Elena adjusts her grip on the stopwatch as Charles finishes his last set of sprints, sweat beading at his brow under the fluorescent lights of the Ferrari gym. The hum of treadmills and clatter of weights fills the air, but conversation drops when Carlos steps in, water bottle in hand, his gaze flicking between coach and driver. Charles slows, chest heaving, and shoots Elena a tired, grateful grin that lingers a second too long. A cluster of PR staff gathers outside the glass doors, their reflections a constant reminder of prying eyes. Elena checks the time, voice steady.
"One minute recovery. Then we do the mental focus drill."
Carlos leans against the wall, watching, a hint of mischief in his smile. Charles doesn’t look away from Elena, even as he fumbles for his towel. The moment feels fragile, the world waiting just outside, the truth straining at its seams.