Right before the Ferrari Circuit Rally, my fiancé Rufus Delgado stopped me as I was heading out to the track.

"Christine Swanson, we're swapping the starting driver for this race. Margot Fox's taking the lead. You'll run blocker and shield her out there."

I froze where I stood.

Rufus knew exactly what this meant. This was my last race before retiring to get married.

It was also the most important race of my career—my shot at a sixth straight championship, at becoming the number one female driver in the world.

Six years ago, Rufus's team was on the verge of folding.

I was the one who took title after title, who dragged the team from total obscurity to the top tier of the sport.

And now they wanted me to step aside for a rookie who'd barely scraped through her qualifying trials.

I refused outright.

"This is my race. I'm not giving it up."

Rufus frowned.

"Margot needs this championship."

"You've already won five. One more doesn't mean anything."

His face darkened.

"Christine, this is the team's decision."

"If you won't follow it, you know what happens."

I laughed.

"You'll fire me?"

Rufus didn't deny it.

And the entire crew—the people who'd stood beside me through all five championships—silently went along with it.

Then it hit me. This wasn't about Margot needing the championship.

It was that they'd decided the team didn't need me anymore.

I pulled the team badge off my chest, then slid the engagement ring off my finger and pushed them both across to Rufus.

"In that case."

"I don't want the team. And I don't want you either."

——

I turned and walked toward my car.

Only to find Margot already sitting in it, dressed in a brand-new racing suit.

When she saw me coming, she seemed to startle, then said timidly,

"Christine, I'm so sorry. But Rufus said that starting today, this car belongs to me."

My head buzzed. I spun around and grabbed Rufus by the collar.

"What is this? You gave her my car? On what grounds! This is my car! Who said you could hand it to her!"

My eyes burned red as I locked onto him.

"This car is six years of my work! It's a masterpiece!"

"Three hundred-plus point races over six years. Broken bones, hospital beds—that's the data we earned. Countless all-nighters with the engineers tearing it down and rebuilding it!"

"It carried me to five world titles! And you gave it to me…!"

I bit down on my lip, fighting back the tears rising in my chest.

It was also the first car Rufus ever built—the gift he gave me when we fell in love.

That day, he wheeled it out in front of me, face flushed, and asked if I'd be willing to climb to the top of the racing world with him, side by side.

He said, "Christine, racing is a dangerous sport. Out on that off-road circuit, you face life and death alone. But I want this car to face it with you, in my place."

And now he'd handed that car—the one that meant everything to both of us—to someone else.

Rufus just pried my hands off his collar, his voice flat.

"That car is registered under the team's name."

"Every modification cost went through the team's books."

"Didn't you just say you didn't want the team, and you didn't want me either?"

"Since you're leaving the team."

"Then naturally you've got no right to use team property. Why shouldn't I give it to a newcomer?"

The words landed like a knife.

I stared at him, and a chill spread through my whole body.

Six years ago, when the team couldn't even cover the cost of renting a track,

I poured in every cent of my prize money. I ran race after race, chasing sponsors day and night, holding the whole thing together until now.

So all those years of money I'd earned with my life had gone into the team's account—and just like that, it had nothing to do with me anymore.

I didn't even have the right to use it anymore.

Margot tugged carefully at Rufus's sleeve.

"Rufus, maybe we should just let it go."

"Christine's a veteran on this team, after all. If she's upset because of me, I'd never forgive myself."

Then she lowered her voice and coaxed me too.

"Christine, don't hold a grudge against Rufus. A rally's brutal, you know. You're thirty now. He's just worried your body can't take it."

Hearing that, I laughed, the kind of laugh that comes when anger has nowhere left to go.

But Rufus had already turned and walked over to Margot. "Let me adjust your gear."

He crouched down, lifted her foot onto his knee, and fixed her shoe with his own hands.

Margot flushed deep red, her eyes drifting toward me with that same picture of innocence.

"Rufus, won't this look bad…"

Rufus let out a low laugh.

"What's bad about it?"

"You're the most important person on this team. Today, no one matters more than you."

The words landed like a slap across my face.

Everyone crowded around her, laughing warmly, walking her through the race briefing about to begin, the wind, the terrain, the rival drivers' profiles.

I stood where I was. Not one person acknowledged me. No one even set out a comms headset for me.

All that was left for me was a backup bike that had been retired last year.

Everyone had silently agreed to leave me out in the cold, waiting for me to cave.

Without a team backing me, there was no way I'd finish this rally.

I clenched my jaw, my nails nearly digging into my palms.

That was when a message came through on my phone.

It was from the manager of the team next door, a road-condition report so thorough it left nothing out.

"I heard everything you two said."

"Christine, my team will always welcome you."

"Still sulking?"

Rufus had come over at some point.

I switched off my phone and looked up at him.

He acted as if nothing had happened at all.

He held the track-analysis tablet out in front of me, his voice perfectly calm.

"The wind shifted today. Past the third supply point, the crosswind's going to get worse. I had someone mark out the road conditions and the corner data. Take a look for yourself."

I didn't reach for it.

Rufus frowned slightly, then crouched down without a care in the world and started a final check on that old bike.

Then, as if something had just occurred to him, he said, "Didn't you keep asking me to come home with you to meet your parents? The team always had something come up at the last minute, so it never worked out. After this race is over, I'll go back with you."

Something caught in my chest.

I didn't know when it had started, that Rufus, the one whose every thought used to be only of me, had become this.

Every time he needed to push me aside, he'd leave me hanging first, waiting for me to bow my head on my own.

And if I didn't, he'd toss me some small kindness, then breeze past the whole thing as if it were nothing.

I lowered my eyes and said only one thing.

"We'll see."

Rufus's hands paused. He hadn't expected that from me.

But all at once I remembered.

Every single time I'd said I wanted to bring him home to meet my parents, they'd start getting ready days in advance.

My mom would head to the market before dawn to buy groceries. My dad would scrub the yard spotless, inside and out.

A whole table of son-in-law's-favorite dishes, kept warm from noon clear into the night, and what they always got in the end was word that something had come up for Rufus.

They were crushed, every time, yet they'd force a smile and comfort me instead.

"It's fine. Career comes first for young people. Next time will be just as good."

This time, though, they waited a long while.

A notification suddenly popped up on my phone—Margot's personal account, of all things.

I'd never once looked at it.

But this time, for some reason, I tapped in as if pulled by some invisible hand.

My hands started shaking, and I couldn't stop them.

So that was it. Every time Rufus had stood me up for meeting my parents, it had never been because of team business.

The time he said he had to meet a sponsor, he was out shopping for clothes with Margot.

The time he said there was an emergency meeting, he was taking Margot to Disney to unwind.

The day he said something had gone wrong with the training data—

In the photo, he was seated at Margot's family dinner table, eating with her parents.

Margot leaned against him, smiling sweetly, and the comments were all teasing: "Future son-in-law," "When's the wedding?"

And Rufus had never said a word to set anyone straight. He'd even gone through and liked Margot's posts, one by one.

My breath tightened, bit by bit, until I scrolled to the most recent post.

It was a close-up of a racing bike.

I recognized it in a heartbeat. It was my car.

Margot's caption read:

【He said he wanted to give me a special gift for my zodiac year.】

【Starting today, this team's crown jewel, "Promise," is officially renamed "Little Margot."】

I stared at that photo, unblinking.

In it, the "Promise" that Rufus had once carved into the bike with his own hands had been ground clean off.

In its place was a brand-new little-bell design.

I finally understood. Handing my car to Margot wasn't a last-minute decision, and neither was making me run interference for her.

He'd planned all of this long ago.

I lifted my head, held the phone out in front of Rufus, and asked, my voice tight:

"How do you explain this?"

Rufus glanced at the screen without so much as raising his eyelids and said flatly:

"It's just an activity after the rookie's qualifying race. Christine, throw a tantrum if you want, but don't go spreading filthy rumors about a young girl."

I kept my eyes on him and pressed:

"And the car? Why was my name ground off?"

Rufus finally looked up at me.

There wasn't a flicker of guilt on his face. If anything, he was calm, almost as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Christine, you're thirty already. Other teams would've cut you long ago. I'm the one who kept protecting you, the only reason you've held onto your starting seat."

My whole body went rigid.

But Rufus seemed completely oblivious to the look on my face.

"You're getting married next year. Sooner or later you'll be going back to family life. This car was always meant to go to a newcomer. The race is the perfect chance to make Margot a name for herself. What's the problem with that?"

"Christine, be reasonable. Don't make a scene and embarrass everyone."

All at once, I went completely calm.

I looked at him and gave a small nod.

"Understood."

With that, I pushed my car toward the track.

Rufus visibly relaxed, certain I'd finally caved.

But what he didn't know was this:

A moment ago, when Jim James had messaged to ask if I'd made up my mind, I'd already sent back a single word.

"Fine."

When I rolled my bike out onto the starting grid, the entire arena erupted in an instant.

Countless spectators shot to their feet.

"What's going on?! Why isn't Christine in the starting lineup?!"

"Isn't that her championship car?! How does some rookie get to ride it?!"

"They put the five-time champion on a reject bike and a rookie on the championship car—has the team lost its mind?!"

Some even shouted toward the team in fury:

"Give Christine her car back!"

But no one paid them any attention.

The starting gun cracked, and every car launched forward at once.

The roar of the engines swept across the entire arena in a heartbeat.