The encounter with Mrs. Hawthorne and her team unfolded seamlessly. Luca, along with Sara and Mallow, arrived at an imposing, manor-like building nestled in the tranquil countryside of Birmingham. There, discussions with the vibrant, aged lady and her representatives took place. Mrs. Hawthorne outlined her ambitions with precision. She intended to introduce the Hawthorne na into Formula racing, beginning with the F2 series and expanding swiftly. The plan was to make calculated inroads that would bolster and spread her brand's influence gradually yet radically. And if Luca ascended to F1, it would only amplify her chances of success.
The offer she presented was exceptional, eclipsing even that of established sponsors like Fijee. For each podium finish, Luca would receive a $50,000 bonus, while a race victory would net him an additional $100,000. Finishing within the top five would secure him $500,000, and winning the championship would bring in a staggering $800,000. These bonuses alone surpassed what most firms could offer, making her proposal hard to refuse.
However, the deal was structured as a one-year contract—a calculated move on Mrs. Hawthorne's part to safeguard her investnt. She had no intention of risking her capital without guarantees, and the short-term nature of the agreent was designed to test Luca's potential. Mallow, unfazed by these terms, was brimming with enthusiasm. The prospect of securing such a lucrative deal had him practically vibrating with energy, and he made it clear through subtle gestures to Luca that he had no choice but to sign.
In return for these generous terms, Mrs. Hawthorne demanded that Luca build his entire career profile around the Hawthorne brand. This went beyond rely placing logos on his car or race suit. It ant full alignnt with her vision—endorsents, exclusive interviews, and public appearances that would tether his rising stardom directly to the Hawthorne na. It was more than a sponsorship, but more like an alliance that required Luca to align his image with Hawthorne's vision.
Even minor details, like exclusively using the Airphone—a phone brand in which Hawthorne held a significant stake—were part of the agreent. It was a bold move on Mrs. Hawthorne's part, and one that she was determined to make work to her advantage.
Luca, understanding the stakes and the opportunity before him, agreed to the terms.
The first phase of the contract was presented on the second day, and Luca signed without hesitation. The second phase, however, was to be revealed at a later date, pending thorough reviews of each clause and condition by all parties involved. The agreent's complexity—especially the specifics surrounding race finishes and associated bonuses—demanded transparency. To ensure compliance and prevent future complications, Mrs. Hawthorne's team would also need to formally inform the Federation about the deal with one of their feeder series drivers.
Though Mrs. Hawthorne hadn't offered a base salary, Luca couldn't help but calculate the potential earnings if he managed to win all six remaining Featured Race Grands Prix. He would be swimming in millions.
After the first day of etings, while on transit through Birmingham, sothing caught Luca's eye. Through the car window, he caught a glimpse of the Grey-Husson Academy. His curiosity piqued, he turned to Mallow.
"How's the place doing now?" Luca asked, wondering if Mallow knew anything about the academy's current state or if there had been any new intakes.
Mallow's response ca with a smug chuckle, as though he relished the news. "Oh, you haven't heard? They're shutting it down," he replied with another chuckle, clearly proud of himself for being the perpetuator behind that.
Luca blinked in surprise. "Shutting down?"
"Yeah. The place is a joke—E-level facilities, subpar activities. The Federation pulled their license. And old man Schafer? He's done with running any academy, or any Federation establishnt for that matter," Mallow explained.
"What?!" Luca exclaid, stunned by the revelation about the turn of events.
"Oh, yeah," Mallow said with a casual shrug. "They're even investigating embezzlent of funds. Who thinks he's guilty?" He raised a hand. "I do."
Luca fell silent, his mind racing. That's bad, he thought, recalling his experiences there. For all its flaws, the academy had been a part of his journey. To see it fall like this left him unsettled.
It was these cacophony of thoughts that led Luca to hail a cab the second day and head to the grandeur facility. He instructed the cab driver to stop at the beginning of the long, tree-lined road leading up to the academy. The air was crisp and tinged with a faint earthy scent, and Luca, caught in a mix of nostalgia and unease, chose to walk the rest of the way.
As he approached the entrance, he realized the gate was wide open, an unusual sight for a place that had once been tightly secured. Quickening his pace, he stepped into the grandeur academy. To his surprise, it wasn't as eerily quiet as it had been in his mory. While the astonishing greenery and architectural exquisiteness remained, the serene atmosphere had been replaced by a flurry of activity. People in navy blue bustled about, moving with purpose, and their movents created a sense of urgency as if they were tearing the place down.
Luca stood near the open fountain, unnoticed amidst the commotion. He stared in awe at the trucks and vans stationed around the property as equipnts and boxes were loaded into them.
Conversations overlapped the scene Luca was witnessing, furniture, stacks of files and computer systems being carried out. The Federation's signage and plaques were removed. Two n even passed him with an extrely long ladder. Luca's best guess was that they were removing the G banner outside.
Wow. So, it is true.
Amidst the chaos, his gaze locked onto soone stepping out of the main building, weaving through workers and casting sharp, hateful looks. As she stepped into the open, her eyes instantly landed on Luca standing by the fountain, and they widened in surprise.
Wow. Isabella? What's she doing here? Straightening up instinctively, he noticed her glance around quickly. Without hesitation, she began making her way toward him.
Without preamble, Isabella demanded to know why he was there. "And you've been ignoring my ssages," she added, her tone barely masking her frustration.
Luca's mind raced. He was certain he'd sent the last ssage, but now he wondered if he had missed her reply. According to her, he hadn't. "It's just been work. I'll respond when I get ho."
"Don't bother," she said, her gaze flicking around the chaotic scene. "Since you're here, I might as well tell you everything in person."
Feigning ignorance about the situation, Luca let her explain the full story of what was happening at Grey-Husson's. He wanted every detail, just in case Mallow had left anything out. Isabella also revealed that she hadn't made it to the college she had aid for and had found herself back in England to comfort her grieving father, who had recently lost his license.
With nothing to say, Luca only put in a "sorry." His mind churned with ideas about what to do next as she stood there, arms folded, looking around while still facing him. All his ideas played out in his mind and resulted in horrible outcos.
He cursed inwardly, deciding to push past his hesitation.
"I could take you out on a date if that would cheer you up," he blurted, biting his tongue.
Isabella's lips pressed together as she tried to suppress a smile, her cheeks flushing red. Unlike Luca, she couldn't mask her emotions so easily. "I can't believe YOU are asking out," she said slowly, drawing out the words.
Luca waited patiently for a real reply.
"I'd love to."
"That's great."
"But my father won't approve."
Luca frowned, swallowing hard. He wondered why there'd have to be 'buts'. "Why?" he asked calmly.
"He's made it clear that I can't date until I'm 17, maybe even 18," Isabella admitted, avoiding his gaze as she looked toward the dismantled academy.
Luca's insides twisted with sudden confusion and disbelief. What kind of—
"I'll be 17 in July," she added.
This is mid-May. Two months away. Luca's shoulders eased as the realization set in, and he nodded. "I'll wait then," he said, his gaze shifting just in ti to catch an unpleased Mr. Schafer erging from the sa building Isabella had co out of.
Just as Isabella had t Luca's gaze earlier, Mr. Schafer's eyes imdiately locked onto him. After a brief pause, they shifted to Isabella's back, his expression unreadable but clearly not welcoming.
Luca instinctively thought about raising a hand in greeting but hesitated, sensing it might only aggravate the man further. Instead, he quickly wrapped up the conversation, telling Isabella to send his regards to the man. Afterwards, he turned to leave, strolling out of the facility monts later. He glanced back a few tis at her and the swirling chaos around the academy as the dismantling continued while he retraced his steps.
Walking the sa long road, Luca flagged down a cab and headed back to the hotel where he, Mallow, and Sara had been staying in Birmingham.
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