Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Michel doesn’t move a muscle, and I doubt anyone dares to breathe. It’s like the world stands still, two opponents facing each other down, but it’s Michel’s shoulders that sag. He grumbles in French, I’m sure unleashing expletives, and storms from the room.
When the door closes behind him, Brienne looks around the table, her gaze lingering a bit longer on Matthieu. “Does anyone else have an opinion contrary to mine about Nash joining this team as a replacement driver for Tomas?”
I’m stunned when Luca immediately raises his hand, although his expression is worried. “I have concerns,” he says cautiously. “And I believe they warrant discussion.”
I’m stunned when Brienne smiles broadly, pride evident on her face. “Well done, Luca. A discussion is indeed warranted.” She pulls the chair out and sits, waving to Nash to join the circle. He sits at the far end from me.
“First order of business,” Brienne says as she folds her hands on the table. “Luca… I’d like to promote you to team principal. Is this a responsibility you’d like to accept?”
Luca is no fool. He nods in affirmation. “I would be honored.”
“Good,” she says with a smile. “You and I will meet later to discuss your replacement, but first, let me hear your concerns not only about Nash but about the worries you and the team were discussing before I came into the room.”
We all freeze again. She doesn’t say what worries, so it’s unclear if she’d been eavesdropping, but maybe she assumed that was the nature of our conversation given Michel’s hotheaded approach.
Luca leans back in his chair, his expression thoughtful as he steeples his fingers in front of him. His voice is calm, measured. “I understand your commitment to bringing in Nash, but I must admit, I have reservations. It’s not just about the driver we need for the short term—it’s about the long-term future of Titans Racing.”
He pauses for a moment, his gaze flicking to the others around the table, as if making sure everyone is following. “Nash has been out of Formula International for three years. Yes, he’s done well in the OWC, but that’s a different beast altogether. That series doesn’t require the same skill set, the same precision. It’s one thing to win in the OWC. It’s another to come back to FI after a serious injury and expect to jump straight in at the top. There’s a reason we hire backup drivers—they’re there to fill a gap, so we can take our time to find the best fit.”
I feel the weight of Luca’s concerns. There’s logic in what he says and I doubt Brienne disagrees.
The new Titans Racing owner stays calm, her voice steady. “I agree that we need to be cautious, Luca. But I’m not looking for someone who’s going to jump into a title-winning car immediately. I want someone who can develop with the team, who has the experience and the mental toughness to get back on track after a setback. Nash is that person. He’s got everything we need—skills, experience and a work ethic that will inspire the team. What’s the alternative, then? To give Bernie the seat and wait for him to find his way? No, I believe we need someone who will challenge the status quo, someone who will help us evolve as a team.”
Luca nods but it’s to Nash his attention is given. “And you think you’re ready? After everything you’ve been through? You know how FI can be—it’s cutthroat. If you struggle at the start, we risk everything. The team’s morale, the sponsors, the momentum we’re building. If you’re not 100 percent mentally prepared, we might face a bigger problem than we anticipated.”
I wince inside because he’s calling Nash out in a way I’m not sure is appropriate. He had a devastating crash, was injured himself, and watched Matteo Ricci basically burn to death in his car. I remember watching it on TV, equally horrified by what was happening while my heart was shredding that Nash had to endure it. We weren’t together anymore, but I still loved him.
Probably always will.
All eyes are on Nash as he sits at the far end of the table. He hasn’t spoken a word yet, just silently observing the conversation. I know this man so well and I recognize that he’s trying to remain neutral, but the strain on his face betrays him. I look back to his hands, clasped in mirror image to Brienne’s on the table. Except his are different… covered in thickened skin and red scars from the burns and reconstructive surgeries. It’s the ugly evidence of what he’s been through. It’s the pointed reminder that he suffered physically, but Luca’s probing goes toward the mental trauma and whether he can handle the pressure.
Nash sits up straighter, his gaze unwavering as he locks eyes with Luca. There’s a quiet strength in his posture, but beneath it, I can see the weight he’s carrying. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he’s silent, as if gathering his thoughts. When he finally speaks, his voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it—a hint of something deeper, something he’s been trying to keep buried.