Max Verstappen has a sister, Angelina Verstappen but, in public, she is known as Angelina Mango. She and Max have a four year gap and she is the youngest.
Their dad wanted another boy but it didn't happen. At 5 years old, her parents divorced. She...
The roar of the engine at Imola had become background noise to me, almost soothing in its predictability. My focus was absolute, every corner and straight committed to memory. But despite the intense concentration, my thoughts kept drifting back to Angelina. She wasn't here today, for obvious reasons—the pregnancy had kept her in Monte Carlo. We had chosen not to find out the baby's sex, hoping for a surprise. Still, I couldn't help but think about her, about us becoming parents any moment now.
As I rounded another curve, Andrea's voice crackled through the radio, cutting into my thoughts.
"Charles," he said, calm but unmistakably urgent. "Angelina's in the hospital. Your child is on his way."
My heart skipped a beat.
My child.
The words hit me harder than any race incident could. It took a second to sink in—Angelina was in labor. Right now.
Without a second thought, I made the decision. "Box, box," I called, already mentally shifting gears. There was no race that could hold me back now.
I brought the car into the pit lane and, instead of preparing for another set of laps, I unstrapped myself and stepped out. The crew stood there in confusion, but I didn't care. "I'm done," I said into the radio. "Get my things. I need to get to the airport."
By the time I reached Nice, my heart was racing faster than it had in the car. Every second felt like an eternity as I sped from the airport to the hospital in my Ferrari. When I arrived, I ran inside, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I asked the staff for directions to Angelina's room. They told me the baby hadn't been born yet. Relief, mixed with anxiety, washed over me. I hadn't missed it.
After throwing on a surgical gown, mask, and cap, they led me to the delivery room. I stepped inside and there she was, lying in bed, her face pale but determined. Even through the exhaustion, she looked beautiful. I moved to her side, taking her hand in mine.
"Angelina," I whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm here. I love you."
She opened her eyes, a weak smile appearing on her lips. "You made it," she breathed, her voice shaking.
"I wouldn't miss this for the world," I replied, brushing a tear from her cheek. I could see the strain on her face, but she was strong, stronger than I'd ever seen her.
Two hours later, a sound filled the room that made my heart stop—the unmistakable cry of our baby. Our son. Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared, utterly speechless. The nurse carefully wrapped him in a blanket and brought him over to Angelina first. She took him, her hands trembling as she lowered her mask and kissed him softly. The sight of her with our child was almost too much to take.
"You did it," I whispered to her, my voice breaking with emotion. "You're incredible."
She smiled at me through her tears and passed our son into my arms. The moment I held him, it was like the world shifted. Nothing would ever be the same. This little life—our son—was real, and he was perfect. I lowered my mask and kissed his tiny head. "Jules," I whispered. "Jules Mirco Leclerc." The name felt like it belonged to him. Mirco was a name we both loved, and it suited him.
Angelina nodded, her eyes filled with love and exhaustion. "Jules," she repeated softly.
As we sat together, cradling our son, I held onto her and this moment with everything I had. "Thank you," I whispered to her again. "For giving me everything."
Just as we were basking in the joy of our new family, the door opened, and in came Max, fresh from his own race. Despite having won, he'd skipped the podium to be here. Close behind were Jos, Pascale, Arthur, and Lorenzo.
Max grinned as he saw us. "I couldn't miss this," he said, stepping forward. Jos gave me a proud nod, and Pascale rushed to Angelina's side.
"Congratulations, my dear," she said, looking at Angelina with pure admiration. "How was it? The delivery, I mean."
Angelina, tired but smiling, replied, "It was painful, but worth every second."
As she spoke, I had gone to check on Jules, who had been taken for a few routine checks. When I returned, everyone's attention was immediately on the baby.
Lorenzo was the first to ask, "So, what's his name?"
I smiled, looking at my family before turning back to Angelina and our son. "Jules Mirco Leclerc."
Lorenzo let out a small laugh. "Charles, you're the first to have a kid. Who's next?"
I laughed, looking down at Jules. "This is all thanks to Angelina."
I offered Jules to Arthur, who carefully cradled his tiny nephew. Even though I trusted my brother, I still kept a protective hand under Jules's head, just in case. Pascale pulled me into a tight hug, then turned to Angelina, who was already beaming at the sight of Max now holding our baby.
I kept a close eye on my son, my heart swelling with pride. Every member of the family took turns holding Jules, and as Angelina looked on, exhausted but happy, I sat beside her, never letting go of her hand.
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Liked by arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, landonorris, Formula1, Scuderiaferrari, Vic_toria, carlossainz55 and other 1.391.638
@charles_leclerc: Today, I made the easiest decision of my life—stepping out of the Imola GP to witness the birth of our son, Jules Mirco Leclerc. Both Angelina and Jules are healthy, and I couldn't be more grateful. Seeing him for the first time, holding him, it's a moment I'll cherish forever.
For now, I've decided to take a break from the next race to spend time with my family, but I'll be back for Abu Dhabi. Angelina will stay home with our little one, and even though she won't be by my side at the track, I'll be racing for both of them.
Thank you all for the love and support during this special time in our lives. ❤️
