I can't .

~1~

POV Carlos:

"Charles, who's that girl?" I asked, hoping he might recognize her.
"Which girl?"
"The one with Lewis."

I watched as Charles scanned the crowd, his eyes eventually landing on the girl I meant. He studied her for a moment.
"No idea, mate. Never seen her before. Why?"

I hadn't told Charles that Isa and I broke up a few months ago—or rather, that she broke up with me.
"No big deal," I replied, a little too quickly. "Just curious."

We were at a club in the center of Monaco, winding down after race weekend. But I wasn't in the mood for partying. I was distracted. I'd seen her before—at least I thought I had. Maybe in the Mercedes garage? There was something about her that reminded me of Toto Wolff, oddly enough. Maybe I was imagining it. Still, I couldn't take my eyes off her.

All night, I watched her. Who she talked to, how she moved, how she laughed. She had this strange familiarity that I couldn't shake, like a name on the tip of your tongue. I couldn't enjoy anything with her hovering in the back of my mind.

Back at the hotel, I opened Instagram and started combing through Lewis's followers. He had to know her—I had to know her.
I don't even remember falling asleep. Just the glow of my screen and the rush in my chest when I finally found her.

POV y/n: 

"Lewis, who's that guy who keeps staring at me?" I asked, leaning in a little closer so no one else could hear.

I watched his eyes sweep across the room until they landed on the man in question.
"That's Carlos. He drives for Ferrari," he said, shrugging it off like it was nothing.

I nodded slowly, but I couldn't help glancing back at Carlos. The way he looked at me—it wasn't just a passing glance. It was too direct, too intense. It made my skin crawl.

"I wouldn't worry too much, Y/N," Lewis said when he caught me looking again.

"I'm not worried," I replied quickly, a little too defensively. "It just... really bothers me. The way he looks at me like he knows something. I don't want any problems with my father. No one here knows I'm Toto's daughter—and I'd really like to keep it that way."

Lewis must've picked up on my discomfort, because he wrapped his arm around my waist, warm and reassuring.
"If you want, we can go."

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah... I think that'd be better."

The night air outside was colder than I expected. Monaco might be beautiful, but it was still spring. Lewis didn't even hesitate—he slipped his coat off and draped it over my shoulders as we walked toward the waiting cabs.

"If you want to stay, you should," I said, turning to him. "Really. I'll be fine."

"You sure?" he asked, clearly not convinced. "I don't want anything happening to you on the way."

I gave him a soft smile. "Don't worry about me. I'll be okay. Go have fun."

Right then, a cab pulled up. I climbed in, gave the driver the name of my hotel, and looked back at Lewis one last time before the door shut.

When I got back to my room, I changed into something comfy and crawled into bed, but my mind was still spinning. Carlos. His face. His eyes. The way he looked at me like he was trying to figure something out. It was unsettling.

I sighed, grabbed my phone, and opened a browser.
Carlos Sainz.
I had to know more.

The next morning, as I stepped out of my hotel room, I nearly walked straight into him.