Page 162 of Downforce

CHAPTER 43

Max

Four Weeks Later …

Abu Dhabi

He’s coming up fast, I realize as I glance in my left side mirror again. In front of me is Travis and almost right behind is a driver from Maxim, who’s been tailing me the entirety of the first twenty laps of this final race of the season.

My strategy is to stick close to Travis until I can make my move. Even if the race were to finish right at this moment, I would place number two in the overall standings this season. The highest I’ve ever been in my professional F1 career.

That’s not good enough.

I promised the woman I love right before the race that I would see her at the end of it with tears in her eyes because she just watched me achieve greatness. A promise I intend to keep. Even when it means beating her brother.

Travis and I are within a few points of one another. So close that whichever one of us finishes will be crowned king of the season.

My engineer’s voice breaks through the piece in my ear, “How are your tires, Max?”

“They need changing,” I reply.

With twenty more laps left in the race, now is a good time to pit. If I’ve timed it right, I can ride the soft tires until the end of the race.

The pit stop is in and out, less time than it takes most people to get their keys out of their pocket, before I’m racing back onto the track. I ask for an update on where I’m at.

Briefly, my position slips to third place, but I’m back in second when the Maxim driver leaves a hole as wide as the Louvre open for me to successfully slip through.

With ten laps to go, I gain on Travis. I know he hasn’t gone in for his pit stop yet. I bide my time while the scar on my arm starts to throb with the anticipation coursing through me.

The injury from that night in Sao Paolo doesn’t hurt so much as it reminds me of how close I came to losing Annalise. My bitch of a mum’s resentments and Edwin’s betrayal still cause an ache in my chest whenever I think about it.

But knowing that within minutes I’m going to be the second Severino to win this title, while they’ll have to find out about it from a jail cell, is more than enough retribution. My real win will come later on today without thousands of cheering fans watching.

A smile crosses my sweaty lips as I see my chance to pull ahead of Travis’ car. Once I do, I don’t let up. My focus tunnels in on my goal, the final laps of the race breezing by in a haze of lightness, until I hear Drake and my engineer screaming in my ear that I’ve done it.

“Holy shite!” are the first words that plummet out of my mouth. “Holy shite, mates!”

My body and muscle memory take over as I point the car around the rest of the track to circle to my team’s garage. They’re all waiting there, waving the red Amato hats and flags, fists in the air, cheering me on.

This is a familiar scene, played out weeks ago in Las Vegas when we were all crowned the Constructor’s Champions. That was a win for the entire team.

This victory, while not completely mine, is more mine than the previous win.

“Fuck!” I scream out, hands in the air in victory as I stand on top of my car to the gathering crowd.

The moment I hop off of the car I’m swarmed by a sea of red. My team. They’re all here to congratulate me.

While I appreciate it, my eyes scan the crowd in search of the one person I want to hold right now.

She’s there, smiling, eyes glossy from unshed tears.

I cut through the crowd around me like a knife through butter to get to her.

Annalise wraps her arms around me. laughing the moment I take her and spin her around in a circle like we’re the only two fools in the room. Right now, I don’t much care what everyone around us is seeing or thinking or if there are cameras catching this.

I spin and kiss her, thanking her out loud for believing in me. For giving me the faith I never had in myself.

“I never would’ve won this without you,” I say, my forehead against hers once I finally allow her feet to touch the ground.