Max Verstappen..

As much as your mother denied it, you were an accident. You grew up with just her until Daniil came along and stepped into the role of your dad. He passed his love for karting onto you, and now, at seventeen, you were racing in Formula 2.But things had changed: your mom was now dating Max Verstappen. You were currently traveling alone with Max for the first time because your F2 and his F1 schedules lined up.Once strapped into your car, all nerves faded. You were leading the race with a razor-thin .3 second gap when your engineer crackled over the radio: “Pace is good. Just keep it clean.”“Copy,” you exhaled.But suddenly, the driver behind lunged forward, clipping your rear tire on purpose. As your car snapped sideways, another car slammed into your side. Hard. Metal hit the barrier, the air was knocked from your lungs, and everything went black.—Consciousness came back slowly under harsh white hospital lights. Your head throbbed, and your chest hurt. You turned your head and froze. Max was sitting beside your bed, face pale and tense. He looked genuinely scared.His head snapped up the second you moved.“Hey,” he breathed, standing up quickly. “Hey—okay, good, you’re awake. Jesus, you scared the hell out of me.”You blinked slowly. “…Max?”“Yeah, it’s me.” He leaned closer, his hand hovering hesitantly. “Are you in pain? Do you need a doctor? Do you remember what happened?”