𝙾𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢┃ Charles Leclerc┃

Chapter Forty Three - The Las Vegas Strip

As I sat on the plush leather seat of the private jet, the hum of the engines providing a steady backdrop, I could feel the exhaustion weighing heavily on me. Las Vegas loomed ahead, a new race known for its drama and intensity, yet all I could focus on was the weariness that seeped into my bones.

The past weeks had been a blur of non-stop activity. The media frenzy surrounding the Ferrari launch alone would have been enough to drain anyone. Add to that my ongoing responsibilities at McLaren, the incessant dealings with Christian Horner, and the precious moments stolen to visit home and be with Charles—it had all taken its toll. My entire body burned.

It was official. I was jet-lagged as fuck.

Beside me, Lando sat, his trademark grin softened by concern. "Ana, you look like you could use a month on a beach somewhere. Maybe a spa day too."

I managed a weak chuckle, rubbing my eyes. "You have no idea, Lando. I think my body's already mentally checked out for the season."

He nodded sympathetically. "I hear you. This part of the year always feels like we're running on fumes."

I glanced out the window, watching the clouds pass by in lazy drifts. "But hey, we're almost there. Just three more races to go."

Lando leaned forward, his tone turning serious. "You've been killing it out there, Ana. Ferrari made a good call."

A flicker of pride warmed my chest at his words. "Thanks, Lando. Coming from you, that means a lot."

He grinned, leaning back in his seat. "Well, someone's got to keep you humble."

I chuckled softly, grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. "I'm going to miss you next year, Lando."

His jokey demeanour softened for a brief moment, one that I had rarely seen before. "I'm going to miss you too." The corners of his lips dimpled. "We'll still see each other all the time, though. Nothing will change."

I nudged him playfully with my foot. "Of course it won't. I'll be waving at you from the top step of the podium!"

His eyes rolled. "I'll beat you to it."

"Mhm." I hummed. "I'm sure."

As the jet continued its smooth journey toward the racetrack, I closed my eyes for a moment, letting Lando's words and the anticipation of the winter break wash over me. Man, I was sleepy.

Landing in Las Vegas felt like stepping into a different universe altogether. The airport was bustling with energy, and the neon lights of the city greeted me as soon as I stepped outside. The Strip loomed in the distance, a vibrant artery pulsating with life.

As I navigated through the chaotic pick-up area, I couldn't help but marvel at the spectacle around me. Towering hotel-casinos lined the boulevard, each one a glittering monument to excess and indulgence. The Bellagio, with its mesmerizing fountains dancing to music; the iconic pyramid of the Luxor, casting an eerie glow against the night sky; and the replica of the Eiffel Tower at Paris Las Vegas, a whimsical nod to European charm amidst the desert landscape.

Streets were teeming with people from all walks of life—tourists in awe, high-rollers in tailored suits, and partygoers dressed to the nines. Flashing billboards touted the latest shows, celebrity residencies, and extravagant dining experiences. The air was thick with anticipation and a touch of unreality, as if the entire city existed in a perpetual state of exhilaration.

I found myself in awe of the sheer opulence and spectacle that Las Vegas offered. It was a place where dreams were made and fortunes were lost, where every corner seemed to promise a new adventure or a hidden gem. Neon lights bathed the streets in an otherworldly glow, casting long shadows that danced along the pavement.