My Formula 1 System-Chapter 198 A Team And A Home. 2

After Luca invited everyone in through the gate,as per their request, he gave them a short tour around the house, starting with the impressive and tasteful frontyard which they had just trampled upon.

The pathway, snaked from the gate to the garage intrigued Colt the most for some reason. He said he liked how it gave the green grass a nice, balanced shape, and how the oak trees even provided a natural parking spot for any extra vehicle that needed to come in.

Mr. Grant liked Luca's garden the most, the pergola-covered seating area and the fountain. He made a nice remark about it being a very nice place for summer memories to be reminisced.

Moritz and McCauley were just stunned about the framework itself, the entire building and its tasty white paint. They advised Luca to begin looking for cleaners as soon as possible, saying if he didn't, he'd become a wizard in a haunted, white-house-turned-gray.

Luca laughed the joke out, asking them inside as he opened the main door.

He led them to the spacious living room, inviting them to take seats on the unique furniture.

Instantly, Mr. Grant recognized every decor and he put two and two together, realizing Luca was under an umbrella, a very wealthy one at that.

The kind of decor and ornamentation Hawthornes used were very special and unique, but definitely not ostentatious. It had this essence of respected elegance and wealth, whereas, many empires make the mistake of showiness and vaunt in their products and attires.

"I knew I'd be a host today," Luca said as he offered to get everyone drinks.

Updat𝓮d from frёewebnoѵēl.com.

"You sure you have anything in your fridge but Fijee cans stacked from bottom to top? Ha!" McCauley joked and everyone laughed. "You got beer?"

"Of course," Luca replied.

Although he doesn't drink them as all alcohol intake was reserved for podium victories, Luca still had varieties of drinks at home reserved for visitors.

After all, having such a house like this would attract visitors. But in calculation on Luca's part, his guest count ever since he moved in had been quite... small.

Who was he going to invite either way?

"Beer," McCauley said.

"Stout," Moritz said.

"Wine," Colt said with his legs crossed.

Everyone turned to Mr. Grant, who had picked up the newspaper Luca left on a side table and was already looking into it. "I'll take a can of malt, Luca," Mr. Grant said.

Luca nodded and clapped his hands. He turned on the TV and tossed the remote to McCauley before he left the living room.

Mr. Grant asked McCauley to reduce the volume of the TV and McCauley obeyed without hesitation. He and Moritz were invested with what they were watching, while Colt entertained himself with his phone.

Luca returned a few minutes later, with a tray in hand, neatly arranging the drinks. He set them down on the coffee table, careful to match the right drink to the right person.

"Stout for the man who's always been at the other end of my radio," Luca said, placing the glass down in front of Moritz with a small smile.

"Beer for the man who makes my pits as fast as lightning," he added, handing over a cold bottle.

"Aye," McCauley responded and grabbed the bottle.

"Wine for Colt, the man who says what my car can't say," Luca proclaimed as he poured a generous glass of red into the crystal tumbler before placing it in Colt's hand.

"It's my honor," Colt said with a nod.

"And your malt, dear gaffer, we're at the top of the standings because of you," Luca said, offering the can to Mr. Grant with the most curt bow he could execute.

Mr. Grant smiled and accepted the can.

Luca picked up his sparkling water, scanned the room, and found a spot on the sofa to relax in. Just as he was about to settle in, McCauley raised his bottle. "Let's make a toast!"

"To what?" Colt asked, raising an eyebrow.

"To Luca, of course," McCauley said with a grin.

"What's there to toast? My man's on a list he shouldn't be on," Colt said.

McCauley shrugged, determined to push forward with the toast. "Alright, let's toast to Luca Rennick, the reckless fucki—"

"Don't say it," Luca interrupted, shaking his head.

McCauley and Moritz burst into laughter. "Okay, okay. Let's toast to Luca Rennick, currently the best driver in Formula 2, probably the best this division has ever seen, and the best this team has ever had. To Luca!" McCauley declared.

"Cheers," everyone echoed softly, each taking a sip.

Luca sunk into his sofa and leaned back, letting the atmosphere settle in as the TV hummed in the background.

He was still in his tracksuit and he needed to take a bath, but he knew they'd have to leave before he did that.

After a few minutes, Mr. Grant stood up and asked Luca to show him around the house. Luca, eager to impress Mr. Grant, smiled and nodded, leading the way.

He first guided Mr. Grant through the hallway, showcasing the minimalist art on the walls that was given to him as a token by the previous owners. He also showcased the large windows that bathed the rooms in natural light. They passed the sleek, neat kitchen, which had a modern yet cozy feel.

Upstairs, Luca pointed out the guest rooms, the gym and a second living room, each with its own view. Mr. Grant made a fine remark about the need for Luca having a beautiful personal living room like that with shelves full of books.

They finally made their way to the fourth balcony, where Luca paused, gesturing to the serene greenery that stretched between the neighboring homes, offering a peaceful, secluded view.

Mr. Grant leaned on the balcony rail, squinting slightly as he took in the view. "You really like this property. I can see that."

Luca smiled. "It's my first property. Everyone loves their first things."

"Would you leave it here in Germany or sell it?" Mr. Grant asked, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

"Pardon?" Luca asked, briefly distracted by the question.

Mr. Grant turned to face him. "There's no German F1 team, you know that?"

Luca nodded. "I... do."

Mr. Grant returned the nod and turned back to look at the greenery below. "So, when you make it to F1, you'd likely have to sell it or just leave it behind."

Luca shrugged, scratching the back of his head. "I guess so. I've thought about it."

Mr. Grant paused, took a deep breath, and turned to face Luca directly. "When do you want to move to Formula 1, Luca?" His voice was serious, almost urgent.

"Soon enough," Luca replied.

"How soon?"

Luca opened his mouth to answer, but his mind worked faster than his mouth could speak. He studied Mr. Grant's face, looking for something deeper beneath the stern, intimidating exterior that he knew so well.

It was still Mr. Grant—gruff and unreadable—but Luca noticed something more: a sense of plea, hope, and even anticipation behind the tough facade.

Luca blinked once, taking a deep breath as his mind quickly processed everything just like a formula driver he was. He understood what was happening now. There was no mistaking it. Mr. Grant's words weren't just about timing or logistics—they were about something deeper. Something that couldn't be ignored.

"As soon as possible," Luca answered, his voice steady. "It's in my power, and it's also not in my power at the same time, sir. As soon as possible."

Mr. Grant sighed heavily and turned away, leaning on the rail again as his eyes scanned the distant horizon. The quiet hung in the air, an oppressive silence that neither of them broke. Luca didn't want to make things awkward by leaving or standing there in silence. Instead, he joined Mr. Grant in quietly observing the cloudy sky and the birds flying by in the distance.

But inside Luca's mind, there was no silence. It buzzed with thoughts and realizations. He knew exactly what was going on.

Trampos was afraid.

It wasn't just the team's uncertainty about the future, but their fear of losing him to Formula 1. Luca could feel it—the unspoken worry that they might not be able to keep him much longer.

And this conversation, this moment they were sharing right now by giving him a ride and hanging over, was an attempt to strengthen their bond with him. They were trying, without saying a word, to anchor him, to make him feel that he was needed and that they could persuade him to stay, even if just for another year.

He could see it clearly. Mr. Grant, Colt, Moritz, and McCauley—each of them believed, deep down, that they could convince Luca to stay with Trampos. But what they didn't realize was that Luca's decision wasn't just a matter of persuasion.

If only they knew how deeply Luca had already bonded with them, how much he appreciated their camaraderie, and yet, how strong his desire was to compete in Formula 1.

The passion to reach the highest level of motorsport was already at its peak within him, as was his sense of loyalty to Trampos. Both emotions were in constant conflict, and the struggle weighed heavily on his heart.

Anyone who might think Luca was disturbed or frightened by the decision was mistaken. No, it wasn't fear that gripped him, it was the reality of what leaving his current team would mean.

He would step into a new world, filled with new expectations, but also with the risk of being looked down upon by the new team, possibly even hated by those he'd left behind.

Stay connected via novelbuddy

Luca wished they could understand how tough the dilemma was for him, but even at that he'd made up his mind.

He had served Trampos well already.