Page 140 of Racing for Redemption
A soft knock on the door of my makeshift office in the motorhome breaks my reverie.
“Come in,” I call, straightening the lapels of my blazer.
James enters with his characteristic easy confidence, his hair pulled back in that neat bun that’s become his trademark in the paddock. He’s changed since I first met him—still intense, but with a quiet serenity that comes from guiding a driver through the tumultuous waters of Formula 1 and seeing them succeed.
“Violet,” he greets me warmly, extending his hand. “Always a pleasure.”
I shake his hand firmly. “Likewise, James. Thank you for making time before the race weekend properly begins.”
“For William’s future? I’d make time at 3 AM if needed. The kid deserves it.” He settles into the chair across from me. “So, end of the season. End of contract.”
I don’t waste time with small talk. “Let’s get straight to it. This season has been a learning curve for everyone, but William has exceeded our expectations.”
James nods, his expression neutral but attentive.
“The points finish in Melbourne,” I continue, “the podium at Silverstone—these aren’t flukes. They’re glimpses of what he can achieve with the right machinery, and the right team behind him.” I lean forward slightly. “And I believe Colton Racing is that team.”
“What exactly are you proposing?” James asks, though the glint in his eye tells me he already knows.
“A multi-year contract. Three years, minimum.” I slide the folder toward him. “We want to build the team around William. He’s shown the maturity, the speed, and the dedication we need to climb back to where Colton Racing belongs.”
James flips through the contract, scanning the figures. Then he laughs—a genuine, surprised sound.
“What’s funny?” I ask, one eyebrow raised.
“I didn’t expect anything less from you, Violet. Direct and ambitious.” He closes the folder. “But I’m pleased. I’ve watched William mature since joining the team. Those anger managementissues from his F2 days? Gone. He’s happier, more focused.”
I keep my expression neutral, though my pulse quickens at the unspoken implication. “He’s found his place.”
“More than that.” James leans back, studying me. “He’s found purpose. I haven’t seen him this passionate about racing since his F4 days. He’s putting in extra hours in the simulator, working with engineers late into the night, and mentoring Ethan like he’s been doing it for years.”
Pride blooms in my chest. “He’s a natural leader when he wants to be.”
“Indeed.” James pauses, and I know what’s coming next. “I should be transparent, Violet. I’m aware that things between you two have… evolved since Melbourne.”
I don’t flinch. “And?”
“And nothing. It’s not my business.” He shrugs. “But as his manager, I need to ensure that William’s desire to stay with Colton Racing is about more than just proximity to you. And that your desire to keep him isn’t clouded by personal feelings.”
The question stings, though it’s fair. I’ve asked myself the same thing during sleepless nights.
“I understand your concern,” I reply carefully. “But I run this team based on results and potential, not personal attachments. William has proven his worth on track. That’s why I want him in that seat for the next three years.”
James nods. “And what about William’s concerns? The car development, the financial stability of the team?”
“We’re making progress on both fronts.” I shift forward, passion bleeding into my voice despite my best efforts. “The points we’ve scored this season have already improved our standing for prize money. And we’ve secured a title sponsor for next year.”
“Belforte Construction?” James asks, eyebrows raised.
“Yes. I’ve personally overseen the due diligence.” I don’t mention the hours spent investigating Silas Belforte’s mafia connections, traveling to meet our Italian lawyers conducting the investigation, ensuring his money is clean enough for our purposes. “Their funding will allow us to accelerate our development program significantly.”
James considers this for a long moment, then reaches for a pen from his jacket pocket. “William trusts you, Violet. He believes in what you’re building here.” He pauses, hovering over the contract. “And so do I.”
Relief washes through me as he signs his part of the contract. Eight million guaranteed, with performance bonuses that could push it to fourteen million over three years. A substantial investment, but one I believe will pay dividends as we climb the Constructors’ standings.
“Welcome to the next chapter of Colton Racing,” I say as we both stand to shake hands again.
James’ grip is firm. “Just one more thing,” he says, his tone light, but his expression serious. “Take care of him—both the driver and the man. I like him a lot, almost like a younger brother, and I would prefer not to see him broken.”
