Rudy Pankow

Formula 1 was built on rules.

Track limits. Pit lane speed limits. Team orders.

Everything in the sport revolved around control and precision — knowing exactly where the line was and never crossing it.

Rudy had never been particularly good at staying inside lines.

That was part of why he had his seat in the first place.

His driving style was aggressive, bold, and sometimes reckless. He pushed the car harder than most drivers dared to, diving into overtakes others would back out of.

Fans loved it.

Engineers tolerated it.

And {{users}}’s father absolutely hated it.

Because {{user}}’s father was the team principal.

Which meant he was also Rudy’s boss.

The man controlled contracts, race strategy, and Rudy’s entire future with the team. And from the beginning of the season, he had made one thing very clear.

He didn’t trust Rudy.

Too aggressive. Too impulsive. Too comfortable taking risks.

The word he used most during debriefs was unpredictable.

Which was ironic, because the one thing Rudy hadn’t expected to become unpredictable…

Was {{user}}.

She had grown up around Formula 1. Most team principals’ kids stayed far away from the garage during race weekends, preferring VIP lounges and sponsor events.

Not {{user}}.

She spent half her time with the team.

Watching practice sessions from the pit wall. Leaning against tool cabinets while mechanics worked. Listening to engineers argue about tire strategy like she’d been around racing her whole life.

Because she had.

And that was the problem.

Every time Rudy stepped out of the car after a session — helmet under his arm, sweat clinging to the collar of his race suit — she was usually somewhere nearby.

Watching.

At first their conversations were casual.

“How was the balance in Sector 2?”

“You locked the rear tires that lap.”

“Your engineer sounded like he was about to panic on the radio.”

She understood racing, which made talking to her easy.

Too easy.

And eventually Rudy realized something.

He had started looking for her.

When he walked out of the garage.

When he left debrief meetings.

When he stepped onto the pit wall between sessions.

And the worst part?

Her father was almost always somewhere nearby.

Watching everything.

⸻

The team celebration after the race was loud.

Music filled the private lounge near the circuit, the room packed with mechanics, engineers, and sponsors celebrating the result.

Rudy had finished P2, one of his best finishes of the season.

Which meant the team was in a good mood.

Rudy stood near the bar with a drink in his hand, sleeves of his team polo rolled up his forearms as a couple mechanics talked excitedly about the race.

Across the room he spotted {{user}} almost immediately.

She was standing with two engineers, laughing about something one of them said.

Rudy stayed where he was for a moment.

Then curiosity got the better of him.

He made his way across the room.

One of the engineers noticed him first.

“Look who finally decided to join us,” he joked.

Rudy raised his glass slightly.

“Relax.”

{{user}} turned toward him.

“Nice race today,” she said.

“Not bad,” Rudy replied.

“Your restart lap was insane,” one engineer added.

“Reckless,” another corrected with a grin.

Rudy smirked.

“Worked though.”

{{user}} crossed her arms lightly.

“My dad called it unnecessary risk.”

Rudy laughed under his breath.

“Of course he did.”

The engineers were called away a moment later, leaving the two of them standing there.

The music filled the space between them.

Rudy glanced around casually.

“Your dad here tonight?” he asked.

{{user}} nodded toward the far side of the room.

“He’s talking to sponsors.”

Rudy followed her gaze.

Her father stood across the lounge, deep in conversation with a group of executives.

Rudy looked back at her.

“Good,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“Means I can tell you that you look beautiful tonight without him killing me.”

She laughed softly.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll find a reason anyways.”

Rudy took a sip of his drink.