My Formula 1 System

Turning off the radio he had just put on, Luca glanced at Manuela with some expectancy in his face, wondering what she wanted to say.

"What's up?" he asked genuinely, noticing just how disturbed she looked.

Manuela scratched her head lightly, not expecting the atmosphere to be this awkward. Still, she grounded herself, determined not to waste either of their time.

"Luca… I think I'm growing feelings for you."

She said it quickly, like ripping off a bandage. The words came out with such force that Manuela had to inhale to catch her breath.

On the other hand, Luca was just as stung as the person from whom the bandage had been ripped off.

The words froze his thoughts, but he was still driving with caution. Manuela expected to see either anger or flattery, maybe disgust, but what she saw was the indescribable face of a bewildered man.

'I'm very stupid for saying this,' she thought as the car continued on the road, passing buildings and other cars with a hum of silence. No words escaped Luca's lips as he focused on the road ahead.

Perhaps he was waiting for traffic to thin out before he gave a reply, because after they left the buzzing metropolis for the suburbs, Luca glanced her way again.

"What should I do with this info?" he asked his PA.

Shifting in her seat, Manuela's unease was obvious. She admitted her muddle, saying, "I don't know," with a nervous laugh and a cracking voice. "I just wanted to say it early so I can quench it, get it off my chest, and we can joke about it."

"Ohh," Luca murmured, his tone flat but not dismissive.

"I don't want it to turn into… you know, that kind of secretary-boss affair you read about in books. Haha. That's not me. And I don't want this to ever come between you and Ms. Schäfer. I respect both of you too much for that."

Manuela thought she had clarified things, but when she glanced at Luca again, he was smiling. Seconds later, he began to chuckle. The reaction was unprecedented from Luca, as if she had told him a funny tortoise tale.

"Why are you laughing?!" Manuela demanded, resisting the urge to punch his shoulder.

Luca laughed a bit more, shaking his head as he kept his eyes on the road.

"Because you literally said we should joke about it, haha. So here I am, taking your advice."

Embarrassed, Manuela couldn't help but see the sense in his words. Sighing, she sank into her seat, saying, "Fair enough."

It turned out that Manuela was a rare good woman who chose firm restraint over indulgence. She chose not to act on her feelings by chasing after Luca, but instead preserved the trust and dignity of her role, as well as her respect for Isabella.

Manuela had the closest proximity to Luca—she knew where he was every day, what filled his schedule, and followed him everywhere like his shadow.

With that level of access, it would have been easy for her to exploit, even though she was five years older than Luca. Many women her age would have definitely made sly attempts by now.

Much to Luca's surprise, his PA had strong internal restraint.

This made Luca see why Isabella had been backbiting. He wondered if women carried some kind of invisible energy only they themselves could feel.

He couldn't recall Manuela ever making a move on him, yet maybe Isabella was picking up on that undercurrent. This amused Luca, and he laughed quietly to himself.

"Don't forget to finish updating all briefs tonight. Send via e-mail. I'll review it first thing in the morning," Luca said to Manuela, who was already opening the car door.

They had stopped at a three-way junction where Luca or Vance often dropped off Manuela if she was on the ride.

The main road continued into the suburbs toward Luca's property, while the smaller asphalt road to the right led toward a very large modern complex of elegant, tasteful apartments.

Luca stayed on the straight course, but Manuela unbuckled and stepped out with her bag and laptop briefcase. "Got it. I'll send it to your inbox before midnight," she said. "See you next week, boss."

Luca gave a quick laugh at her "boss" remark, but didn't bother replying. He simply shifted gears and accelerated down his own road.

In just a couple more minutes, he reached his property, rolling in between the fields with happiness and contentment.

The big house was kept sparkling clean by the staff who came in regularly, so Luca never had to fuss over a single thing.

Stepping into the kitchen, he helped himself to a hot, steaming cup of chocolate—his favorite drink, unlike the energy drinks he was an ambassador for.

After about two hours of self-care, Luca was fully settled in, the travel fatigue gone, replaced by homely silence and comfort.

With nothing pressing at hand, he finally had the leisure to pick up his phone, check through his missed calls, piled messages, and do a little scrolling through his feeds.

But Luca's mind didn't stay away from the bits of racing for long.

PROVISIONAL CONSTRUCTORS' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (ALL 10)

Position | Team | Points

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1. | Trampos Racing | 146 ↑

2. | Squadra Corse | 140 ↓

3. | Haddock Racing | 128

4. | Bueseno Velocità | 105 ↑

5. | Outback Performance | 92 ↓

6. | Jackson Racing | 48

7. | Nordvind Racing | 19

8. | Iberia Grand Prix | 15

9. | Velox Hispania | 2

10. | Alpine Swiss F1 | 2

Luca didn't quite know how to term it, seeing Trampos Racing sitting proudly at the top of the standings. Was this mission accomplished already?

Even if Trampos were to score zero points from here until the end of the season, this campaign would already stand as the finest in the team's history.

So yes, it was a milestone to revel in, an accomplishment that wrote a new chapter in Trampos' legacy, but Luca knew better than to ever call it "mission successful."

The only mission that mattered was the Constructors' Championship trophy itself, and until that was firmly in their grasp, everything else was just progress.

Squadra Corse team principal, Mr. Campanella, had gone on interviews claiming that Luca deliberately put immense pressure on Marko on the home straight, so Marko would crash and Trampos would claim the lead.

"He is a menace to the integrity of the grid. We've seen it more than once. That is not a man worthy of my respect."

Luca had no doubt he would be required to reply to that statement the next time he came in front of cameras.

Sitting right there at home, he wondered what reply could possibly serve him better than silence. Words would only fuel Campanella's fire, but silence?

Not that Luca didn't own what he did. He had skills, and he was going to use them when necessary to serve himself and his team to victory over their foes.

Besides, receiving criticism from Squadra Corse was just like the pot calling the kettle black.

PROVISIONAL DRIVER'S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP10)

Position | Team | Points

------------------------------------------------

1. | Luca Rennick | 154

2. | Ailbeart Moireach | 106

3. | Jimmy Damgaard | 104 ↑

4. | Antonio Luigi | 91 ↓

5. | Luis Dreyer | 73

6. | Marko Ignatova | 50

7. | Buoso Di Renzo | 36

8. | Denko Rutherford | 23

9. | Elias Nyström | 19

10. | Hank Rice | 14

Looking at the Driver's Standings, Luca stroked his jaw as he realized the reason behind Squadra Corse's fury being deeper than the usual.

Their champion, Luigi, whom they treated like a toddler king, had just fallen down to P4 on the standings.

Luigi was their everything: he was the heart of the team, and their golden boy whom they pampered. When he thrived, the whole garage glowed with pride, and when he faltered, it was as though the entire outfit had been personally wounded.

The team liked to treat every stumble of his as a collective tragedy, and then every triumph like salvation.

Well, since Luigi was yet to win a race this season, that meant Squadra Corse were currently burning in their tragedy arc.

Jimmy Damgaard was up in P3 now, only two points behind Ailbeart Moireach, and those two points could mean nothing in the next race if he performed just as spectacularly as he had in George Park.

It was a surprise how Jimmy Damgaard managed to be where he was now on the standings in just two races as a super driver.

'What if he's going to be the last-breath contender for the championship, and I still think it'll be Antonio?' Luca thought as he switched from the standings to other important sections in the F1 application.

There, he saw more news about the shooting and the measures FIA had begun rolling out. There were countless public statements, promises of heightened security, talks about transparency, condemning the act outright, and vowing to work with Australian authorities to bring clarity.

Luca understood their fear and the bad image this would bring.

But Luca hoped he wasn't the only one having a particular idea about this.

A gun slipping into a VIP suite?

Could it be that the assassin, Armando, was granted back-to-back access by someone of authority?

This was highly plausible because VIP suites weren't just open boxes anyone could wander into—they required clearance, and even biometric checks sometimes.

For Armando to bypass all of that with nothing more than a tuxedo and a hidden Glock meant he either had extraordinary luck or, more likely, someone on the inside had waved him through with a smile.

Quickly, Luca minimized the application and opened his browser.

In the search bar, he carefully typed in: Vaughan French.

The results gave him articles that echoed about the man's survival from the assassination, but Luca was looking for his full business identity.

Finally, he came across a faithful snippet. There, he learned that Mr. French was a 57-year-old Englishman with an estimated net worth of around $480M, much of it tied to successful acquisitions and stakes in high-end automotive suppliers.

Mr. French oversaw the funding of billions at Rosso Capital Investments as the chairman, specializing in motorsport and luxury brand partnerships.

For the field of motorsport, Luca wasn't surprised to see Ferrari there alone. He already knew about this one.

However, for the luxury brand partnerships, he saw three different brands. Two were simply modern luxury brands, while one was a major goddamn empire in the UK.

'Margot Hawthorne. This woman,' Luca thought as he stared at "Hawthorne Group" in the snippet.

Of course, that shooting had to do with whatever the tycoon had gotten herself into.