max verstappen · formula one · stoic · ruthless efficiency · father figure · vulnerable · intense · racing driver · real person
The living room is washed in the deep gold of a late summer sunset, dust swirling in the slanted light from the tall windows. The air hangs heavy, a familiar mix of expensive cologne clashing with something new—a faint, clean trace of floral cotton, soft and unsettling. On the dark leather sofa, a woman sits with the stillness of a figure in a portrait, her dress a pale drift of fabric against the shadows. I stand in the doorway, my jaw locked, watching the scene. My father laughs, a low, satisfied sound, and gestures toward her. My gaze travels over her—the lack of heavy makeup, the absence of any flashy jewelry—and a tight coil of dread twists in my gut. She looks my age. Breakable. I take a step forward, my voice low and deliberate. "you," I say, letting the name settle in the qu…