Driven by Fate- CHARLES LECLERC

No Rest for the Fast

POV: Carlotta Damian

Monaco was beautiful this time of year. The sun bounced off the shimmering waters of the Mediterranean as I stretched out on the balcony of my hotel suite, soaking in the warmth and the peace. After the chaos of the last Grand Prix, I had planned to take these few days to unwind, to escape from the relentless pace of the racing world, even if just for a little while.

But, of course, nothing ever goes as planned.

I was halfway through my breakfast when my phone buzzed on the table. I glanced down, spotting the caller ID: Racing Bulls HQ.

I sighed, knowing immediately that my days of relaxation were numbered.

"Hello?" I answered, trying to sound more alert than I felt.

"Carlotta, it's Jeff," the team manager's voice crackled through the line. "Got some news for you."

I raised an eyebrow, curious. "What's up?"

"Yuki's out for Mexico. He has a penalty and won't be able to race. We need you to step in."

A surge of adrenaline coursed through me. The Mexico Grand Prix? This wasn't just some reserve driver duty—they needed me to race. I glanced out at the stunning view of the Monaco coastline, but it wasn't enough to keep me from feeling the pull of the track.

"Well, there goes my vacation," I muttered, already standing up to pack. "I'm in. When do I leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. Private jet, no big deal. Daniel's flying out with you."

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Flying with Daniel Ricciardo was always a guaranteed good time. "Alright, I'll be ready."

I hung up the phone and stared at my half-eaten breakfast.

Goodbye lazy days in Monaco, hello Mexico.

I grabbed my suitcase and started packing, my mind already racing through what I'd need to prepare.

The next morning, I found myself boarding a sleek private jet, Daniel already lounging in one of the leather seats, feet up and grinning as he scrolled through his phone.

"Well, well, if it isn't the now famous Carlotta Damian," he teased, lowering his sunglasses. "You ready for this, superstar?"

I rolled my eyes, tossing my bag onto the seat next to him. "Yes, I am. But I was kinda enjoying my vacation. Now, I'm back to this chaos."

Daniel laughed. "Hey, you love it. Besides, you'll probably smoke all of us in Mexico, so no complaints, right?"

I smirked. "We'll see."

As the plane took off, Daniel and I joked around, chatting about everything from racing to the latest gossip in the paddock. The flight was smooth, and as much as I missed the relaxation of Monaco, being back in race mode felt exhilarating. There was something about the thrill of competition that always drew me back in.

When we landed in Mexico City, the airport was already buzzing with activity. Cameras flashed as we exited the jet, and journalists swarmed around us, firing off questions. I kept my face neutral, used to the barrage of attention, and stuck to brief, polite answers.

"Carlotta, how do you feel about stepping in for Tsunoda? Do you think you're ready?" one journalist called out.

I met his gaze, cool and composed. "I'm always ready."

Another chimed in, "Are you nervous about competing against Max Verstappen and the others in a full race?"

I gave a slight smile. "I'm looking forward to it."