Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
GRIFFIN
“Griffin Michaels,” Axel Fischer said as Dominic and I entered the Rekford motorhome. “I was starting to think this day would never come.” He stood at the base of the stairs, waving off an assistant with a clipboard. “I’ve got this, Marta. Go enjoy your coffee break.”
The woman hesitated, glancing at her watch. “But the engineering debrief—”
“Can wait twenty minutes.” Axel gestured toward us. “These gentlemen are far more important than another strategy argument with Paolo.”
Marta nodded, slipping past us as Axel extended his hand.
“Dominic. Good to see you.” Then Axel turned to me and his grin widened. “I’m not sure any driver has made me wait as long as you did.”
“Had to make sure you really wanted me.”
“Oh, I wanted you. Just didn’t think Julian would ever let his ace go.”
I snorted. “He didn’t exactly have a choice.”
“Best kind of exit, then.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you two settled before someone spots us conspiring.”
Axel walked us through the hospitality area, and the difference hit me immediately.
Engineers occupied most of the seating, laptops open, voices overlapping as they argued about something technical.
Someone had left their jacket draped over a chair and no one was shouting at him to tidy it up before some Z-lister came through.
The coffee bar had actual grounds scattered across the counter.
The whole space felt lived in, not like the showroom Aedris maintained for Julian’s ego.
We passed through a narrow corridor lined with team photos. Drivers mid-celebration, mechanics hoisting trophies, candid shots of the garage crew laughing over lunch. Not a single one looked staged.
We followed Axel into his small office and I almost smirked. If I needed a sign that I’d made the right choice, this was it.
The space was compact. It had a desk, three chairs, a shelf stacked with technical manuals and a framed photo of his wife and kids.
I could breathe in here.
Axel leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “So. You’re actually serious about this.”
“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
He studied me, hopefully evaluating whether I meant it. The silence stretched long enough to make my jaw tighten.
Finally, he nodded before opening his desk drawer.
“You’ve seen this already, but let’s make it official.” He produced a folder and slid it across to Dominic.
“Two years, standard performance clauses tied to constructor points. All the usual.”
Dominic scanned it again, but all I cared about was one thing.
“We’re clear on the family accommodations clause?”
Axel nodded. “Your daughter comes first. Sensible stuff really.”
“Julian doesn’t think so.”
“Julian’s a fool who thinks drivers are robots.”
Axel chuckled and I smiled. He wasn’t wrong.
“Let me be clear, Griffin,” he said, his tone sobering. “A driver with something to go home to is a driver who thinks. Who doesn’t take stupid risks for a single point. You having Hazel in your life makes you a better asset, not a liability.”
Just like that. The knot that had lived in my gut for months started to unwind.
“Now, for the other issue.” Axel grimaced. “Thiago.”
“What about him?”
“He’s fast. He’s hungry. And he’s a creature of habit. Doesn’t like change.” Axel scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “He’s been driving in Nico’s shadow for three years. He sees Nico leaving as his chance to finally be number one.”
“So he’ll see me as the one standing in his way.”
“He will when he finds out.” Axel nodded. “We try to run a level ship here, leave the egos at the door. But egos are egos. I need you to know what you’re walking into. He won’t make it easy.”
“I can handle it.”
Axel’s mouth quirked. He tapped the contract. “Then let’s get this done.”
Dominic slid the folder closer to me. I picked up the pen Axel offered and took a deep breath.
Before Hazel and Violet, I didn’t believe I had a racing career outside of Aedris. But the two year contract staring at me said otherwise, and it was kind of surreal.
More money. A clean break from Julian. A team that actually gave a shit about more than championship trophies and brand partnerships.
I’d never felt so light signing away two years of my life.
Axel countersigned, then stood and extended his hand. “Welcome to Rekford, Griffin.”
I shook it. “Can I announce it after qualifying?”
The thought of seeing Julian’s head explode in front of all the cameras was just too good to pass up.
Axel’s grin widened. “You want to do it this weekend?”
“Why wait? I’ve already signed. And Julian’s going to lose his shit regardless. Might as well give the media something to write about.”
“Christ.” Axel laughed. “I like the way you think.”
Dominic packed up the signed contracts. Axel walked us back through the motorhome, still chuckling about Julian’s inevitable meltdown.
Iwalked into the media pen after qualifying feeling pretty smug. I’d put the Aedris car on P2 for tomorrow’s race. It wasn’t pole but after the disaster of FP1, I’d gladly take the win.
It also had the added bonus of shutting Julian up, at least temporarily.
I made it three steps before Callaghan appeared, blocking my path.
“Getting Izzy to call me off isn’t going to work,” he said, his voice low and meant just for me. “The custody case is moving forward. You can’t stop it.”
It wasn’t.
My lawyers weren’t worried in the slightest. With Izzy relinquishing her parental rights and my documented efforts to be the best father I could be, no judge was handing Hazel over to a man who spent more time punching journalists and mouthing off to the press than he did being stable.
Callaghan’s track record spoke for itself, and none of it screamed “fit parental figure.”
I laughed. “If you say so.”
His jaw clenched. “This isn’t a joke.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” I stepped around him. “Good luck with that.”
“Don’t walk away from me.”
I kept walking, straight for the press pen and the second bomb drop of my career.
“You think you’ve won?” His voice rose, fury bleeding through. “You think because you’ve got her now, she’s yours forever?”
I turned back, sighing. He looked about two seconds from losing it completely, his face red, hands clenched at his sides.
“You’re doing this in front of thirty cameras,” I said, my tone light. “Does your team know you’re off the leash?”
His face went from red to purple. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“You heard me.”
“I don’t have a fucking leash.” His voice rose loud enough that several reporters turned their heads. “You think because you’ve got Julian wrapped around your finger that you can talk to me like—”
Yes, clearly I was the problem here.
“You’re losing it in front of everyone, Jesse. Again.”
“Fuck you, Michaels.” He stepped closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “You act like you’re so fucking perfect, but we all know what you are. A shit father who knocked up some random and bailed.”
The words bounced off me like rain on glass.
A few months ago, they would have gutted me.
Now? I knew better. I’d spent weeks watching Hazel smile when I walked into the room, learning what made her laugh, figuring out how to soothe her when she cried.
Violet had taught me that being a good father wasn’t about being perfect. It was about showing up.
Behind the barrier, reporters shifted closer, phones out, cameras angled our way.
“Careful,” I said, still calm. “You’re talking about your sister and this is all going on record.”
“I don’t give a shit.” His voice carried across the pen now, drawing more attention. “You’re a joke. The whole paddock knows it. The only reason you’ve got a seat is because Julian needs someone to carry his brand. Without him, you’re nothing.”
I smiled. Slow and easy. “Actually, mate, I’ve got some news about that.”
I walked away from Callaghan and the nearest reporter leaned over the barrier immediately, microphone extended. “What’s the news, Griffin?”
My gaze found Julian’s at the back of the pen. His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable, waiting for me to deflect. To lie. To be his perfect, obedient driver.
My smile widened.
“I’ve had a great run with Aedris,” I said, keeping my eyes locked on Julian. “Two Driver’s Championships, some of the best races of my career. I owe them a lot.”
Satisfaction flickered in his eyes.
“Which is why,” I said, my grin widening, “I’m really looking forward to racing against them next year. When I’m driving for Rekford.”
The pen erupted.
Reporters shouted questions, the noise levels spiking as they fought to be heard. Behind the barrier, journalists scrambled for position, microphones thrust forward. I ignored them all. My focus was entirely on Julian.
His face drained of color. The mask shattered. For the first time since I’d met him, Julian Carter had absolutely nothing to say.
A wave of phone notifications buzzed through the crowd as Rekford’s press officer sent out the official release.
“When was this deal finalized?”
“Will you finish the season?”
I held up a hand, and the chaos quieted just enough for me to be heard. “I’ll be giving everything I have for Aedris until the final lap in Abu Dhabi.” My gaze found Julian one last time. “I owe the team that much.”
Then I walked away, leaving him to stand in the wreckage of his own making. It was the best win I’d had all season.