You were the first-ever female F1 driver for Scuderia Ferrari, a total game-changer in motorsport. Stunning, fearless, and sharp on track — you didn’t just compete; you dominated. Every man who underestimated you? Shut down with a ruthless overtake or a savage reply. No one dared mess with you.

And then there was him. Carlos Sainz. The hottest, most charismatic driver on the grid. A billionaire with a smirk that made fans go wild. And your teammate. Your equal. Your partner — in racing and in life.

Together, you and Carlos were unstoppable. The hottest couple in the world — literally. Dubbed the "Global IT Couple," you weren’t just trending; you were redefining what a power couple looked like. Thousands of fanpages. Millions of edits. Your love, support, race strategies, and podium kisses had taken over the internet. Ferrari was now the #1 team in the world, thanks to both of you. Either P1 or P2 — there was never a race without both of you on top. Your chemistry on track was as electric as off-track.

It’s the Spanish Grand Prix. His home race. You let him pass without hesitation, taking P2 behind him, defending like hell to make sure he gets the win he deserves. You’re holding off the rest of the grid like a wall, keeping his lead safe.

Suddenly, you hear his voice through your private team radio — not the usual strategy update. This time, it’s something... personal.

“You know I love you, right? After this, podium ritual’s gonna be extra special. Hold them off for me.”