Page 87 of Hot Lap
Just past the media row, Lina breaks off from a conversation and intercepts them. She wears crisp white linen and mirrored sunglasses, and her walk is as sharp as her stare.
She gives Maiken a once-over and nods. "You look fabulous."
"Thank you." Maiken sounds steady.
Lina lowers her sunglasses just enough to meet her eyes. "Be careful."
Maiken's smile doesn't move. "Everyone keeps saying that."
"Good. I'm glad you're listening." Lina glances at Reece, then back to Mai. "Graham plays long games. Junior plays dirty ones. If you're going to last here, don't ask the team to protect you. Rely on your wits and your people." She nods. "Like me." She slips her arm through Maiken’s. "Come. We have VIP seats. I'll introduce you to more of the WAGs."
Maiken hesitates, looking back at Reece.
"Go on." He nods. "I need to suffer at Ona’s hands. I’ll see you after the sprint."
She studies him for a second, then squeezes his arm gently, a brief touch that says more than words can in this public space. "Drive fast."
"Always do."
As his wife leaves, Reece watches her smiling and chatting with Lina as if she’s always been a part of F1. Everything has changed in the space of a week, but the paddock politics are only beginning to shift in response.
Ona bumps his shoulder. "If you're done staring, we have work to do."
He blinks and turns away. "Right. My punishment. Let's go."
They head to the gym where Ona doesn’t quite break him, then return to the Nitro hospitality unit. The calm of his driver's room is a stark contrast to the growing energy outside. Reece sits on the massage table, eyes closed as Ona works on his neck and shoulders, finding the knots of tension that always form before a race.
"You've brought Maiken into the lion's den."
"It was her choice."
"Was it?"
He opens his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Graham's been running interference since the news broke. Controlling the narrative and limiting access. Now you've invited her in, and put her on display."
"Not on display. By my side. There's a difference."
Ona's hands still for a moment. "Reece, when she was hidden, Graham could spin this as your mid-season crisis. Temporary insanity. Today she'sMrs. Pritchardin the garage, and you're happier."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing's wrong with it. Everything's dangerous about it." Ona resumes her massage. "Happy Reece drives well. Thatmeans more wins for Nitro, fewer for WolfBett. Graham's got money in that team."
Reece tenses under her hands. "I know."
"This whole circus? The controversy, the headlines, the 'stripper wife' drama? It's ratings gold for his show. As long as you're fighting to defend her, he wins twice — Wyn gets less competition, and Graham gets content."
"I know that too."
"Yet you brought her anyway."
"Yeah. I did." He blows out a breath, trying not to tense up. "I'm tired of making decisions based on whatGrahamwants. I'm tired of being the son who has to choose between racing and happiness."
"She makes you drive better?"
"She makes everything better. Which is exactly why he'll come for her harder now." Reece opens his eyes and meets Ona's gaze in the mirror. "I'm done hiding what matters to me, O."
