CHAPTER 586: FULFILLMENT

At the end of the 70-lap race, victory went to Trampos Racing, victory went to Luca.

The top of the podium felt completely new again, having not stood upon it in four races.

A catalyst and a wrench were his rewards on Sunday.

Other rewards were a firm handshake from the president and a proud peck on the cheek from Mrs. Doyle.

What a Grand Prix run it was for Luca, and from the look on his face, it seemed he hadn’t even broken a sweat.

It was the first race of the season with a smooth finish.

There were no last-lap dramas, no final-corner overtakes, and no last-sector brawls to shadow the victory.

Luca held P1 uncontested, cruising across the checkered flag and finish line with a six-second lead over P2 finisher Ailbeart Moireach.

Considering he hadn’t been troubled since lap 57, it might have been the most solid and safest finish of his career.

Completely opposite to the chaos of the last race.

When he took his celebratory lap, skipping the cooldown zone, he’d made sure his gratitude to the crowd that managed to be present was known.

Waving his hand out of the cockpit, the victor rolled past every stand.

Perhaps Rennick wasn’t complacent after all, the accusers must have thought.

Antonio Luigi’s finish was P5, and Luca didn’t make his victory about him.

It was just his win.

But Trampos couldn’t hold back their jape.

**You wanna hear a joke, Luca?** came the words over the team radio as he celebrated.

"What’s that?"

**Squadra Cors**

"Haha. Nice one," Luca laughed.

"Tell Victor the joke," he urged a moment later.

Silence followed until they confirmed to him that his teammate was laughing his guts out.

A P9 finish made Victor very ecstatic that race weekend. Any joke, no matter how dry, made him grin from ear to ear all through.

The fulfillment in the team that weekend in Hungary couldn’t be calibrated.

When passion and duty came together, it was a deadly combination that could make any person or faction accomplish great heights.

The team was back in the front-running championship competition.

And Luca? He still sat atop the other drivers with no sign of stepping down, despite Jimmy’s recent and very close efforts.

PROVISIONAL CONSTRUCTORS’ CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (ALL 10)

Position | Team | Points

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

1. | Squadra Corse | 215

2. | Haddock Racing | 205

3. | Trampos Racing | 202

4. | Bueseno Velocità | 200

5. | Outback Performance | 145

6. | Jackson Racing | 75

7. | Nordvind Racing | 30

8. | Iberia Grand Prix | 21

9. | Velox Hispania | 7

10. | Alpine Swiss F1 | 6

"It’s been a very tight and competitive season so far, maybe the most competitive we’ve had this decade."

Speaking was Mr. Finazzi, Velocità’s team principal, during an open interview right after Hungary.

"But at the middle of the campaign, that’s what you expect, yeah? Everyone’s bringing their best, every team’s finding something new every race weekend."

"We’ve got ten more races to go, and I think we’ll see the same level of unpredictability and chaos continue."

"Things will get upended again before the season’s end. Someone’s going to rise, and yeah, a winner will emerge."

"It’s my job to make sure that winner is us. It’s clear to see—we’re not far off it."

When asked about his thoughts on the energy Trampos Racing were carrying into these recent races, Finazzi made a pause media-worthy.

The team was also good in wet races thanks to Luca’s balance and mastery in uncertain weather.

With the next race being the Brazilian Grand Prix, it might just favor them all the same way last year’s had.

These questions rang Finazzi’s mental bell.

Trampos Racing was undoubtedly a threat, but a part of him had psychologically learned to undermine them in subtle ways.

This habit helped him conserve his mental bandwidth for his own planning and strategizing.

All team principals had their own way of running things.

Unlike Campanella, who obsessed over every single detail of his rivals, trying to counter and outsmart them all, Finazzi preferred to keep his focus inward, only on himself and on his team.

"Trampos Racing’s success has always been an enduring mystery," came his reply.

"And I’m genuinely happy for my good friend, Grant. He’s put together something earthshaking, and that’s exactly why they’re sitting in second place right now."

"But when I think of them... I remember the saying: the hotter the flame, the shorter the burn."

~~~~~

RING! RING!

Picking up his phone at the second ring, Luca pressed it to his damp ear, water still trickling down his neck.

He had just stepped out of the shower, and all he could think about was Isabella all through.

"Luca, get your ass here! It’s been a while since I pulled your cheek!" the receiver blared.

On the phone was Mrs. Hawthorne.

She sounded cranky and deranged, and anytime she sounded like that, it meant she was in a good mood.

Whenever she was truly upset or angry, she became serious, sharp, and to the point.

Luca had to admit, she was practically his godmother for him to know her moods this well.

She had called to remind him about her mass gathering in Norfolk, in which he was invited.

Luca hadn’t forgotten about it, and in truth, he was glad it was coming up now.

The break between the Hungarian and Brazilian Grands Prix was long enough to breathe, travel, and unwind before the next grind began.

He assured her he’d be there after listening to her dramatically narrate how Henry had managed to break his arm from tripping at the creek bank beside their mansion.

After the call, Luca dried himself off thoroughly, tossed the towel aside, and reached for his phone again.

He dialed a number he hadn’t dialed before.

It was Laura’s.

He’d thought deeply about what Mr. Grant had suggested about Martin being brought to the headquarters.

He loved the idea the more he considered it.

It would also be a perfect celebration following the Hungarian Grand Prix victory.

He’d won wearing a helmet that paid tribute to Ansel, and now, the idea of bringing Ansel’s own son into the heart of Trampos felt poetic.

The team would be ecstatic to see him!

It was perfect. Luca knew it.

Now, all that was left was the mother’s approval.

Would Laura agree? Was she still as reserved and protective of herself and the baby as she had always been?

Laura was in the kitchen with her younger sister when her phone began to ring.

Evelyn was busy transferring all the silverware from the rack on the left counter to the right, making space for the freshly done pans of pancakes.

Laura, watching her move about, was directing her carefully as Evelyn lifted the pans with her mitts.

Then she saw the caller ID.

Her heart skipped, and the word "Wait!" slipped from her mouth by reflex, startling Evelyn.

A pan clattered to the floor, and two glass cups fell and shattered beside it.

"Sorry," Laura whispered, quickly wiping her hands on her apron as she walked softly out to the living room, her pulse quickening.

She pressed the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

Luca identified himself clearly and told Laura everything he needed to say.

Fortunately, Laura agreed to every single thing, as if she didn’t hold any power at all in the matter.

Luca thanked her, and the call ended quickly, no longer than necessary.

But Laura remained standing, her mind buzzing, while Evelyn wondered how long the conversation had lasted.

She had no idea her sister was quietly hallucinating, decoding every nuance of Luca’s words.

Apart from the request itself, did you know what he had suggested?

Luca proposed that she and the baby come and stay at his house for a day before heading to the headquarters, and a day again before returning.

Even though Luca suggested it for easier access because Grunewald was thirty minutes away, that still meant two days in Luca’s house for Laura... and for Martin, of course.

Here she was, trying to figure out how to get Luca’s attention, yet it had just been handed to her on a silver plate.

The young woman was certain this was fate.

Luca was a Virgo; she was a Taurus—this could not be coincidence!

She returned to the kitchen to help clean up the mess, feeling entirely revitalized.