Chapter 9 #2
It was a reflex. A survival instinct honed over twenty-six years of his suffocating control. If Julian said left, I swerved right. If he said jump, I sat down. My entire existence was built on being the grit in his well-oiled machine.
Obeying him, even to get what I wanted, felt like losing.
“Actually,” I said, trying not to smirk. “It might be better if I came.”
My father’s expression froze. “Excuse me?”
“Four days is a long time for a newborn to be away from her only parent.”
Griffin’s entire body tensed.
“She’ll have you,” my father said.
“I’m not her parent. Griffin is.” I kept my expression neutral, professional. Not the daughter gleefully fucking with her asshole father. “Attachment theory suggests that consistent parental presence in the first weeks is critical for bonding. Separating them now could impact—”
“Griffin’s career requires travel. The child will adapt.”
“Of course. I was just thinking out loud.” I smiled sweetly.
His glare promised murder.
Excellent.
“That’s a good point. So they should come.” Griffin frowned.
“Absolutely not.” Julian glared at us through the screen.
“But you just heard Violet. Consistent parental presence—”
“You are not bringing an infant to the paddock.”
“I wasn’t planning to. Violet can stay at the hotel with her.”
My father’s jaw clenched so hard I heard his teeth grind through the speakers. “Violet stays in London.”
“Even though it’s bad for Hazel’s development?”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Hard.
“It’s better for my daughter not to be there.”
“You know best,” I said sweetly.
If looks could kill, I’d be a corpse.
Worth it.
Selene, sensing the shift, cleared her throat. “That covers logistics. Now, media obligations.” She shared her screen, the race schedule appearing. “Standard interviews Thursday. The focus will be on your performance this season, but we need to be prepared for unexpected questions.”
Griffin nodded. “I can handle the press.”
“This is serious, Griffin.” Julian leaned forward, his expression shifting into something colder, more calculating. The majority shareholder replacing the team principal. “Sponsors don’t pay millions for scandal. They pay for results and clean images.”
Griffin’s expression cooled. “I’m well aware of what’s at stake, Julian. You don’t need to remind me.”
“Strange,” my father said, examining Griffin like he was studying disappointing lap data. “Your recent behavior suggests otherwise. I’d hate to see the board reconsidering your position this late in the season.”
Griffin’s fingers curled against the table edge. “I understand perfectly.”
The tension between them was palpable, even through the screen. I shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Hazel’s sleeping form. She was oblivious to the storm brewing around her, to the way her very existence had upended so many lives.
“I think we’ve covered everything for now,” Dominic said, stepping in smoothly. “Griffin understands the importance of discretion, and we have a solid plan for Monza. Let’s reconvene if anything changes.”
My father looked like he wanted to say more, but after a moment, he nodded curtly. “Very well. Violet, I expect regular updates.”
“Of course,” I said automatically, though all of my updates up until now had been purposefully basic. I refused to be his spy.
“Griffin,” he said, his tone carrying a clear warning, “remember what we discussed.”
With that, he ended the call, his window disappearing from the screen. Selene followed suit after a brief goodbye, leaving only Dominic.
“Well,” Dominic said with a wry smile, “that went about as well as expected.”
Griffin ran a hand through his hair. “Julian’s in rare form today.”
“He’s worried about the team’s image,” Dominic said diplomatically. “And your contract situation gives him additional leverage.”
“You didn’t have to bring that up.”
“Sometimes a gentle reminder of reality is necessary. Julian needs to understand that he’s not the only one with options.”
Surprise baby or no, Griffin was still a two-time champion. I hated the sport and even I knew the man would be sought after. Which honestly made me wonder why he even tried to appease my father.
Dominic smirked. “I think his blood pressure spiked at that one.”
Griffin rubbed a hand down his face. “He’s not the only one.”
I bit my lip, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. These were team matters, contract negotiations that I had no business being privy to.
Dominic seemed to sense my discomfort. “Violet, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, even under these circumstances. Griffin speaks highly of you.”
I raised a brow, glancing at Griffin, who suddenly looked very interested in his nails. “Does he now?”
“Well, he mentioned you’re keeping him in line, which for Griffin is high praise,” Dominic said with a chuckle. “In all seriousness, thank you for stepping in. I know this can’t be easy.”
“I’m just doing what needs to be done,” I said, unsure how else to respond.
Dominic nodded. “That’s all any of us can do. And try to stay out of baby shops for now, hmm?” Dominic added with a wink to Griffin before ending the call.
Griffin closed his laptop with a sigh and leaned back in his chair. “Well, that was fun.”
I gave him a look. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Your father is… a nightmare.”
Oh, he's that and more.
I shrugged, keeping my face neutral. “He didn’t build a championship team by being nice, Griffin. He focuses on the objective. Everything else is just noise.”
“Including his family?”
“To Julian, the team is family.”
Griffin studied me for a moment, looking like he wanted to argue, but eventually, he just nodded, conceding the point.
The silence stretched between us, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“You know this is your fault, right?”
He blinked. “What?”
“The rumors. The call. All of it.” I crossed my arms. “I told you not to come shopping. I told you it was a bad idea. But you insisted, and now Julian thinks I can’t control you and—”
“Aren’t we done with this yet?” He dragged a hand across his face.
“We’re done when you stop acting like you didn’t create this mess.”
“You’re right. I pushed. I shouldn’t have.”
My jaw might have dropped. I couldn’t have heard him right, he couldn’t have—
“But I’m not sorry I went. I needed to be there.”
And there was the stubborn, arrogant driver I knew.
Only this man absolutely wouldn’t have gone to bat for me.
“Why did you do that?”
He blinked. “Jesus, woman. Can I get subtitles for your brain? Do what?”
I ground my teeth. Jesus, Griffin, read between the damn lines.
“On the call. With Julian. You argued with him for me.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific. I argued with him about a lot of things.”
“You pushed for me to come to Monza.” I crossed my arms, scrutinizing him. “Why? You barely tolerate me.”
“I thought I already explained that.” His brow furrowed as he studied me, looking genuinely confused. “Hazel screams when you aren’t with her.”
My ego deflated with a soft hiss. “Oh.”
“If you stay in London, she cries. If she cries, I don’t sleep. If I don’t sleep, I crash the car.” He shrugged, like it was simple math. “I need you there to handle her so I can do my job. It’s that simple.”
“Right.” I tightened my grip on my own elbows.
He stood and grabbed his laptop, checking the time.
“I need to pack,” he said. “Early flight tomorrow.”
He left, and I stared after him, feeling foolish for the tiny spark of hope that had flared in my chest.
I wanted to be defended.
That was the pathetic truth of it. I’d fought Julian on the things that mattered. My degree, my internship. Battles I’d chosen because they built toward something. Mainly escaping Julian. But no one had ever just stood in front of him and said no on my behalf.
Even if Griffin only did it to ensure he got eight hours of sleep, the result was the same:
he’d looked Julian Carter in the eye and refused to back down.