Page 189 of Knot So Lucky
I'm going to hit the wall.
Training takes over. I ease off completely, letting the car scrub speed naturally rather than fighting for grip that isn't there. Correct the slide with careful inputs that account for the lag. Pray that the tires can handle the sudden load transfer.
The car kisses the barrier—barely, just a scrape of carbon fiber against concrete that costs me speed but not structural integrity.
I bring it to a controlled stop on the run-off area, heart hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat.
"Rory! Status!" Richard's voice is sharp with concern.
"I'm okay." My hands are shaking on the wheel. "Car had some kind of malfunction. Engine mapping changed mid-corner, and steering was lagging."
"Get back to the pit. Now. We're red-flagging the session."
The drive back is careful, testing each system as I go. Everything seems fine now—power delivery normal, steering responsive, no warning lights or obvious damage beyond the scrape on the side.
Which makes it worse, somehow.
Because if it was a consistent failure, we could diagnose and fix it.
But random, intermittent problems are nightmares in racing.
Elias is already at the diagnostic station when I pull in, fingers flying across keyboards with focused intensity. Adrian joins him, pulling up system logs on a secondary screen.
"Telemetry shows a firmware update," Elias says grimly. "Pushed in real-time from an unknown IP address. Changed theengine mapping parameters and introduced artificial lag in the steering response algorithms."
"Can you trace it?" Luca asks, appearing at my side and looking murderously angry.
"Already trying." Adrian's expression is cold, calculating. "But the IT logs have been wiped. Conveniently, all access records for the last six hours are just... gone."
This wasn't mechanical failure.
This was deliberate sabotage, executed remotely while I was driving, designed to cause an accident that could have killed me or at minimum destroyed months of work.
"Marco wasn't even here today," I point out quietly. "He's on scheduled leave—took his kids to some amusement park. I saw the photos on his social media."
Which means either he's not involved, or this is a larger operation with multiple actors.
"We'll figure it out," Elias promises, his hand finding mine and squeezing gently. "I have people working on tracking the IP. Adrian's pulling financial records for everyone with system access. We'll find who's behind this."
My phone buzzes in my pocket—urgent enough that I pull it out despite the circumstances.
Social media notifications. Dozens of them, all tagging me in posts from anonymous accounts.
I open the first one and feel my blood run cold.
@RacingTruth_2025:LEAKED: Lane kidnapping was staged PR stunt. Sources confirm "victim" orchestrated entire scenario for sympathy and sponsorship deals. #FakeOmega #StagedForClout
The post has been shared thousands of times. Comments range from skeptical to vitriolic, people either defending me or absolutely tearing me apart for "faking" a traumatic event.
"How the fuck do they know about the kidnapping?" I breathe, scrolling through more posts that all contain similar accusations. The others crowd around me to witness what I’m processing.
"Someone leaked it deliberately," Adrian says, taking my phone to examine the posts more closely. "These accounts were created recently—all within the last week. Classic disinformation campaign. Create anonymous sources, seed the narrative, let social media amplify it."
"We'll work on it," Elias assures me, though his expression suggests this is going to be complicated to resolve. "Track the accounts, identify the coordinating source, potentially take legal action against the worst offenders."
"This is just another bullshit stunt to bother you," Luca says firmly, his Alpha scent spiking with protective aggression. "They do this shit to me all the time. Anonymous accusations, fake controversies, anything to distract from actual racing performance. Just ignore it."
The advice is sound, but hard to follow when my phone won't stop buzzing with notifications.
