Page 53 of Overtake
“I don’t need to drive like an asshole to win.” Nico meets his teammate’s eyes. This isn’t how or where he wanted to have this conversation, but here they are and he won’t back down. “You know your dad’s wrong.”
Wyn’s chair scrapes back so violently it nearly tips. “Don’t pretend you know what I know. Don’t pretend you understand shit.”
“I know pressure, Wyn.” Nico keeps his voice steady. “This reckless driving… It’s not you.”
“This isexactlyme.” But something flickers in Wyn’s expression. “This is what it takes to win.”
“Is it?” Heinrich’s quiet voice makes them both turn. “Look at the times. Data doesn’t lie. Your fastest lap came when you weren’t fighting the car. When you were driving like yourself, not like?—”
“Like what?” Graham’s voice from the doorway makes them all turn. “Like a champion?” He enters like he owns the room, which given WolfBett’s complicated ownership structure, isn’t entirely untrue. Junior trails him. Apparently, he’s found hiscojonesnow that Sebastian’s gone.
“I’m reviewing the telemetry withmydrivers,” Heinrich says, emphasis on the possessive. “Discussing setup adjustments for the sprint.”
“Ah yes. Setup adjustments. Like the ones that put my son in fifth while his teammate excelled. Again.”
“The setups are optimized for each driving style.” Heinrich’s forcing patience past his teeth. “The data explains the results.”
“I’ve seen the data.” Graham stops behind Wyn’s chair. “I’ve seen how some drivers choose conservative approaches...” His hands land on Wyn’s shoulders. “While others remember what racing is really about.”
Nico is tired of this man’s bullshit. “What’s that? Enlighten me.”
Junior snickers. “Getting results. Not just making nice with the competition.”
Nico sits back in his chair. “So we just wreck people now? Cool strategy.”
Heinrich’s hand on his arm is the only thing keeping Nico from curb-stomping Betterton’s face. Heinrich turns to Graham. “Interesting perspective. Given neither you nor Junior have ever raced an F1 car.”
“Experience comes in many forms, Heinrich. As does loyalty.” Graham’s smile turns sharp. “Something everyone in this room might want to remember.”
The threat hangs there, daring Nico to walk out. Heinrich’s grip tightens. Clearly, he knows his champion is standing on a knife’s edge and considering sticking it into someone.
“Now about those setup adjustments.” Graham nods like everyone’s agreed with him. “I have some suggestions.”
Heinrich’s expression says he’d rather eat shit than take setup advice from Graham Pritchard, but years of F1 politics have taught him when to pick his battles. “The sprint format limits our adjustment windows. Any significant changes now could compromise performance.”
“Compromise?” Graham’s laugh is humorless. “Like my son’s compromised grid position?” His eyes fix on Nico. “Or like compromised team loyalty?”
Nico meets his gaze. “My loyalty is to this sport and safe racing for everyone on the grid, including my teammate.”
“Touching.” Junior’s standing in the doorway. “Very noble. VeryBelmonte.”
Nico seriously considers picking up where Sebastian left off. “Did you look up Wyatt Ogilvy yet?”
An amazing array of emotions crosses Junior’s face.
“The data’s clear,” Heinrich interrupts, pulling up comparative telemetry. “Aggressive lines through these corners will result in failure.”
“I disagree.” Graham grips Wyn’s shoulders harder. “They’ll result in exactly what we need. My son understands that, don’t you?”
Wyn’s expression flickers, as if he’ll disagree, then his will crumples under his father’s expectations. “Right.”
“Good.” Graham straightens. “Then we’re agreed. A more aggressive approach, especially in sector 2. Show everyone what real racing looks like.”
Heinrich looks ready to explode. “That’s not how this team operates.”
“That’s exactly how this team operates going forward.” Graham’s tone brooks no argument. “Unless anyone objects?”
The question carries weight beyond setup choices. Nico thinks of Wyn’s crashes, Petra’s car spinning in Singapore, everything this sport should be. He folds his hands in front of him. “Yes. I object.”
