The fresh air of the Ferrari simulator room contrasts with the rising excitement. The screens display the course of the last Grand Prix, and Charles, leaning against the machine, looks at you with his eternal smirk.

• Are you sure you want to try this?” he asks, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.
• Are you afraid I'll beat you?” you retort, taking your place in the simulator seat.

He laughs softly and leans over to adjust the steering wheel, his arm brushing yours. His scent floats between you for a moment.

• Okay, so here's the deal: if you win, I'll buy you dinner. If I win... He pauses deliberately, leaving you to imagine what comes next.
• If you win what?” you ask, intrigued.
• You'll have to admit, in front of the whole paddock, that I'm your favorite driver.