Chapter Thirty-Three

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FRANCESCA

I hurried down the strip of the paddock, my heart racing with each step as I scanned for Matt. The noise of the crowd and chaos blurred around me, but all I could focus on was finding him and making sure he was alright.

"Francesca," a reporter called out.

I kept walking as she ran alongside me. "What did you think of the final few laps of the race?" She held her microphone in my face, and I wanted to snatch it from her and throw it across the road.

"No comment," I said, picking up my pace.

"People are saying that De Rossi made the right call for the team, but do you agree?"

I kept my eyes forward, my pace quickening as the reporter's questions continued to fire at me. "No comment," I repeated, trying to block out the intrusion. I didn't give a shit about how rude I was being. I knew there'd be some pretty bad headlines as a result of my shitty attitude, but I'd deal with the press later... or never.

In front of me, I noticed Matt heading up the ramp to the motorhome.

I broke into a run. "Matthias," I called out, my voice laced with urgency.

He glanced back at me, his face a mask of anger and pain. My suspicions were confirmed. It wasn't just frustration in his eyes, it was a deep sense of betrayal.

He swiped his key tag against the door and disappeared inside. I followed closely behind, running up the stairs and into the hospitality suite just seconds later.

"Matt, can I please explain?" I pleaded, my voice trembling with emotion.

He turned to face me, his frown evident and his cheeks flushed. "What the fuck was that?" he spat. His voice was thick with disbelief.

I sighed, feeling hopeless. "I know, and I am so sorry. I didn't want to do that, trust me."

He shook his head in frustration. "But you did it anyway." He ran his hand through his hair, his eyes full of pain. "Francesca, I lost the world championship. And you used the hold you have on me to make sure that happened."

I felt anger bubbling inside of me. It wasn't my decision to make, and the frustration of being put in that compromised position weighed heavily on me. I needed him to see it from my perspective.

No matter how much I loved the man, I had to do it for the team.

"You weren't going to win it, Matt," I sighed. "At the end of the day, your car did not have the pace." I stepped closer, but he instinctively backed away. It broke a piece of my heart to see the betrayal in his eyes.

"So you agree with the decision?" he asked.

I honestly hadn't thought about it since I was so damn worried about his well-being... but the team made a strategic move, and it was the right call.

"Yes," I said firmly, my heart aching with every word. "I believe it was the right decision."

His face fell, the hurt deepening in his eyes. I could tell he was still processing everything, his emotions raw and tangled. I knew my response wasn't the answer he wanted to hear, but I couldn't lie to him.

I straightened my back, trying to keep my voice steady. "You still came second overall—"

"Which means I was the first to lose!" he said, cutting me off. "Goddammit, Francesca why couldn't you understand how important this was to me?"

I sighed. "Why can't you understand that I had no choice? You saw the articles. You read the negative comments about my motive for taking this job. If I hadn't complied with the team's decision, I'd have been made to look like a fool."

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