ENCHANTMENT, Charles Leclerc

Chapter 2

it's been quite literally 10 months since I posted the first chapter, somewhere along the line getting busy and just absolutely forgot this existed but I did leave a note on my main page explaining what had gone wrong, let's see if I can keep up my spirit and finish this book, especially since now I have a little more time and a lot more plotline to myself. to start with

HE WON IN MONACO, HE WINS IN MONZA, Oh 2024 season you are so dear to me.

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 Days turned into weeks, and Charles' heart ached with each passing day. The messages from the Andorran princess never came. He tried to convince himself it was all a misunderstanding, a joke taken too seriously. But deep down, he knew the truth.

His mother and Max had warned him about his tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve. They were right, of course. Yet, hope had lingered, a stubborn ember refusing to be extinguished.

Max's newfound mushiness with Ahri was a constant reminder of his loneliness. The couple's sickeningly sweet displays made Charles' stomach churn. He had found a difference in the company of Genevieve, even for a few minutes he had spent with her, her vibrant personality a welcome distraction. He'd even entertained the thought of a potential romance, forgetting her royal status and his lack of nobility.

But as Imola approached, the harsh reality of his situation settled upon him. Genevieve, a princess from a different world, would never lower herself to be with a mere athlete. He was a pawn in her game, a fleeting distraction in her gilded life. The realization stung, a bitter pill to swallow.

Charles strolled through the Imola paddock, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Genevieve was a distant memory, replaced by the adrenaline-fueled anticipation of the race. He was leading the championship, a dream come true. But the road ahead was long and treacherous, his best friend and his lifelong rival, Max Verstappen, was hot on his heels.

As he entered the motorhome, his thoughts shifted to the task at hand. It was race day, and he had a job to do. He needed to dominate, to increase his lead over Max. The championship was within reach, a tantalizing prize that had fuelled his dreams for years.

Stepping into his driver's room, he donned the familiar team kit. As he emerged, he found himself face-to-face with Mattia Binotto, the team principal and a constant pain in the ass. "Yes, Mattia?" Charles asked, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance.

"We have some VIP guests in the hospitality," Mattia replied, his eyes gleaming with a calculated intensity. "I'd like you to meet them."

With a sigh, Charles followed Mattia, his heart sinking. He knew what this meant—another PR opportunity. He was a prized asset, a marketable commodity to be paraded before the adoring masses. But as he put on his best smile, he couldn't help but feel a pang of resentment. He was more than just a pretty face. He was a driver, a competitor, and he had a race to win.

As Mattia stepped aside, Charles found himself face-to-face with the woman who had haunted his dreams for weeks. Genevieve stood there, her regal aura undeniable, her smile genuine yet tinged with a hint of amusement. Her posture, refined and poised, was a product of a lifetime of royal training.

"Charles, meet Her Royal Highness, Princess Genevieve of Andorra," Mattia introduced, his voice filled with a sense of importance. "Princess, this is our championship-leading driver, Charles Leclerc."

Charles couldn't help but roll his eyes internally. Mattia's pretentiousness was almost comical. "Mr. Binotto, there's no need to be so formal," Genevieve replied, her voice warm and inviting. "Charles and I go way back."

"Do we?" Charles asked, a hint of resentment creeping into his tone.

"Do you?" Binotto echoed, his eyes widening in disbelief. He realized, with a pang of regret, that he had missed a golden opportunity.

"Of course we do," Genevieve insisted, her smile widening. "Yes, of course," Binotto replied, trying to recover. "Charles and his connections to royalty. First Monaco, now you. It shouldn't surprise me if he's friends with the Pope."

"I am quite acquainted with the Pope," Charles said before realizing the slip.

"Of course you are," Binotto replied, his voice filled with a mix of awe and amusement.

"Well, Mr. Binotto, if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to Charles privately," Genevieve said, her voice soft but firm.

"Of course, Princess. I have other guests to greet," Binotto replied

"I too have some work," Charles tried to say, but Mattia cut him off. "No, you don't. Talk to the princess," he said sternly, leaving the two alone.

"I think we have some conversations that were incomplete," Genevieve said softly, her voice barely a whisper.

Charles couldn't help but bristle. "I don't think we do, Princess. If we did, you would have texted me. Why on earth would you take my number if you had no intentions of ever talking to me?" he asked, his voice rising slightly.

He could see her bodyguard, Louis, growing tense, his hand hovering over his earpiece. Emma, her secretary, placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to hold him back.

"Well, I would have if I hadn't broken my phone," Genevieve replied, her voice still soft.

"You what?" Charles asked, his eyes widening.

"I'm not usually clumsy, but that day, I was climbing the stairs of my jet when I tried to put my phone in my bag. It slipped out instead and fell out of sight. Since it was quite a height, it was gone. You know how iPhones are. Tried retrieving data but no use. I would have texted you on Instagram, but there's an entire PR team behind my account, and everyone would have read my message in the palace," Genevieve explained.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Charles said. "I just assumed you ghosted me."

"Oh, I didn't," Genevieve replied. "Turns out it was just plain bad luck. But I just assumed since I was going to see you in Imola, I didn't have to get your number illegally. Emma says that would be quite criminal."

Charles couldn't help but laugh. "Quite criminal," he repeated. "I sue people for that big time."