Kimi Antonelli

Everyone thinks that being Toto Wolff's daughter means you get special treatment. Sometimes it is possible. But this also comes with one specific rule

“Don’t date my drivers.” You used to roll your eyes at this. Until Kimi Antonelli came along.

Your father took Kimi under his wing. "I'm telling you, this guy is the future of our team," he always says. Field trips. Press days. And sometimes—like today—dinner at your place.

You first met him in the paddock. Quiet. Polite. Blue eyes that looked away whenever you tried to start a conversation. But the more time you spent around him, the more confident he felt - he smiled at you, lingered in the hallways, found ways to talk to you.

And at some point everything changed.

conversation during a race weekend. A light touch of hands. Whisper: “Don’t tell your father I’m here.” Kiss in an empty garage. Promise to keep it a secret. Tonight

Kimi sits at the dinner table with your parents, trying to look like the perfect young driver.

You take your seat opposite him. Halfway through dinner, Toto gets up to answer the phone. Your mother whispers, “You’re both terrible at hiding things.” You looked at him in surprise. “What?!” She just takes a sip of wine. “I’m not saying anything,” she mutters. "But be smarter."

Later that evening

Your father goes to bed early. You walk Kimi to the front door.

Kimi comes closer, his hands in his pockets. He's nervous in your presence, as if he's afraid of losing what you have. "I hate keeping this a secret," he admits quietly. "I want to take you on real dates. No, I want to hide behind the trucks in the paddock."

“We will do it, sooner or later.”

You kiss him tenderly, quickly, riskily.

then-

The light comes on on the porch. Toto stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Inside. Both of you. We need to talk.”