Page 52 of Overtake
“¿Estás bien?”Nico pulls his sister into a hug and asks if she’s okay.
“Always.” But she’s trembling and that makes him wish she hadn’t stopped Sebastian. “I think I need to get out of here for a bit, though.”
“Food?” Sebastian shifts focus to a different kind of care. “That little barbecue joint we found yesterday?”
“Good idea. Before anyone else gets stupid today.” She grabs Nico’s wrist. “Are you finished soon?”
He snorts. “You know I’m not. Are you at the Fairmont?”
“Of course. On your credit card.”
He nods, glad she stopped arguing with him about money. “Bien. Pasaré por tu habitación cuando termine aquí.” He’ll stop by their room when he’s done at the track.
With a last hug for her and a high-five from Seb, they head toward the paddock exit. Nico watches them go. Knowing Sebastian Mazur saved his sister from a homicidal stalker, and seeing the man go into murder mode are two different things. Nico appreciates Nia’s boyfriend more than ever right now.
He glances toward the WolfBett unit’s front doors. Formula One continues its normal rhythm. Strategists and engineers huddle over data screens, mechanics make adjustments, drivers head for meetings, press and fans rub elbows.
Nico frowns. Someone should check on Wyn, but it won’t be the man’s father.
Racing doesn’t stop for family drama, and sometimes that bothers him. The sport is nothing without the people behind it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Heinrich’salready deep in data analysis when Nico enters the engineering room. Wyn sits at the table, expression closed off. Graham’s criticism shows in every line of his posture.
“Right.” Heinrich pulls up sector times. “P2 and P5.”
“Let’s talk about how some of us got lucky with track evolution.” Wyn’s voice is a knife. “Or how team loyalty seems optional these days.”
Heinrich’s eyes narrow at the interruption. “If we look at the telemetry?—”
“The telemetry shows exactly what my father said. If I’d taken that line through 13 like he wanted, I’d be on the front row.”
Nico crosses his arms. “No. You’d have DNF’d. That line wouldn’t work with your setup.”
“What would you know about my setup?” Wyn sneers. “You’re too busy watching Hayter’s arse.”
That’s met with pin-drop silence and an undercurrent of disapproval. It takes all of Nico’s self-restraint not to reach across the table and break the nose Petra only bloodied.
Heinrich raps the table with his knuckles. “I know your setup because I designed it, Wyn, and Nico’s right. That line would’veput you into the wall.” He pulls up comparative data. “Look at your rear grip through?—”
“It was fine.” Wyn’s parroting Graham’s opinions. “If I was more aggressive in sector 2?—”
“You’d have crashed.” Nico’s not interested in coddling egos today. “Like in practice. Like at Monza. Like every time you drive the way he wants instead of the way you know is right.”
“The way I know is right?” Wyn’s laugh turns ugly. “That’s rich, coming from someone who can’t speak up for his teammate because his tongue’s shoved up Petra Hayter’s asshole.”
One of the engineers mutters, “Holy shit, man.”
“Forfok’ssake, Wyn,” Heinrich snaps.
Part of Nico is stunned that he’s so transparent. A larger part is balling his fist under the table. Yeah, Graham’s a dick, but Wyn doesn’t have to lean into his father’s crap. He’s an adult. He can make adult choices. “This isn’t about Hayter.”
Wyn’s not done. “Isn’t it? Everything’s about her lately. The stewards’ investigation, the community service, the way you pulled your line in sector 3.”
“I took the clean line,” Nico says between his teeth. “It was fastest.”
“Right. Because that’s what matters now?Cleanracing? What happened to winning?”
