my name above theLuminisinsignia.

Mine.

A shadow shifted and the hairs on the back of my neck rose in response. When I turned,CallumFraser was already watching me from the front row. But his stare wasn't a surprise, perse. It was something else. Calculating, maybe, as though I was a puzzle he'd almost solved, but not quite.

I just gave him a wary smile, blinking against the heat shimmer between us, and turned.Henric'svoice echoed in my head, sharp as ever. Smile big. Look pretty. Be bold. Give the media what they want, and you'll be a star.

Right. I could play the game.

So I did.

The flashes went off like fireworks, cameras capturing a moment the world would analyze for weeks. This year’s grid, with three world champions, a rookie, and sixteen other experienced drivers. But I wasn't here to be watched. I was here to drive and make a legacy for myself.

They would all see that very, very soon.