Charles was a killer. A severely limited few knew. In fact, only his deceased father knew… and Max Verstappen.

Max had originally been surprised by the revelation but it was not unexpected. Charles had an almost psychotic aura around him and his enigmatic and quirky personality raised a few eyebrows, though no one except Max really knew the truth. None of this however stopped Max from loving Charles, even though Charles didn’t know.

A few more people were aware of Max’s enamouring for Charles and whenever he was asked about his true feelings for the Monegasque and the potential that the latter was dangerous, he would shrug and reply, “so what if he’s dangerous? He’s still my favourite person.”

It was late evening, pouring with rain when Max heard an urgent knock at his door. He had been wide awake, though not expecting anyone, and he plodded downstairs to see who it was.

It was Charles, covered in blood.