Page 83 of Red Flagged
“And now this,” he added quietly, nodding toward my stomach. Meaning the blood, whatever it meant.
My eyes prickled, but I said nothing.
“You need to take it easy, mon cœur,” he whispered, dragging his thumb over the spot his lips had kissed. “Let your body rest.Let your heart breathe. The three week break starts now, so use it.”
“I don’t know how to rest,” I rasped, because it was the truth.
He smiled sadly. “Then I’ll teach you.”
Something splintered in my chest. My throat ached from holding back the sob that wanted to crawl up, but I blinked hard and let him guide my wrist back down between us, tucked into the space where our bodies met under the covers.
He laid back down beside me, close but careful, and I felt him watching me. His hand grazed my lower stomach—just above the cramps, not pressing, just hovering there in silent empathy. A placeholder for comfort.
“Still hurting?” he asked after a long pause.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Not just from the drop. It’s… everything.”
“I know.” His voice was raw again. “I’m here.”
I sighed. “Only for a little bit. I have to get to Paris.” I turned my head to look at him. “Tu vas me manquer.”I’ll miss you.
His thumb traced the back of my knuckles. “Not as much as I’ll miss you.” A tired smile ghosted his mouth, and he rolled onto his back with a low exhale, staring up at the ceiling. I knew that sound. It was the one he made when his mind was already two days ahead, chewing on things he couldn’t quite say yet.
I waited for him to be ready to talk about it as we laid there together. My eyes closed, and I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I cracked them open again. When I glanced over, I saw the faint glow of his phone screen.
“What are you looking at?”
He flipped the screen toward me. “Mercer emailed.”
That woke me up a little more. “From Reinhardt’s contact?”
He nodded. “Late last night. Just saw it now.”
I squinted at the screen. There were two emails—one from Maverick Mercer, and one from Beckett Lachlan. Theywere short, sharp, and strategic. Investor speak and real-world consequences, coded just enough to skate plausible deniability, but the message was clear: the door was open.
One that kept him in the sport beside me.
From:Maverick Mercer
To:Callum Fraser
CC:Beckett Lachlan
Subject:Initial Conversation
Date:3:12 AM CET
Callum,
I was referred to you via Victor Reinhardt, who spoke highly of your integrity and influence in the Formula 1 community, not just as a driver but as an advocate and overall spokesperson of the sport.
I understand you're navigating a number of transitions right now, both personal and professional. Beckett and I would like to meet privately to discuss what might come next for you, should you choose to step back from the grid.
Beckett may have already mentioned that my wife and I are preparing to invest in Orion GP (new name TBD), pending final review from her ongoing investigation into the company’s leadership, history, and employee backgrounds. Since this is a new venture for us both, we’d feel more confident moving forward with the right partners in place. Should you choose to invest or advise, your insight and presence from on and off the track could prove invaluable.
We have a few initial models for ownership restructuring. If you’re open to it, I’d like to walk you through them and hear your priorities firsthand.
Let us know if you’re available to meet while you’re still in Europe. Beckett’s flying in this week. We can make time.
