103: Promised

Max's point of view

'You did this on purpose didn't you?!', I turn around to find Maeve screaming at Horner.

The woman who is taking my interview looks at her too.

'One moment', I smile as I walk towards my team boss and teammate.

'You just want Max to win this championship don't you? You just hired me as the perfect P2, you never expected me to be this good, did you?', Maeve yells, her voice loud and clear.

'Maeve, let's get inside', I place my hand on her back.

'Knock off, Verstappen. I don't want to be mad at you so go away', she looks at me and I can see tears in her eyes.

I motion for her to calm down and I show her the cameras

'What was wrong with my car, Christian? Why are my tires shit?', she asks, now calmy.

'Maeve, I would never ever lie to you, I promise you and Max both are equally good to win this year. We found the problem with your tires and I'm sorry we didn't listen to you, Maeve. There was something stuck between the tires and your car, but we can't let anyone know because it's super unsafe, I hate that we risked your life like this, but if the FIA finds out you are disqualified or Redbull is disqualified, we can't risk that', he whispers to her, holding her hand.

'There was something wrong? I wasn't crazy?', she asks.

I shake my head. 'You aren't crazy', I smile. 'Well, maybe just a little bit'.

'I'm so sorry, Christian. I shouldn't have yelled at you like this', Maeve apologizes.

'I would've done the same, It shows that you want to win this championship more than anything and that assures me that you are one of the greatest drivers this world has seen', he smiles and they hug.

I know just what to do to clear her mind.

Sienna's point of view

'P4!', I run into Lando's arms. He meets my body with a warm embrace.

'You're always my biggest fan, huh?', Lando teases, his grip on me tightening just a bit. His laughter is light, but there's an undertone of relief. P4 isn't a win, but it's close. And in a race as wild as this one, it feels like a victory.

'Always', I whisper, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. There's sweat on his brow, his beautiful brown curly hair a little messy from the helmet, but he's never looked better to me.

'I couldn't have done it without you. You really are my good luck charm', he says softly, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

'You don't need luck, Lando. You've got talent', I reply, a soft smile spreading across my face. He always downplays just how good he is, but tonight? Tonight, he really shined.

'Maybe, but having you here makes it even better'. He leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead, and for a moment, the world outside the garage fades. There's no noise, no cameras, just us.

'I'm so proud of you', I murmur against him. He pulls me closer again, resting his chin on my head.

'I'll get that podium soon', he promises, determination burning in his voice.

'I know you will,' I say, already believing it with my whole heart.

We stand there for a moment longer, wrapped in each other. There's nothing else we need to say.

Luciana's point of view

Charles steps out of the car, helmet in hand, sweat still glistening on his forehead. His eyes search the crowd for me, and the second our gazes meet, that signature grin lights up his face. My heart skips, knowing exactly what that look means.

He promised.

As he walks toward me, the noise of the garage fades. His arm wraps around my waist as soon as he's close enough, pulling me into his warmth. 'P3', he says, almost breathless. I can hear the exhaustion in his voice, but it's mixed with pure relief. 'I promised, didn't I?'

I smile up at him, my fingers brushing the side of his face, tracing the line of his jaw. 'You did. My dad's going to be so proud of you'. I lean in, my lips just close enough to his ear. 'And so am I'.

Charles exhales a shaky breath, his forehead resting against mine for a brief second. 'I couldn't let him down, or you'.

'You never could', I whisper, feeling the tension melt from his shoulders as I hold him. His arms tighten around me as if anchoring himself. 'I'm so proud of you, Charlie. You worked so hard for this once again'.

His smile softens as he pulls back, just enough to look into my eyes. 'We made it. I told Ferrari, and I told your father I'd get that podium. And now, we are having a great season', His voice trails off, the weight of the moment sinking in.

'You did it for Ferrari', I murmur, brushing his hair back. "But also for us."

He leans in, pressing his lips softly against mine, the kiss filled with everything he can't quite say in words. When we pull apart, the crowd noise floods back in, but I don't care, cause I have my protector right near me.

'I'll never stop proving it', he whispers, eyes locked with mine.

Maeve's point of view

I'm sitting on my bed, in our hotel room.

'Get ready', Max enters, his voice soft but firm, pulling me from my thoughts.

I glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. 'For what?'

He gives me a small smile, the kind that tells me he's up to something. 'We're going out. I know what you need'.

I'm about to argue, tell him that I'd rather stay in, but something in his eyes stops me.

'Trust me', he adds, pulling me gently toward the closet. 'Just put on something comfortable. You'll see.'

I sigh, but there's no point resisting. Max always has a way of knowing what I need before I do. I throw on a simple outfit and meet him by the door. He's already waiting, dressed casually, his keys in hand.

We leave the hotel and make our way down to the strip. Max leads me down a quieter street. We walk hand in hand for a while until we reach a small rooftop bar. It's quiet, intimate, the perfect escape from everything.

He orders us both drinks and pulls me toward a small table near the edge, where we have a perfect view of the city. The lights twinkle below us, but up here, we're alone.

'I know you're still upset', Max says softly, his fingers brushing against mine on the table. 'But you did amazing. You always do'.

I look down, taking a deep breath. 'I just... I wanted to win, Max. I wanted to prove that I can win this'.

'You have nothing to prove', he replies, his voice steady. 'Not to me, not to anyone. You're already the best'.

I glance up at him, and for the first time tonight, I smile. It's small, but it's real. Max leans over, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.

'You'll get that asshole teammate next time', he jokes. 'But for now, just enjoy this moment with your boyfriend'.

I nod, finally letting the tension in my body release as I lean into him. The night stretches out before us, quiet and calm, just what I needed. And in this moment, everything feels okay again.