Page 113 of Hot Lap
By the time we leave the spa, I've shed more than dead skin cells, I've lost the deadweight of self-pity. The women flanking me aren't just friends anymore; they're allies. And allies don't let each other fight alone.
The private dining room we take over next is quiet and low-lit, the kind of place where secrets stick to linen tablecloths and the wine flows without anyone asking for a menu.
Maria scrolls her phone with the intensity of a general reviewing battlefield footage. “I’ve been messaging contacts since breakfast. Every team, every handler, every PR rep I know,but so far, nothing. No one captured a full clip of your AetherX confrontation with Junior. At least not one they’re willing to share.”
Lina sips her wine. “What about staff? Caterers, bartenders? Someone’s always filming something.”
“I’ve cast the net,” Maria replies. “I’m just waiting to see what it catches.”
Gudrun slices her steak with the kind of calm that makes you think she could hide a body with minimal mess. “You shouldn’t have to fight this hard just to prove what everyone already knows about Junior Betterton.”
“No shit.” I swirl a piece of grilled peach through goat cheese and sigh. “The last time he laid hands on me, he left bruises.”
Three heads snap toward me like a synchronized weapon system.
“Hewhat?” Maria’s voice is lethal.
Oh. Right. They don’t know.
“The night I met Reece. It was in Vegas, at a club.” I set down my fork, suddenly needing both hands to stay steady. “Junior grabbed my wrist. He yanked me toward him, real rough. I didn’t know who he was, just that he was high as a kite and way too handsy. Then Reece stepped in.”
Hand trembling, I reach for my wine glass. Even now my body reacts to the memory. “His grip left marks, and the way that asshole looked at me like I was a thing he could take, not a person he should respect. That really pissed me off.”
Gudrun’s brows furrow. “Reece saw that?”
“Wyn too. Reece made Junior let go. Told him to fuck off.” I push back the sleeve of my blouse to reveal the faint yellowish remnants of the assault. “I had these bruises the next day.”
Maria’s eyes flash like someone just lit a fuse. “He did this in a club full of people?”
Lina nods. “Someone’s got to have video of that.”
“Exactly.” Maria’s already typing. “A fly can’t shit without being caught on camera in Vegas. Every club owner knows that covering their ass means recording everything. DBJ fucked with the wrong girl in the wrong city.”
Lina adds, “And patrons? Please. You can’t sneeze without ending up on someone’s TikTok.”
Gudrun taps her glass. “So we find video fromthatnight and expose him.”
I nod, heart thudding. “I'm done hiding. I've spent my entire career being labeled trash for what I do for a living. Well, now it'shisturn. If he wants to play in the public eye, he can face the same fucking scrutiny I do.”
I've been performing my whole life, seeking approval, but this isn't a performance, it’s my future. It scared me to see how quickly that video went viral and people jumped on the bullshit bandwagon. Thanks to the other WAGs, though, I'm no longer fearful. I’m furious.
And it turns out rage is much stronger fuel than fear.
Maria puts her phone down. “Okay, let’s think like him. Junior’s not smart, but he is slippery. He’ll delete or buy up anything that makes him look bad, but he’s not fast enough to clean every trail.”
Lina nods. “And he’s cocky. Probably assumes no one will call him out. Abusers like him always think they’re better than everyone else.”
Gudrun rests her elbows on the table, fingers laced under her chin. “We need receipts. Multiple angles. Something with time stamps.”
“I just texted a friend who handles bands for The Golden Oyster,” Maria says. “That club’s got wall-to-wall cameras. She promised to ask if security footage can verify what happened.”
I frown. “Would the club even release it?”
Maria side eyes me. “Not publicly. However, if someone leaks it anonymously? Then it’s out of their hands.”
Lina gestures toward me. “And if we get it, you don’t post it first. Give it to Nitro. Let them control the rollout, that way you can’t be accused of trying to destroy him personally.”
This is another thing I'm learning about Formula 1. Winning isn’t just about being first or right. It's about being strategic.
