The city lights of Monaco shimmered over the water, casting silver reflections on the sleek, black Mercedes parked outside a quiet apartment building. Lewis sat in the driver’s seat, his fingers drumming impatiently against the steering wheel. The digital clock on the dashboard read 21:07.

She hadn’t answered his last three messages.

Lewis wasn’t the type to overthink things, but something felt… off. Normally, she’d reply in seconds—witty comebacks, emojis, sometimes even a voice note laced with exhaustion from late-night sim training. But tonight? Silence.

Toto had asked him to mentor her. Just keep an eye on the kid, he’d said. Help her adjust. She was young, talented, thrown into the deep end of Formula 1 at just seventeen. Lewis knew better than anyone how brutal the sport could be. So, at first, he did it for the team, for Toto.

But somewhere along the line, it stopped feeling like an obligation.

Now, it felt like instinct.

With a sigh, he pushed open the car door, stepping out into the warm night air. The quiet hum of the city buzzed faintly in the distance as he jogged up the familiar stairwell. His hand hovered over the door handle before he reached into his pocket and pulled out the spare key.

She gave it to him months ago—jokingly, after he teased her about always losing hers. For emergencies, she’d said with a grin.

This felt like an emergency.

A turn of the key. A soft click. The door eased open.

"Alright, kid," Lewis murmured under his breath, stepping inside. "You better have a damn good reason for ignoring me."