LEGACY/// FORMULA ONE (3)

EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE

"Ma Princesse, I love you so much and I can't wait to grow old with you."

Charles Leclerc smiled with such love towards the woman standing in front of him, her hands clutched tightly within his own.

The seats at the venue were full to the brim, with only four seats empty, of which were right at the front, reserved for their missing angels.

Luiz, Hervé, Anthoine and Jules.

Everybody within the building knew that their angels were watching over them, smiling proudly as the two of them expressed their love for one another.

"Do you, Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc, take thee, Larissa Kimi Cohen, to be your wife?"

Tears welled up within the eyes of the Monégasque as he stared at his love, knowing that he was going to be able to love his soul mate until they died together, in their nineties, surrounded by the many children and grandchildren that they wanted to have together.

"I do."

"And do you, Larissa Kimi Cohen take thee, Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc, to be your husband?"

Larissa glanced briefly at the empty seats of the building that would have held her father and her Anthoine, imagining that they were sat there watching her proudly, with Anthoine having walked her down the aisle.

Instead, all four of her uncles had done so.

"I do."

Larissa playfully shot the Leclerc boy a wink which made the boy giggle in happiness, the euphoria flooding his body at how she had not turned him down, accepting him for who he was and loving him all the same.

"I now pronounce you, husband and wife."

Their lips gently pressed together as the crowd behind them cheered, love evident within the room. She was a married woman.

She was finally Charles' wife, she was finally married.

She was officially, Larissa Kimi Leclerc-Cohen.

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"That's my girl!"

Lucy Appleton shouted at the top of her lungs as she watched Larissa Leclerc-Cohen qualify in first place at the track in Monza, with the seven time world Champion easily out qualifying all of the other drivers on the track, even her team mate, Mick Schumacher.

Well, Lucy knew that it wasn't exactly seven championships, because she was already confirmed to have won her eighth championship, due to the FIA having added many more races and sprint races to the calendar, with Larissa winning all of them.

She had the eighth world title that nobody else did, and she was due to have her celebration party to coincide with her birthday, since she had only just decided to start finally celebrating her birthday at Monza once again.

She was healing, slowly.

It was the year of two thousand and twenty seven, a whole twenty years since she had lost her father, she had reached the age of twenty eight, the same age as he was when she had no choice but to see him burn alive in front of her and whilst it would forever hurt, she had gotten used to it.

She had gotten used to the pain.

But, for the twentieth anniversary, it was good news because she was starting from pole position.

She knew that she could do this.

She was a Cohen, after all.

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