Roads of Redemption | F1 | Toto Wolff

11 | Lie to me.

"You." Christian's voice cut through my thoughts as he stepped out of the data analysis room. The air felt heavy, weighed down by the aftermath of Lewis's win in Qatar, Max's penalty... The championship, once seemingly decided weeks ago, was now a fierce battle.

"Yes?" I turned, meeting his gaze.

He closed the distance between us, eyes intense, and pointed to the screen projecting the tire data. "When you studied your brother's accident, did you see anything like this?" His finger traced a series of graphs showing erratic fluctuations in tire pressure and temperature.

My eyes followed the jagged lines, and a chill ran down my spine. I knew where he was headed. "You mean the temperature fluctuations?"

"Exactly," he replied, his expression tight. "We're seeing a strange wear pattern on the front tires. Something that doesn't align with the car's usual behavior or the track conditions. And these pressure variations?"

I inhaled deeply, trying to keep my voice steady. "Yes, there are similarities. In Nano's case, the wear resulted from a mix of overloaded rubber, temperature spikes causing internal cracks... and the setup didn't help."

Christian's eyes never left mine, assessing the gravity in my tone. "But I eventually gave up trying to make sense of it. Other factors influenced the tire's behavior. The thermal degradation started when the car lost grip mid-corner, spiking the tread temperature. The pressure wavered with lateral forces and abrupt changes in direction, pushing the tires out of their optimal range, creating microcracks. When he tried to regain control in the next turn, the temperature climbed higher, and the tire began to delaminate."

"It was a domino effect," I added, the memory weighing heavily. "Everything that could go wrong, did... all at once."

Christian studied my face, his silence lingering a beat too long. "Why the sudden interest in this?" I asked, attempting to shift the focus.

"We're compiling data for two formal complaints," he said quietly, his voice controlled. "I thought you might recall something useful. I have a meeting in half an hour, and I need you there."

"Christian, I'm no expert," I protested. "And I have other priorities—"

His stare was unwavering. "Valentina, I'm not asking. Rearrange your schedule and come with me."

Before I could argue, he turned away, leaving me no room to refuse. I exhaled sharply, feeling tension coil around my shoulders.

In the car, silence stretched between us while I looked out the window, trying to focus on my breathing, pushing away intrusive thoughts.

As soon as we arrived, I found myself distracted by the surroundings. Whenever I need to steer my mind away from my own thoughts, I focus on the most mundane details I can find. This time, it was the room's decor.

Christian had already stepped into a meeting room, his voice slicing through the air. "Apologies for the delay," he announced with a half-smile, gesturing toward me. "I was busy convincing her to join us." The chuckle that followed felt strained, not quite fitting the moment.

I noticed the surprise on their faces, but Toto's reaction stood out. His eyes met mine and narrowed slightly, a flicker of doubt crossing his expression, as if he sensed something wasn't right.

Christian's grin sharpened. "Toto, my boy," he drawled, "This one's new," he said, pulling out a chair for me. He glanced at the woman I'd noticed with Toto, James, and Andrew a few weeks earlier. "Or do I already know you from somewhere?" His tone was light, but the insinuation was clear.

"Don't bother remembering their names," he added, turning back to me, his smile twisting as if some way he was trying to provoking me "He swaps them out faster than you notice—gets bored quickly." He shifted his focus to the rest of the room. "You know the rest, Valen... or almost," he continued, glancing at a man beside Toto who seemed just as unsettled as I felt. "And who are you?" he asked with a mock politeness that barely concealed the underlying edge. "Where is James?"