30 parts Complete It wasn't supposed to happen.
Not with him.
Not with the quiet, careful driver who rarely stayed past midnight - let alone until the world blurred into noise and neon and champagne foam.
But when the sun broke over Abu Dhabi, she woke up to find Oscar Piastri's hand resting over her ribs, the hotel room still smelling like smoke and spilled victory.
The McLaren press officer and the McLaren driver.
A headline waiting to destroy them both.
They agreed not to speak of it again.
But F1 doesn't forget, and neither did they.
Between press conferences and whispered PR briefings, glances turned into questions, and questions turned into jealousy - the kind that burns quietly, the kind that can't be contained in paddocks or press statements.
Because sometimes the story you're paid to hide becomes the one you can't stop living.
