Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Back in my hotel room after dinner, I’m setting my morning alarms on my phone when a text from Kelley pops up.
Darling, saw the dreadful coverage today. Spent the afternoon and evening recording interviews with ESPN, Entertainment Tonight, and Good Morning America for tomorrow. Finally set the record straight! You don’t need to thank me - just a mother protecting her daughter! Call when you can. xx
My blood runs cold. Multiple interviews? About the data breach investigation?
I hit the FaceTime button before I can talk myself out of it.
Kelley’s face fills the screen, perfectly made up despite it being past twenty-two hundred her time in New York.
Behind her is the familiar backdrop of the Manhattan penthouse Richard bought for her.
Floor-to-ceiling windows show the glittering city lights, a million dollars’ worth of art on the walls.
She’s in her element for her media blitz.
“Petrina! Darling, you look tired.”
“Kelley.” I clench the phone tighter. “Tell me you didn’t actually record multiple interviews about the investigation.”
“Of course I did! That dreadful Paddock Access Daily woman was spreading lies about you. I couldn’t let that stand.” She looks genuinely proud of herself. “I spent the entire afternoon and evening setting the record straight. ESPN was particularly interested in your technical expertise.”
“What. Did. You. Say?”
“That you’re far too brilliant to need stolen data, naturally!
I explained how you’ve been working with technical systems since you were tiny.
” Her smile widens. “I told them you used to play in your father’s garage and you’ve always made the most of your access to F1 technical information.
It’s how you’ve got so far. I made it clear that understanding these systems is practically in your DNA. ”
The hotel room tilts. “Jesus fucking Christ, Kelley!”
Her face freezes on screen. “Language, darling.”
“Language? LANGUAGE?” I’m shouting at my phone now. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? They’re investigating data theft, and you just confirmed I’ve taken advantage of access to technical information my entire life!”
“But darling, I was defending you—”
“You made me sound guilty!” I absolutely want to kill this woman. “You painted me as someone who grew up surrounded by F1 secrets, which makes Dad look terrible too!”
She seems genuinely confused. “I don’t understand. I told them how brilliant you are—”
“What else did you say?” I demand.
“Well, I mentioned your relationship with Nico, of course.” She brightens again.
“How you two have been sharing technical insights much longer than anyone realized. The Entertainment Tonight segment was particularly interested in that angle. I painted such a beautiful picture of your collaboration!”
I slump onto the bed. “You told them we’ve been secretly sharing data for years?”
“Not secretly, darling. Professionally! Two brilliant minds working together, supporting each other’s technical development.” She gestures enthusiastically. “It’s romantic, really—”
“It sounds like fucking espionage!” If I hold the phone any tighter, it’ll crack. “You just made our relationship look like a cover!”
Her perfectly made-up face crumples slightly. “But… I was trying to help...”
“By confirming every bloody suspicion they already had?” I stare at her. “Kelley, they’re not just questioning my integrity, and you’ve just given them a timeline, a motive, and a fucking conspiracy theory!”
The silence between us stretches across two time zones.
“Don’t.” I hold up my hand to the camera. “Don’t give another interview. Don’t clarify. Don’t tweet, don’t post, don’t even breathe in the direction of a journalist or social media.”
“But I can explain it all so easily.”
“You’ve done enough.” The words come out flat and final. “More than enough.”
Kelley’s perfect composure finally cracks. “Petra, I was only trying to protect you. You have to believe that.”
“I do believe you.” And the terrible thing is, I mean it. “But believing you and fixing this are two completely different things.”
She looks small on my screen, alone in her expensive penthouse. “What do I do now?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Let your publicist handle any more requests.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I truly am.”
“I know.” I close my eyes. “But sorry doesn’t fix this.”
I end the call and immediately text Claudia: Emergency. Call me. Now.
My phone rings within thirty seconds.
“How bad is it?” she asks without preamble.
“On a scale of one to ten? Eleven.” I stare at the ceiling. “My mother just accidentally gave them everything they need to destroy my career.”
“Shit. How?”
“Interviews with Entertainment Tonight, ESPN, and Good Morning America.”
“Ohhh.”
“She’s dragged Nico into it too.”
“Alright. I’ll call Victoria and we’ll start damage control. Don’t talk to anyone else tonight.”
After she hangs up, I sit in the silence of my hotel room, thinking about Nico in his room, probably getting his own crisis management briefing.
About Dad, who’ll have to watch his daughter’s career implode because of his ex-wife’s good intentions.
About a championship that suddenly feels out of reach.
She was trying to help. That’s what makes it so much worse.
I pull out my worry stone, the smooth piece of zoisite that’s traveled with me through every race since I joined PNW Nitro. Tracing its familiar surface with my thumb, I stare at Nico’s name in my phone contacts.
Claudia said not to talk to anyone else tonight. But Nico... he deserves to know what Kelley’s interviews will do to both of us.
I hit his number.
He answers on the second ring. “You alright?”
“No.” The word comes out cracked. “Nico, I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” His voice sharpens.
“My mother...” I close my eyes, the words sticking in my throat. “She gave interviews today. Multiple interviews. About us. About the investigation.”
“Ah. What did she say?” His voice is carefully controlled.
“That I’ve had access to F1 technical data since childhood. That we’ve been sharing technical insights for years. That our relationship is some kind of...” I can’t finish the sentence.
“Mierda.” The curse is quiet but full of understanding. “She was trying to defend you.”
“And made us both look guilty of conspiracy.” I squeeze the worry stone until my knuckles go white. “Nico, I never... we never...”
“I know.” His voice is gentle. “Petra, I know.”
“But it doesn’t matter what we know, does it? Not when she’s handed them everything they need to destroy us both.”
Another long silence. When he speaks again, his voice carries a weight I’ve never heard before. “We’ll figure this out.”
“Will we? Your career, your reputation... I’ve dragged you into this mess just by—”
“Stop.” The word cuts through my spiral. “You didn’t drag me anywhere. I chose this. I choose you. Kelley’s interviews don’t change that.”
I want to believe him. God, I want to believe him. But the guilt sits like a stone in my gut.
“I should let you go,” I whisper. I’m not entirely sure if I mean from this call or from my life.
He interprets it as both. “Petra. Mi corazón. You and I are in this together. We’ve done nothing wrong. And we will be fine. The FIA knows your mother.”
“But Graham—”
“I don’t give a fuck what Graham says, does, or thinks. He can suck my balls.”
It’s exactly what I needed to hear him say and I crack up. God, Nico’s so good at that. “You’re right. God. Yes. That man is such a fucking leech. I don’t know how you deal with him, Nico. I really don’t.”
“I often visualize running his ass over.”
I flop back on the bed. “I get that. Considering doing it to my mother right now.”
He laughs.
I sigh. “You probably have your own damage control to deal with.”
“Probably.” Nico pauses. “Petra, whatever comes next, I’m not going anywhere. ?Vale?”
“Yeah, Nico. Thanks.”
After he hangs up, I sit holding the green and pink worry stone, fury and guilt still warring in my chest. I’ve spent years building my career, proving I belong here, and in one afternoon my mother has potentially destroyed it all. Worse, she’s dragged Nico down with me.
The rage builds until I can’t contain it anymore. I hurl the stone across the room with everything I have. It hits the dresser mirror with a sharp crack, spider web fractures spreading across the glass.
“Brilliant, Petra.” I stare at the shattered reflection, multiple versions of my face broken into jagged pieces. “More fucking damage in my wake.”
A knock at the door makes me jump. “Pet?” That’s Dad. I get up and open the door.
He’s in his dinner clothes, worry etched across his face. “Claudia called me. May I come in?”
I step aside and he enters, taking in the cracked mirror. He retrieves the stone from the floor, then settles into the room’s armchair. “Talk to me.”
“She’s destroyed us, Dad.” I sink onto the bed. “In trying to help, she gave them everything they need to paint Nico and me as conspirators.”
“Did you and Nico conspire to steal technical data?”
“Of course not!”
“Have you ever shared proprietary information between teams?”
“Never.”
“Then there’s no proof because there’s nothing to prove.” His voice carries that steady certainty that’s anchored me my entire life. “Kelley’s interviews are speculation and misinterpretation. Facts are facts.”
“But the investigation—”
“Will find what we already know. That you and Nico are innocent.” He leans forward. “Pet, you’ve been dealing with people trying to undermine you since you were fifteen. This is just another Tuesday.”
“This feels bigger than a Tuesday.”
“Because it involves someone you love.” His smile is sad but knowing. “Both Nico and, despite everything, Kelley. That makes the stakes feel higher.”
I shake my head. “Not Kelley. You.”
Dad smiles and hands me the stone.
Miraculously, it’s undamaged. “She really was trying to help.”
“I know. And she’s probably mortified right now, realizing what she’s done.” He stands. “But you can’t control Kelley, Petra. You never could. So focus on what you can.”
“Which is?”
“Getting up tomorrow and doing your job. Racing clean, driving fast, and showing the world who Petra Hayter really is.” He pauses at the door. “Everything else is just noise. Remember?”
“Yeah, but it’s become really fucking noisy lately, Dad.”
He nods. “Some seasons are like that. But the good thing about seasons is that they change, Pet.”
After he leaves, I sit worrying my stone, Dad’s words settling into the quiet spaces between my heartbeats. Tomorrow there will be questions and speculation. But tonight, in the silence of my hotel room, I let myself remember what’s true:
I’m innocent, Nico’s innocent, and I still have races to win.