Page 56 of Close Contact
The room laughed, and evenCallumand Marco chuckled. “Fair enough.”Callumleaned back against the sofa with that easy confidence of his.
I turned back to the crowd. “Marco is one of the best defensive drivers I’ve ever seen.Callumis the most aggressive driver on the grid without going over the limit. There’s a reason he’s a four-time champion, and it’s because he knows how to take control without crossing the line. How to push you where you need it most—and still leave room for you to breathe. Or beg.”
Callum’shand tightened on the mic, and that was all the confirmation I needed. He was thinking about it. That night inhis shower. The moment he’d begged for a taste of me when I told him to be a good boy.
I didn’t look at him. Just reached for my water and took a long, slow sip before finishing my answer.
Revenge, mon amour.
My body was really starting to ache now that the adrenaline was wearing off, and sitting in this position was brutal. My back felt like it was on fire.
The moderator moved on to ask Marco a question, but I tuned it out whenCallumleaned in, holding his microphone away. I did the same, leaning in just enough to be casual, but not enough to be too intimate.
“Later, I’m going to finish what I started. You’re not walking straight tomorrow,” he whispered, quiet enough so only I could hear.
I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood. My stomach dropped straight through the floor while hesmirked.Sitting there as if he hadn’t just said something that made me want to crawl into his lap in front of all these goddamn cameras and show them what was really on our minds.
I was not thinking about tire degradation. I was thinking about how my thighs were still sticky under this fireproof suit and the man beside me was acting as though he didn’t just leave a new mark on my neck before I’d walked in here.
The moderator cleared his throat to move on from Marco. “Aurélie, there’s been a lot of speculation lately about your future in Formula 1. Care to shed some light on that?”
I sat back, a smile playing on my lips as I thought about my conversation with the Ferrari team principal. “I think my future is looking pretty bright right now,” I said cryptically. “My future inF1is certain. It’s nice to finally silence the noise.”
“Speaking of noise,Aurélie, you’ve been the subject of a lot of scrutiny on social media. Some have accused you of?—”
“Sleeping my way to the top?” I cut him off, my voice sharp but steady. “Being a whore? Yes, I’m aware. It’s hard to miss when every other comment on my own social posts is some variation of that.”
The room went uncomfortably quiet, reporters shifting in their seats. I saw Marco glance at me, his brow furrowed, andCallum’sjaw clenched beside me.
“But let me make one thing very clear,” I continued. “I didn’t get here because of who I’ve dated or who my brother is. I got here because of my talent. Today isn’t just a win for me; it’s a reminder that I’m more than my brother’s shadow, more thanCosta’sprotégé, and definitely more than what a bunch of keyboard warriors think of me. I know myself better than they do, and I let my driving do the talking.”
The moderator cleared his throat. “Aurélie, let’s try to keep the language?—”
“Respectfully,” I interrupted, turning to him, “you can review this later if you’d like. But if you think silencing me is the move, you might want to consider how wise that is when I’m addressing systemic sexism that’s been festering in this sport for decades.”
Marco lifted his microphone to speak. “Well, she’s not wrong.”
That earned a ripple of laughter.
“Aurélie,” a reporter behind the moderator jumped in, eager to shift the tone. “You mentioned systemic sexism. Do you think today’s win will change perceptions?”
“I hope so. But change doesn’t happen overnight. Winning is one step, but there’s a long road ahead. And let’s be honest, there are still drivers on this grid who will play dirty. Whether you choose to believe that or not is your prerogative, but I hope they’re happy with the race result they deserved.”
Callumlet out a soft chuckle beside me, his voice low. “Subtle as always.”
I smirked, and moments later I caught him watching me while Marco talked about his battle withKimi.Callumdidn’t even pretend to hide it—eyes dragging down my body, lingering on my mouth.
My cheeks burned. My thighs clenched.
Focus, Dubois.
The questions kept coming—about the rain, the strategy, the overtakes. I answered each one with a mix of honesty and sass, keeping the reporters on their toes.
When the moderator wrapped up the conference, the room erupted into a flurry of activity as reporters gathered their things and prepared to leave.
Marco clapped me on the back as we stood. “You might just be the most entertaining winner Monaco’s ever had.”
I looked out at the crowd one last time. “Just wait till the next one.”
