“She wasn’t snooping.” I snapped.
“Because you walked her out,” Mac cut in. “After she’d already seen telemetry, after she wandered into your side of the garage.”
“She didn’t touch anything,” I said. “She barely saw anything.”
Ross’s eyes narrowed. “And yet she was there. Which begs the question—how did she get in, and why did you help her leave without raising the alarm?”
I squared my shoulders. “Because I brought her in.”
Mac’s brow furrowed. “You what?”
“I didn’t sneak her past security,” I said quickly. “But she was asking questions. About the car. About what we’re allegedly doing. So I told her I would let her take a quick look—just a look—so she could see there’s nothing to hide.”
Ross let out a dry laugh. “That’s your excuse? You invited a hostile journalist into the garage in a noble attempt to clear the team’s name?”
“She wouldn’t drop it,” I said. “And I thought if she saw it for herself, it might shut the story down.”
“You’re not a PR officer, Aleks.” Ross’s voice dropped, but there was no hint of softness. “You don’t get to decide what’s good for the team.”
“She didn’t see anything confidential—”
“What if she had?” Mac cut in. “What if she’d taken photos? What if she’d recorded you admitting something she could twist?”
“She didn’t.”
Ross stood, circling slowly around his desk. “You think this was about her seeing the truth? No. She wanted access. She wanted proximity. And you handed it to her on a fucking platter.”
I clenched my jaw. “I’m suggesting you should take her seriously. She’s not some fluff journalist. She’s smart. And she’s persistent.”
“You don’t need to worry about what Elena Archer is or isn’t. We’ve dealt with far worse. What I do need from you is focus. Not whatever the hell that was back there.”
He stepped closer. Too close.
“You’re paid to drive. Not think. Not ask questions. And certainly not… interact with reporters who are trying to destroy the team.”
My blood turned to ice.
Mac watched quietly from the wall, arms crossed. I couldn’t tell whose side he was on.
“I’m not sleeping with her,” I said coldly.
Ross’s mouth curled. “Did I ask if you were?”
Silence again.
“There’s no cheating going on,” he added, tone suddenly calm. “You know that. I know that. But people like Archer?” He shook his head. “They make a career out of suggesting things they can’t prove. And I’m not about to let her ruin yours.”
I blinked. “Mine?”
He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You’re our golden boy, Aleks. But gold tarnishes fast in this business. You understand?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Distance yourself from her. Publicly. Privately. Entirely. No more interviews. No more ‘accidental’ encounters. You’ve got a championship to win—and we’ve got a brand to protect.”
He turned and moved back to his desk. “And if she ever sets foot in our garage again, I’ll have her credentials pulled so fast she’ll be covering karting by Tuesday.”
Mac pushed off the wall, nodding toward the door. “Go cool off.”
I left without another word.
But as I walked the corridor alone, the pressure building in my chest had nothing to do with the race.
