Chapter Twenty-Eight
Henri
The rain hadn’t stopped since we arrived in Belgium two days ago. It drummed against my hotel window in an endless, maddening rhythm that matched the anxiety churning in my chest. I’d been standing aimlessly for twenty minutes, phone in hand, thumb hovering over Felix’s contact information.
This is insane. I shouldn’t be doing this.
But the image of Lily’s text to me last week, the one with a photo of the threat she’d received in Silverstone, had left me feeling sick. Silverstone was devastating for her. She’d gone from winning twenty-five points and her dream race, to nothing. And then to get this?
I was nothing short of worried.
She’d barely spoken to anyone all week. Lily had refused to let me into her hotel room afterward and had basically ignored all my calls and Georgia’s ever since. In the drivers’ briefing yesterday, she’d sat alone, hood pulled up, avoiding eye contact.
But I knew that look in her eyes. I’d worn it myself, that desperate attempt to hold everything together while falling apart inside.
Silverstone had stolen more than points from her.
It had stolen that spark, that fire that made her Lily.
And now, with these threats piling up on top of everything else, I was terrified of what might be left when the dust settled.
How much could one person take before they shattered completely?
My thumb pressed the call button before I could talk myself out of it.
“Hello?” Felix’s confident voice came through. “Who’s speaking?”
“Felix, this is Henri. I need to talk to you. In person. Are you at your hotel?”
A pause. “Yes, but—”
“Which room? I’m coming over.”
Another pause, longer this time. “1247. Henri, what’s this about?”
“I’ll explain when I get there.”
I hung up before he could ask more questions—before I could second-guess this decision again. The walk to his hotel took less than ten minutes through the rain. Each step felt heavier than the last.
Felix opened the door on the first knock. His expression was wary, guarded, in a way that reminded me he’d spent years managing difficult personalities and navigating team politics.
“This is unexpected,” he said, stepping aside to let me in.
The hotel room was immaculate, as I’d expected from Felix. His laptop sat open on the desk, displaying some racing data from last week. A half-eaten room-service meal rested on the table by the window. The man never stopped working.
“You want to sit?” Felix gestured to the chairs.
I shook my head. Sitting felt too casual for this conversation. “I need to tell you something. About Lily.”
His expression changed, concern replacing wariness. “If this is about your attachment—”
I stopped him, putting my hand up. He thought I’d come to tell him about my feelings for Lily—a gesture that would have been dramatic, although not warranting a hotel conversation like this.
That was a conversation hopefully for another time.
He studied me for a long moment. “What is it, Henri? I have work—”
“She’s been receiving threats.” The worlds fell out of my mouth.
The color drained from Felix’s face. For several seconds, he simply stared at me, processing. When he finally spoke, his voice was dangerously quiet. “Excuse me?”
“She received the first one in Miami. Then another in Monaco. There’s been a few, almost one per race.” The words were tumbling out faster now. “I told her to tell you, but she refused. And now they seem to be escalating.”
“And she told you this?” Felix’s tone carried an edge I’d never heard before. “She confided in you?” He seemed almost not to believe me.
“I found one.” I almost added “in her hotel room” but thought better of it. No need to get Lily in more trouble.
Felix turned away, moving to the window. His reflection in the glass looked older somehow, the weight of responsibility visible in the set of his shoulders. “How specific were these threats?”
“I don’t know all the details. You’ll have to ask her.”
“Oh, I intend to.” He spun back around, and I was struck by the fury in his eyes—not directed at me, but at the situation. At himself. “Why wouldn’t she tell me? I’m her team principal. Her…” He stopped, composing himself.
“She’s proud and stubborn. She didn’t want to make a big deal of it.
” I paused, running a hand through my damp hair.
“But I think it’s more than that. Silverstone destroyed her confidence.
She’s been spiraling all week. I can see it, even if she won’t admit it.
And these threats?” I shook my head. “She doesn’t have the bandwidth to deal with them. Not right now.”
“I wish she’d come to me.” Felix scratched his head, his face turning slightly pink. “I just don’t understand why.”
“Because of the sponsor.”
Felix’s hand froze mid-scratch. His eyes locked onto mine.
“BetHere,” I said. “She knows how much that deal means to Rennen. She was terrified that if she raised the alarm, it would spook them. The threats mention losses from sports betting.”
Felix closed his eyes. A vein pulsed at his temple. When he opened them again, his expression changed—the anger was still there, but underneath it, guilt clawed its way onto his face. That was a look I recognized all too well.
“You did the right thing, telling me,” he said finally. “Even if it was difficult.”
The words should’ve have brought relief. Instead they settled like lead.
“She’s going to hate me for this.”
“Probably.” He didn’t sugarcoat it. “But it doesn’t change that it was the right thing to do.”
I nodded, though the guilt didn’t ease.
Felix opened his phone, already shifting into crisis-management mode.
“I’ll contact security immediately,” he said, more to himself than to me.
“And the FIA. They need to be aware. We’ll need to review all her mail, increase security presence around her.
” He looked up. “How is she right now? Beyond the obvious.”
I thought of Lily in the paddock this morning, hood up, shoulders hunched. The dark circles under her eyes that makeup couldn’t quite hide.
“Barely holding it together. Silverstone was rough.”
“Rough” didn’t capture the hollow look in her eyes or the way her hands shook when she thought no one was watching.
He nodded, walking me to the door. “Henri?”
I turned back.
“Thank you. I know this wasn’t easy.” He paused. “She’s lucky to have someone who cares enough about her.”
The words should’ve comforted me, but they didn’t.
The walk back to my hotel felt longer than the journey over. The rain had intensified, coming down in sheets that soaked through my jacket within minutes. I didn’t bother running. The cold water felt appropriate somehow, like penance.
What have I done?
Lily had trusted me. Not completely, not with everything, but she’d let her guard down enough to admit vulnerability. And I’d taken that trust and thrown it back in her face by going to Felix.
Except that wasn’t fair. She’d told me about the threats, yes, but she wasn’t dealing with them.
By the time I reached my hotel, I was thoroughly drenched and no closer to resolving the war in my head. The elevator ride to my floor felt dreadful. I wanted to text Lily, to warn her, to apologize, but there was nothing I could say that would make this better.
I’d made the right choice. I had to believe that.
Even if it had cost me whatever we were building between us.
Even if she never forgave me.
I did this for you, I thought, as if she could hear me. I hope someday you’ll understand.
But understanding and forgiveness were different things. I knew that better than anyone.