the connection ~ Kimi Antonelli

Chapter 9

As we approached my father's grand estate, I couldn't help but feel a sense of resentment. The imposing entrance and opulent surroundings were a stark reminder of his accumulated wealth.

Before we reached the grand double doors, Ollie gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, and his warm smile provided a comforting anchor. "Remember, bee, we can leave whenever you want. I'm here for you, always."

"Oliver Bearman, you can be quite sensitive, I love that about you." I replied, and he placed a gentle kiss upon my forehead.

"Always bee."

His words felt like a safety net, boosting my confidence as we stepped into the mansion.

My father welcomed us in the lavish dining room, where the grandeur of the space seemed to dwarf the substantial dining table at its centre. His polite smile held a distant formality, a far cry from the warmth we once shared. He barely looked at me, as if everything was normal, as if I hadn't just been without him for the past year.

"Y/n, Ollie, welcome," he greeted, though his words felt rehearsed. "I'm afraid the rest of the family is out shopping today."

The mention of my stepmother and stepsisters served as a pointed reminder of the life my father now led, a life that had diverged from the one we had once known. His wealth had multiplied, and his new family now occupied a significant portion of his attention. Of course, this woman that he married was an Italian model, only the best for the jackass I call dad.

As we took our seats at the massive dining table, servants began serving a gourmet lunch. I felt bad as they served me, wanting to help them or tell them to go home, and i could see Ollie wasn't entirely co fortavle with it either. But before we did anything, my father began to speak about his latest tennis player investment. Conversation flowed with a sense of formality, my father inquiring about our lives, but it was evident that his interest was only superficial.

Ollie, always perceptive, skillfully interjected warmth and familiarity into the conversation, recounting stories from our shared experiences, gently urging my father to remember the close bond we had once shared. Ollie's ability to make anyone feel at ease, even in challenging situations, shone through.

As the lunch progressed, my father's icy demeanor began to thaw slightly. At times, I glimpsed traces of the man he used to be, the one who had spent time with me at the beach, holding me close as a loving father rather than a wealthy businessman.

During one of the lulls in conversation, my father made a pointed remark. "Y/n, it's quite surprising that your mother allowed you to travel to Italy at your age. She never was that responsible, was she."

The comment stung, and I couldn't let it slide. "My mother supports my decisions, just as she always has. She believes in me and my choices." He made dead eye contact with me, which I broke, looking away at Ollie to see if he felt too uncomfortable.

Sitting beside me, Ollie sensed the tension and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, his warm smile as he chimed in, "Well, we can all agree that Y/n's mother has done an excellent job. It's evident in the amazing person Y/n has become."

My father shifted his focus, speaking with a hint of pride. "Yes, my new daughters are doing exceptionally well. They aspire to take over the family business one day, a legacy they can be proud of." I internally scoffed at his comment and ease at inserting himself into Ollie's complaint about me.

He couldn't resist adding a small dig, "It's quite different from Y/n's dream of becoming an F1 reporter, don't you think?" He directed himself at Ollie, his tone lining with amusement to cover his dig.

Ollie, always ready to champion me, stood up for my aspirations. "Becoming an F1 reporter is hard, and Y/n is willing to put in the hard work and dedication to achieve her dream. It's a challenging job that requires immense effort, and she's more than capable of it." At this, I smiled up at my best friend in gratitude.

My father shifted in his seat after Ollie stood up for me. There was a moment of silence before he finally spoke, his tone less aloof. "I suppose your job will bring you two closer. Ollie, you're looking good to move up from F2 to F1 in the next few years."

I nodded, appreciating the recognition of Ollie's talent and potential. "Yes, he's incredibly dedicated and talented. I'm proud of him." I felt Ollie squeeze my hand at this, and I smile.

My father offered a small, appreciative smile before suggesting, "After lunch, I can take you both on a tour of the garden. It's quite lovely this time of year."

Ollie and I exchanged a hesitant but polite approval. The idea of a garden tour felt less intimidating than an extended lunch in my father's mansion. It offered a way for us to spend time together while exploring the beautiful surroundings, a neutral ground that felt far less imposing.

As we strolled through the meticulously manicured garden, Ollie and I couldn't help but exchange knowing glances when we passed by a series of bush sculptures depicting a loving family. These sculptures unmistakably represented my father's new family, one in which we now played only peripheral roles.

We did our best to hide our discomfort with polite smiles, but the sculptures served as a reminder of the life I had chosen to distance myself from. The contrast between my father's extravagant lifestyle and the warmth of my friendship with Ollie was striking.

Throughout the tour, Ollie's unwavering support reminded me that I was not alone in facing my father's wealth and indifference. As we made our way to leave, not wanting to risk encountering my new family, my father dropped a bombshell.

"By the way," he said, "I heard from one of my friends that you two have been hanging out with Lorenzo Fluxa and Kimi Antonelli. Interesting company you're keeping."

At the mention of Kimi's name, my defensive instincts flared up, though I also felt a strange flutter in my stomach at his mention. I tried to push those feelings away, attempting to convince myself that I didn't have romantic feelings for him.

My father continued, "Kimi seems like a talented driver. Maybe I could find a way to invest in his future. It's always good to have connections in the racing world."

My voice turned firm as I countered, "Stay away from Kimi. I don't want your filthy money anywhere near him."

My father laughed, his tone patronizing. "Well, that's all I needed to hear. My assumptions about you and Kimi have been confirmed."

I reiterated my stance, my voice unwavering. "I mean it, Father. Stay away from Kimi. And stop stalking me. It's pathetic to keep tabs on your daughter's instagram." I told him firmly, knowing the only way he could have found out about Lorenzo and Kimi was through Paul and Lorenzo's instagram and my comments on them.

I turned to Ollie, my expression determined. "We're leaving."

With that final declaration, we exited the grand estate, leaving behind the world of wealth and privilege, choosing instead the warm embrace of a friendship that knew no boundaries, literally. As we step into the taxi, Ollie pulls me into his arms, placing a kiss on my head and whispering comforting words to me as I let a few tears fall down my face.