Horner's Daughter- A Lewis Hamilton Fanfiction

Chapter 30- Facing Expectations

As Charlotte and Lewis exited the cafe, the piercing flashes of paparazzi cameras greeted them, a reminder of the constant scrutiny they faced. Charlotte's phone buzzed with a text from her father, summoning her to his house. She turned to Lewis and asked if he could drop her off, to which he replied sarcastically, "Am I invited too?"

She chuckled at his remark and shook her head. "Not this time," she teased, her tone light despite the underlying tension.

They drove in silence for about 15 minutes, the weight of their unspoken conversation hanging heavy in the air. Charlotte glanced over at Lewis, a sadness lingering in her eyes as she thought about their recent disagreement. "I wish you could come in," she murmured softly, her voice tinged with longing.

Lewis reached over and gently kissed her hand, a silent reassurance of his presence and support.

Upon arriving at her father's house, Charlotte bid Lewis farewell and stepped out of the car. She exchanged a lingering look with him before walking up to the imposing front door.

Inside, her father greeted her with a smile, but his words quickly turned to the topic of her morning outing with Lewis. "I see you were hanging out with Lewis this morning," he remarked casually.

Charlotte couldn't help but roll her eyes at his remark. "Dad, you're like a stalker. Do you want me to have a chip so you can track me?" she quipped, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

He chuckled at her comment, dismissing her sarcasm with a wave of his hand. "Don't be like that, darling," he chided gently. "I'm not pleased that you were with him, but you'll make it up tonight by taking all the headlines at the party with Max."

Charlotte furrowed her brow in confusion. "What party?" she asked, genuinely puzzled by her father's sudden mention of an event.

Her father laughed again, his tone bordering on mockery. "Lottie, have you been asleep or something?" he replied. "Your mother has sent you a million emails over the past few months about it. The Beckhams are hosting a party in Windsor."

Charlotte's mind raced as she recalled the emails from her mother. She sighed, realizing the inevitable truth. "But I never usually go to them," she protested weakly. "I mean, I like them and all, but why do I have to go?"

Even as she posed the question, Charlotte knew the answer all too well. She had to go to uphold the image of Red Bull, to play her part in her father's grand PR strategy, even if it meant sacrificing her own desires and convictions in the process.