18. Aurélie #2
I didn’t. I simply let the moment stretch for a beat, then tilted my head.
“Tell me, Mr. Reinhardt, do you prioritize entertainment and money over the safety of the very drivers who line your pockets? Because when I brought the stewards evidence of sabotage, they ignored me. When I begged for them to take me seriously, to increase safety measures, they practically laughed me off. Why?”
A ripple of unease swept the room. Takeda leaned forward with a sneer. “Because you recorded us without permission?—”
“Christ, shut up,” Kowalski hissed, jabbing an elbow into his ribs. The room broke into a low chorus of mutters until Reinhardt raised a single hand, and silence fell again.
His expression didn’t waver, carved from stone. “You’re asking why we ignored you, Miss Dubois? Because this sport has rules. Protocol. Order. It cannot bend every time someone decides they don’t like the risks that come with it.”
“Risks are one thing,” I shot back, pulse pounding in my throat.
“Negligence is another. Drivers understand the danger when they strap into the cockpit. What we should never accept—is the governing body turning its head while sabotage thrives under its watch. You let corruption run unchecked. You let a driver nearly die in a crash that should have been completely avoidable . That’s not order. That’s failure.”
A few gasps. Someone muttered “she’s right,” another immediately countered with “shut her up already.” My face warmed, but I persisted, my pulse steady now.
“So yes, Mr. Reinhardt. I stand by that interview– all the interviews. I won’t apologize for the social media campaign, because if it takes embarrassing you in front of the entire world to force you to act, then so be it.
I’d rather be loud and hated than quiet and complicit.
” I sucked in a deep breath and licked my lips.
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.
I broke protocol because protocol is broken . ”
Reinhardt’s jaw ticked once, but his expression stayed neutral, almost bored. “You paint this as negligence, Miss Dubois. I call it discipline. We did not ignore you because of your gender. We ignored you because you overstepped. There is a hierarchy here, and you are not in it.”
Heat scorched my chest. “Not in it,” I repeated through gritted teeth. “You mean because I don’t fit your mold. Because I’m not a man in a tailored suit, or a driver with a contract worth millions. Because I’m a woman, you thought I was easy to dismiss.”
Morel barked out a laugh. “Maybe because you behave more like a fangirl than a professional. First you play watchdog, then you play house with Fraser?—”
My blood boiled so hot I saw red. Callum’s chair scraped back sharply, his glare lethal. “Say one more word about her,” he said, voice calm enough to terrify, “and you’ll regret it.”
“Saint Callum,” Schreiber mocked under his breath, smirking. “Can’t separate his cock from his cause.”
That broke Marco’s composure. He shot forward, hands braced on the table, every line of his body screaming violence. “You shut your fucking mouth. She’s done more to protect this sport in four months than you have in your entire career.”
Kimi’s tone was quiet but lethal. “Insult her again, and I’ll make sure the whole world knows exactly how often you cut corners on track.”
The room erupted again, voices overlapping with snide comments from Morel’s side, growls of defense from ours. My heart thundered against my ribs, but I didn’t shrink. I straightened, fire in my throat.
“Thank you,” I said, loud enough to silence half the room.
“Because right there—” I gestured to Schreiber, to Morel, to all of them who had laughed and shook their hads—“is the proof. You can call me attention-hungry, call me emotional, call me whatever the hell makes you feel bigger. But you can’t call me wrong.
I was right about the sabotage. I was right about the danger.
And the only reason it took this long for anyone to listen is because you couldn’t stand that a woman said it first.”
Reinhardt didn’t so much as blink. His expression stayed cold and surgical. “The FIA doesn’t legislate feelings, Miss Dubois. We legislate rules. If you feel slighted, that is regrettable, but the facts remain unchanged.”
The words were ice water. Clipped, calculated, and heartless. For a second, the silence in the room throbbed, every set of eyes on me.
Then Takeda leaned back in his chair, voice slick with condescension. “Perhaps the GPDA would be a more appropriate venue for your… activism.”
My jaw clenched, but before I could speak, Marco laughed.
The kind of sound that made the air crackle.
He leaned forward, elbows braced on the table, grin wolfish.
“Careful,” he drawled. “She’s done more for safety than the entire GPDA has in years.
If she did take it over, at least someone would be doing the damn job. ”
A murmur swept the room like a current. One or two smirked into their hands. Others bristled, muttering something about respect.
Kowalski hissed at Takeda, elbowing him under the table. “Shut the fuck up.”
Schreiber scoffed, too loud. “Unbelievable.”
Callum sat back, deceptively calm, but I could feel the storm in him just by the way his fingers twitched against his thigh. Kimi said nothing, but the icy little smile curving his mouth told me everything—he was ready to let the whole place burn.
The silence was razor-sharp, broken only by the sound of my pulse in my ears.
And then there was a loud, insistent beep-beep-beep erupted from my purse.
My heart seized and my stomach bottomed out. Shit . Not here, not now.
I fumbled to grab my purse at my feet, but Callum’s low, calm voice stopped me.
“Aurélie.” His blue eyes were soft as he turned toward me.
He didn’t flinch as every gaze in the room swung toward him; he just reached for my hand under the table, steadying me, then gave me a look and a boyish, just-for-me smile that said I know love.
“It’s time, isn’t it?” he murmured.
“Yes.” My throat caught, so I switched to French, just to get an iota of privacy as I reached blindly into my purse. My hand closed around the pill case ’d bought him yesterday. Two slots were already filled, because I refused to let him slip through my fingers again.
“Pour deux d’entre elles,” I whispered. For two of them.
He nodded once, appearing completely unbothered, and reached for the pill case. In front of everyone.
The air in the room shifted, growing more charged as team officials exchanged glances. Reinhardt’s brows drew together as Callum dry-swallowed the pills with all the casualness of a man ordering coffee. No armor. No shame.
“These?” His voice was razor-steady, even as my eyes burned with tears. “These are because of you. ”
All the air left my lungs.
“My ribs didn’t bruise themselves. My car didn’t crash on its own or by my own hands. This isn’t because I took a bad line. That I could accept. But Morel clipped me. Late braking into the chicane—it’s reckless and illegal, and you all know it.”
My vision blurred. The image of fire and twisted metal slammed into me, the smell of smoke, the terror of screaming his name. I nearly lost him. I almost watched him die.
Callum’s eyes stayed locked on Reinhardt, lethal and resolute. “For the first time in my career, I will have to sit out of a race. But I swear to you, it’ll be the only one. Because I’ll be damned if this institution takes anything more from me.”
The room was grave-silent.
He leaned forward. “And if Aurélie hadn’t screamed loud enough for the world to listen, you’d be holding a fucking memorial right now instead of a meeting.”
You could’ve heard a pin drop.
Even Reinhardt’s mask faltered for a fraction of a second. Then, smoothing his lapel, he cleared his throat. “We will… reconvene on this matter. Further evidence will be reviewed. For now, this session is adjourned.”
The statement was final, but the tension in the room remained like smoke after a fire.
I squeezed Callum’s hand under the table. He hadn’t just defended me. He’d exposed himself—his pain, his body, his truth—as the ultimate weapon.
And as we rose, walking out shoulder-to-shoulder, I knew we hadn’t just survived the wolves.
We’d rattled their fucking cage.