Chapter 4: The House of Cards
The lounge doors opened again, and in walked Preston, Vanessa’s fiancé. He was dressed in his racing suit, beaming with the arrogance of a man who thought he had just secured a championship-winning contract.
"Vanessa, darling!" he called out, striding across the room. "The deal is done! Sterling’s company is backing us. We’re going to be legends."
He stopped dead when he saw Vanessa’s face. She was ghost-white, her hand gripping the back of a velvet chair as if she were about to collapse. He then looked at the Racing Director, and finally, at the man standing beside him—the man he had spent the last hour complaining about to his pit crew, calling him an "overpaid laborer."
Preston’s smile died. He looked from Julian to the folder, and the horrifying truth of the situation settled over him like a shroud.
"Julian," Preston stammered, his voice cracking. "I... I didn't know you were here."
"Obviously," Julian replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "Preston, you’re an excellent driver on the track. But off the track, you seem to have a penchant for surrounding yourself with people who value status over substance. I don't invest in liabilities."
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"You can't fire me!" Preston shouted, his desperation overcoming his fear. "I’m the face of this league!"
"You were," Julian corrected, closing the folder. "Security, please escort these two out. They aren't on the guest list for the closing ceremony."
