“You have my offer. Take it or leave it. Contracts will take time to write up—I’ll make sure my lawyer has them prepared by the Montreal race.” Which only gives Delilah just under two weeks to get this drawn up. It’s a big ask of her, but she already told me she’d help me figure out licensing of the program, or whatever it is that needs to be done to protect myself and my work.
“He’ll get his upgrade package when we get the algorithm,” Ilya says.
“No. He gets his upgrade package in time for use at Montreal. My lawyer will be attending the Montreal Grand Prix, so we can sign contracts then. Handshake deal today, confirming that you will get sole use of my algorithm for the rest of this season.”
“Done,” Soren says. He closes the distance between us and offers me his hand.
It feels a bit like making a deal with the devil when I shake it. Then I shake Declan’s. Finally, Ilya.
“Is he really worth it?” Ilya asks me quietly, expression curious.
“Yes,” I say.
Even if I might never be able to give another person my heart after experiencing this pain, he is worth it. Our relationship was worth this agony, no matter how short-lived. And professionally speaking, Asher’s talent is worth fighting for—even if he doesn’t know how to do it himself. He has the potential to become one of the greats of F1. I don’t expect I’ll stick around long enough to see it up close, but knowing I helped—no matter howminutely—will make it worth every pint of blood I’ve had to extract on his behalf.
Ilya nods, offering me a half-smile. “Well, then. He is the biggest fool I’ve ever met.”
I get the subtext. He knows Asher and I were together—it seems everyone on the team does. He knows we broke up, and he’s offering me a minute gesture and a few words of support.
That doesn’t help make me feel any better… but our meeting today does make me feel like I’ve started to earn my spot at the table.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Asher
Icut straight to the chase when I drag my ass into headquarters to meet with Ilya. “What do you want?"
"Hello to you too, Asher. I’m quite well, thank you for asking. How are you? Are you fully recovered?”
“I had a very mild concussion and some bruises. I’m fine.” I probably didn’t do myself any favors with my liquor binge, but still. After flushing out my system with the disgusting smoothies Gio makes, I feel significantly better,physically.
Mentally and emotionally is another story.
“That’s good to hear, since we have another race in just under two weeks.”
“Is there a point to this conversation?” I snarl.
“A few points, now that you mention it. First of all; enough with being an asshole. You made good progress. Stick to it.”
On the heels of my rudeness comes a wave of exhaustion. Being a dick used to take no energy and occasionally deliver gratification. Now, it’s just tiring.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
“Second: Ulrich is suspended for the season.”
It takes me a moment to process his words. When I finally do, shock grabs me in a chokehold. “What?I thought it was determined that his swerve into my car was accidental.”
“On the day of the race, yes. Then, members of this team submitted new data for analysis, along with a report threatening to make alotof noise if the FIA didn’t take action.” He smiles thinly. “Considering our proof was conclusive, action was taken.”
New data. Only one person had access to data that nobody else did.Victoria. I vaguely remember her mentioning Ulrich in my hotel room, but I wasn’t exactly functioning on all cylinders.
The pieces click. Victoria didn’t refrain from visiting me in the hospital because she was caught up with Elio or stuck in a debrief. She stayed behind at HQ because the hours after a race are the most critical time to catch inconsistencies and push for penalties, especially if wrongdoings were cleared. Making the stewards backtrack a decision is no easy feat.
Of courseshe managed to make it happen. Victoria’s never been anything less than exceptionally brilliant and phenomenally hardworking.
“That’s good,” I nod. “He was fucking reckless and dangerous.”
“As were you.” Ilya gives me a hard, unamused stare. “Victoria told you not to overtake before the crash. That was a direct order from herand me. We saw things onthe track that you didn’t. While I’m not unused to you ignoring orders, doing so in circumstances like the Miami race isn’t just frustrating and reckless; it’s incredibly stupid and phenomenallydangerous.”
