The Bolter | Charles Leclerc

Chapter 1

"Model, influencer, serial dater, Danique Verstappen, calls it off with model Rupert Fischer," my brother reads from the coffee table to spoil another Sunday morning. "The pair were seen arguing on a hotel balcony in Paris before clothes flew onto the street below."

I tried to bite my lip to stop from laughing, because I had a feeling Max wasn't as amused as I was.

He glared at me. "Dani this isn't funny."

"Come on Max, you know how the much the media exaggerates," I sighed.

"So clothes didn't fall from the balcony?"

"Well," I said, met with my brother's stern expression. "I smelt Miss Dior on his jumper, and you know I only wear Chanel No.5. What was I meant to do?"

He stood up and walked to the kitchen side, ignoring what I had said. "The article then goes on to list all your relationships in the past 4 months."

"Slut shaming in the media? Groundbreaking," I rolled my eyes, sick of the unwanted attention I always seemed to find my self getting.

Max didn't seem bothered. "You're not doing yourself any favours. What about that job you got with Miu Miu? Do you really think they'll want to hire you with your reputation?"

"Taylor Swift had a reputation," I replied. "She made an album, I can do a photoshoot."

"Danique, take this seriously, you can't be making scenes in the centre of Paris and not expect people to talk."

I scowled into my espresso. Ever since Max shot into the spotlight, the glare of the public eye seemed to follow me everywhere I would go. The pressure had only increased in the past few months after I landed my first few modelling jobs and I started to make a name for myself, instead of Max Verstappen's baby sister.
I had a problem with boys. I seemed to attract the selfish, boring, rude cheaters and accidentally made a habit of breaking up with them very publicly. I blamed it on my "passion" as my father called it, a trait I wish I hadn't inherited from him.

"Look," I said looking at my big brother, who I knew was only looking out for me, as he'd always done. "I can't help the people I date are dickheads."

He nodded. "What about staying away from boys for a while?"

I scrunched my nose in disgust. "I can make my own decisions."

"I'm very away of that," he chuckled. "What about just for 6 months, you don't date. Like a cleanse."

"6 months?" I gasped. "You're kidding?"

"Ok, reason with me here, I'm trying to help."

I sat there for a minute, turning the idea over in my head until a better one popped into my head. "Care to make it interesting?"

"Go on."

"I stay aware from boys for 3 months, and I get your private plane for another 3," I grinned as he rolled his eyes, as if he expected a more mature answer.

"You stay away from boys for 4 months," he said as I tried to protest but he shut me down, "and you get my plane for 3 months. However if you don't, I take your key for my Monaco apartment."

I blinked at the audacity of my big brother. I loved that apartment and he knew it, but I also was planning multiple holidays this summer that I had already banked on using the plane for. "Fine, you have yourself a deal broer."

"Be prepared to lose, you know how I like to win."