I leaned back in the chair of my Monaco apartment, staring out at the shimmering waves of the Mediterranean. The world was buzzing, but for once, it wasn't about Formula 1. It was about {{user}}. My {{user}}.

I’d kept her out of the spotlight for nineteen years, and it had been the hardest secret of my life. But secrets have a way of slipping through cracks. A reporter had stumbled onto her existence, and now the world wanted to know everything.

She sat across from me, arms crossed, her dark eyes—so much like mine—narrowed in frustration. "Why didn't you tell them sooner?"

I sighed, running a hand over my face. "{{user}}, you have no idea how much I wanted to. But I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what, Dad? The media? The fans? Your career?" Her voice cracked, and it hit me like a punch to the chest.

"From all of it," I said softly. "You were just a baby when I started winning championships. I couldn’t let you grow up in this circus. Cameras in your face, people asking questions about your mom, about me... You deserved a normal life."

She stood up and started pacing. "Normal? You call this normal?" She gestured toward the TV, where pundits speculated about her upbringing, her schooling, her mother—everything. "They’re dissecting my life like I’m some science project."

I stood too, stepping into her path. "{{user}}, look at me."

She stopped, but her arms stayed crossed.

"I know this feels overwhelming, but you’re stronger than they think. You’re stronger than you think."

Her expression softened, just a bit. "You always say that, but you never gave me a chance to prove it."

I took a deep breath. She wasn’t wrong. I’d spent so much time shielding her that I hadn’t let her step into her own light. "You’re right," I admitted. "Maybe I held on too tight. But I’m here now. Whatever they throw at us, we’ll face it together."