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As the sun set over London, guests began flowing into the venue in their finest suits and most beautiful gowns, stepping out of lustrous supercars and limousines.

Luca really wished he had the Jaguar with him for this occasion because it would have been perfect to arrive in.

Mrs. Hawthorne had promised it would be brand new, fresh in the leather for him to tear into, and that it would arrive this December. Since today was the 12th—the only remarkable day until Christmas on the 25th—Luca could only guess he'd be receiving it as a Christmas gift.

Legends, rising stars, and key figures from across the world poured into The Dorchester for the red carpet. Luca arrived with his family—both his mother and sister—and made his way onto the red carpet, walking right behind De Klerk.

"Give us a big smile!" one of the photographers called out without hesitation as soon as Luca stepped onto the red carpet.

The flashing lights from the caras imdiately engulfed him, making it nearly impossible to see who was even speaking to him.

"Turn slightly—yes, just like that! Perfect!"

"One more! Look towards the lights—yes, right there!"

Luca walked past the lights and onto the next booth, where an interviewer was waiting. She was quick but made sure to comnd his suit before beginning.

"Next season is less than four months away, Luca. Do you see yourself becoming an F1 driver within that ti?"

Luca answered simply and flatly, knowing how important it was to keep the dia from twisting his words into exaggerated headlines. "We'll see how things go."

The interviewer, expecting more, hesitated for a mont before asking her next question which was supposed to co out perfectly if he had answered the previous positively.

"And if you do make it, what will be your goal?"

"To be Formula 1 World Champion, of course."

"For just a season? Surely, you'd be aiming for more..."

Luca glanced at her. "What's the record?" Though he already knew the answer, he wanted to hear it from her.

"Seven World Championships—held by the late Silvio Maldonado," she replied.

"Then I'd like to surpass that and set a new record, I guess," he said humbly. That is everyone's dream.

With that, he accepted her handshake, offering a polite nod before turning away. He strode off to join Mrs. Rennick and Sophia, making his way toward the grand ballroom, where the guests were beginning to take their seats.

They searched for the perfect seats in the vast expanse of rows and columns.

The seating arrangent in the ballroom was very large, its sheer scale staggering when one calmly takes a good look around. After all, there were hundreds of guests attending what was going to be a crossover, so its large scale was understandable.

Round tables filled the place as expected of any event, and at the very front, a long elevated table was reserved for the FIA executives, racing legends, and key figures in motorsport.

Luca didn't need to search any further because beyond the elevated table were the first few rows specifically housed for the season's champions and their families which ant Luca's and Rodnick's families would sit alongside high-ranking team principals, and influential sponsors of the federation.

Luca fought away the thought that he and his family might seem out of place. Carefully, he led them to one of the tables, but before he could pull out the seats for his mother and Sophia, his eyes quickly caught a familiar figure in the room.

Mr. Grant!

Luca was delighted to see him. He had just realized that Mr. Grant was supposed to be present tonight, after all, he was set to receive a dal alongside Ms. Vallotton and either Mr. Ruben or Mr. Colt of Mr. Ruben was absent.

Luca wondered if Ms. Vallotton was already in the ballroom as well.

Turning to his mother, he told her he was going to see Mr. Grant and would bring him over to introduce everyone.

Luca walked across the ballroom, weaving through the growing cluster. He passed elegantly dressed guests who were already engaged in conversation, but abruptly paused when he passed them.

As he approached Mr. Grant, he noticed he was discussing with another team principal, but of a Formula 1 team—the team principal of Haddock Racing.

Luca's pace quickened slightly and Mr. Grant noticed a figure approaching his peripheral vision so he glanced to his right to see Luca approaching.

A hint of surprise flashed across his face before a smile took its place. "Luca! I was wondering when I'd run into you."

Luca finally approached, grinning from ear to ear. "I just realized you'd be here. It's great to see you, sir!" He saluted.

Mr. Grant chuckled. "Likewise," he said warmly, resisting the impulse to pull Luca into a hug. Instead, he turned slightly and gestured to the man standing beside him. He was a broad-shouldered, well-dressed figure with a firm stance.

"This is Mr. Bujas, Team Principal of Haddock Racing," Mr. Grant introduced. "And Mr. Bujas, this is Luca Rennick, Formula 2 World Champion." Explore new worlds at My Virtual Library Empire

Luca extended his hand, and Mr. Bujas accepted it with a strong grip. The man's presence was as commanding as his reputation, broad-chested, slightly round, but exuding the kind of authority that ca with leading a top racing team.

He looked like Chris in Luca's opinion. A taller, more respectable version.

Mr. Bujas didn't linger for long after Luca's arrival. He simply tapped Mr. Grant softly on the shoulder before pointing at where he'd seat, then left without another word.

Luca and Mr. Grant were left alone, and Luca rembered the other reason why he approached Mr. Grant. He glanced briefly over his shoulder toward his family. "I was actually hoping to introduce you to my mother, since you've seen my sister before. Would you mind coming over?" he asked Mr. Grant.

Mr. Grant nodded. "Of course. Lead the way."

Together, they made their way back to Luca's table, weaving through the vast seating arrangent.

As they neared their table, Luca's eyes drifted to the one beside it, reserved for Marcellus Rodnick and his family. It was almost fully occupied.

Seated there were an elderly woman, a younger woman, another young woman, a teenage boy, a man who looked to be in his early twenties, two little girls, and an infant cradled in the younger woman's arms.

Luca couldn't help but wonder if this was indeed Rodnick's family. His mind instinctively began piecing together how they might be related to the two-ti F1 champion.

His grandmother, mother, maybe his sister? Were the younger ones his nieces?

Curious, he let his gaze sweep across the ballroom, searching for Rodnick among the sea of distinguished guests. If his family was already seated, that ant he had arrived.

But the reigning champion was nowhere in sight, perhaps he was caught up with interviews or mingling elsewhere.

As Luca approached his table with Mr. Grant, he felt the quiet but unmistakable attention of Rodnick's family. Though none of them spoke, their expressions were warm, their eyes holding a certain admiration as they watched him move.

It was clear they recognized him, and though unspoken, their acknowledgnt carried a quiet respect.

Luca introduced Mr. Grant to his mother and his mother to Mr. Grant. Knowing they were of the sa generation, he expected them to naturally see eye to eye, and in fact, they did.

Shortly after, Ms. Vallotton arrived, searching for Mr. Grant. Soone directed her to Luca's table, where she found them.

Luca was delighted to see her and promptly introduced her to his mother as well.

"Well, I suppose I should congratulate you, Mrs. Rennick," she said smoothly, clasping Mrs. Rennick's hands in hers. "Your son is about to make quite the leap. Trampos won't be the sa without him."

Luca, who had taken a sip of water, nearly choked.

Mrs. Rennick was a graceful and sweet woman, so she offered a warm smile. "Oh, that's very kind of you to say. But I do believe Trampos will be just fine. Luca's just following any path that opens up."

Ms. Vallotton inclined her head slightly, as if she was in agreent.

Luca ended the conversation, escorting Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton back to their table before returning again. Now, he could finally sit and relax.

But before he could, he stopped in his tracks when he spotted Rodnick speaking to his mother. The two were engaged in conversation, but the mont they looked up at him, Luca didn't need to be told that he was clearly the subject of their discussion.

Rodnick, now two-ti F1 World Champion, stood beside Mrs. Rennick, who was seated. He had a hint of amusent in his eyes, his hands in his pockets.

"We were just talking about you, Luca," Rodnick said in a deep voice that cut through the soft noise of the ballroom.

Luca blinked and exhaled lightly, stepping forward. "I figured," he replied, shaking Rodnick's hand firmly. "I hope it was all good things."

"It definitely was," Rodnick said. "Congratulations on becoming F2 World Champion. Even I never had that title."

Luca dipped his head slightly in appreciation. "Thank you. And congrats to you as well."

Rodnick chuckled, shoving his hands back into his pockets as his shoulders bounced with the movent.

He had deep black hair, a neatly trimd stubble that definitely ant recent shaving, and earrings in both ears—very stylish yet far from looking feminine.

His lean figure and striking presence made him stand out, though Luca couldn't help but note their uncanny similarity in height.

Rodnick's eyes widened slightly as he suddenly rembered his manners. "Ah, right—I should introduce you to my family."

He turned toward the adjacent table where his relatives sat, all watching the exchange quietly.

Rodnick introduced the older woman as his mother, and the younger one who had striking familiar features with him, as his twin sister and the baby as hers.

Then the youngest lady turned out to be his girlfriend, very close with the family. The teenage boy was Rodnick's little brother, including the two little girls who were twins as well. The older boy turned out to be his girlfriend's brother, Rodnick's friend as well.

A full house in Luca's opinion.

Rodnick clapped Luca lightly on the back. "Now, let's see if you survive the rest of the night without getting mobbed," he said.

Luca chuckled as he finally settled into his seat, exhaling as if he'd just completed a lap around a circuit.

eting Marcellus Rodnick, Jackson Racing's star and a two-ti F1 champion, definitely felt like the first step toward getting mobbed tonight. It was only a matter of ti before the spotlight turned his way.

And look at that front row steadily filling up with millionaires he'd never seen before in his life. These were powerful figures whose firms and companies bankrolled the FIA, sponsoring the FIA with their respective firms and companies. Their wealth was staggering, completely beyond comprehension.

Letting his blood circulation settle, Luca glanced at Sophia, who was lost in her phone, while his mother continued taking in the grand spectacle of the evening.

Then, his eyes wandered to the stage, where a table draped in black cloth stood at the far right. Beneath the fabric, the distinct bulges of the awards were barely concealed, and he guessed they'd be around twenty in number.

To busy himself as the place filled to capacity, Luca recalled again every single award to be given and gauged his chances of leaving the event with more than one.

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