TURN OF FATE, cl16

54.

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR.
SAUDI ARABIA.

Dariyah stole a glance at Charles, his unease practically suffocating the air between them. He sat stiffly, fingers tapping an anxious rhythm on his knee, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the plane window. No matter how many times he insisted he was fine, she knew better. She could feel it— the weight of anticipation pressing down on him, the fear of why awaited him once they landed.

Reaching over, she gently placed her hand over his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to pretend with me," she murmured, "I'm here for you, Char. It's okay to not be okay."

Charles exhaled sharply, finally turning to meet her eyes. And in that moment, she saw it— the storm brewing behind his calm facade.

"Oh, you poor thing." Saritha immediately wrapped her arms around his, giving him all the comfort she could provide.

As the plane begins to touch down in Saudi Arabia, Charles takes a deep breath, his fingers tightening briefly around the armrest. Saroyan watches him, sensing the storm raging beneath his calm facade. This was it— the first time he was stepping into a country where his newfound faith wasn't just accepted but embraced. And yet, the weight of the world still say on his shoulders.

As the couple exit the plan and step into the airport, Charles closes his eyes, expecting to hear a lot backlash— but the constraint is stark. No hood, no hostility— just curious eyes, cameras flashing— Charles pulling Dariyah behind his back, so that the flashes wouldn't hurt her eyes— and a handful of fans holding banners that say "Welcome Home, Charles" and "We Stand With You"

For a moment, Charles freezes. Dariyah watches as something flickers in his expression— hesitation, disbelief, maybe even relief. After everything, after being cast out by Ferrari, after the huge backlash all over his social media pages, this was the first sign that he didn't just have his family and close friends' support.

The press is there, of course. Reporters with microphones rush toward him, questions flying:

"Charles, how does it feel to be in Saudi Arabia after everything?"
"Do you think Mercedes is the right team for you?"
"What do you have to say to your critics?"

This time, Charles doesn't hesitate. He steps forward, his voice steady.

"I came here because I believe in this new chapter. I won't let anyone define who I am— whether as a driver or as a person. My faith is a part of me now, just like racing has always been. And for those who doubt me... I'll let my performance speak for itself."

People around them let out an impressed gasp at his little speech. The reporters still weren't satisfied with the couple, and so, they started asking more questions.

As the cameras flashed and reporters clamoured for his attention, one voice cut out through the noise— sharp, pointed.

"Has your girlfriend influenced you into reverting?"

A hush fell over the crowd, anticipation thick in the air. Dariyah stiffened beside him, her heart pounding. She knew this question was coming but it still stung like a bloody bee.

Charles, however, didn't flinch. Instead, he took a deep breath and met the reporter's gaze head-on. And Dariyah swears to God that she had never found Charles so fricking hot until that moment.