Page 244 of My French Love Affair

“Nothing. It’s just nice to see you happy, Pops.”

My smile falters, just for the briefest of moments. A fraction of a second.

A tiny crack in my composure.

Because Iamhappy.

And that’s what terrifies me the most.

Chapter Sixty-Three

Frederic

The paddock is alive with an electric tension.

From mechanics making final checks, engineers murmuring to one another over radio comms to the hum of engines filling the air like an unrelenting battle cry; I can feel the weight of it pressing down on my shoulders, buzzing through my bloodstream like a live wire.

Race day.

The energy here is different today - it’s sharper, heavier.

This isn’t just another practice session, another qualifying lap.

This is our final day in Monaco.

Everything about this race demands perfection. Every turn, every millimeter of track, every fraction of a second matters.

I roll my shoulders back, exhaling slowly and forcing my body to stay loose as I stand near the garage. Matthieu, my race engineer, is beside me, running through the final prep, his expression sharp and focused.

"Track conditions are solid - temps are rising slightly, but no rain expected," he says, flipping through his notes on thetablet in his hand.

I nod, stretching out my fingers and letting the information settle in my mind.Good.The last thing I need is unpredictable weather fucking with our strategy.

"Tire strategy?" I ask.

"Softs to start, but we’ll reassess midway. If there’s a safety car, we might shift plans. Two-stop if degradation kicks in too soon, but otherwise, we hold position."

I glance up at the sky - clear blue, sun high. No chance of complications.

"Everything feeling good?"Matthieu asks, his eyes flicking over me, reading my body language like he always does.

I roll my neck, feeling the familiar sharp focus settle over me.

It’s like a switch being flipped - my mind zoning in, my body tuning itself for the battle ahead.

"Yeah. The car’s dialed in."

Matthieu claps a hand on my shoulder, firm and steady.

"Go out there and do what you do best, Moreau."

I nod once, and then check my phone one last time.

A single message - fromher.

Don’t let me down, Moreau. I’ve got money on you.

I smirk, a slow curl of satisfaction spreading through me.

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