Ahem, cough, cough!
Marchionne choked on his own saliva. This was a titan of industry, a man who had single-handedly saved the Fiat Group, and yet here he was, coughing until his face was red, struggling to catch his breath.
Beside him, Todt's eyes were brimming with unconcealed glee. He was thoroughly enjoying the show.
"Cough..." Marchionne finally recovered, shooting Todt a death glare before turning back to the young man. "Do you have any idea what you're saying?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.
Kai's expression was calm. "Yes, I do."
"But, Mr. Marchionne, Formula racing is a rich man's game. It's not for me." He paused. "I'm better suited for the streets."
"Mr. Todt has probably already told you. The only reason I was willing to come to Maranello was because…"
The words caught in Marchionne's throat, his patience wearing thin. "Yes, yes, I know, you didn't come willingly. But since when did a trial with Ferrari become so cheap?"
He glared at Kai. "Eight thousand euros? That's a bargain. You should have asked for at least twenty thousand."
Kai immediately turned to Todt with an innocent expression.
Todt, who had been happily watching the drama from the sidelines, suddenly found himself in the line of fire. He cleared his throat. "A deal is a deal. We've reached an agreement and fulfilled it. We can't go back on it now."
Kai didn't press the issue. He just held up his hands and shrugged. "In any case, you always have to try, right?" He then turned back to Marchionne, bringing the conversation back on track. "This is what I mean. Every step in Formula racing is paved with money. It's not for me."
He wasn't wrong.
But the crucial point was that, even when faced with an offer from the Ferrari Driver Academy, Kai remained perfectly clear-headed and calm, without a hint of hesitation.
That level of resolve was truly remarkable.
Marchionne noticed it, and his admiration for the young man only grew. He took a moment to compose himself. "What if… the academy covered all your expenses?"
Monfardini's eyes darted toward Marchionne, but he held his tongue.
Within junior racing academies—Ferrari, Red Bull, Renault, Mercedes, McLaren, and so on—while the specific details might vary, the general framework was the same. Their drivers fell into one of three categories.
First, fully funded by the academy. The academy pays for all of the driver's training, competition, and living expenses. This includes, but is not limited to, simulator time, on-track testing, coaching, and all the equipment and entry fees for formula racing. This is reserved for only the most elite prospects who are tied to the academy's long-term strategy. This level of sponsorship is typically valued at around one to one-and-a-half million euros per year. Ferrari's Charles Leclerc and Red Bull's Max Verstappen fell into this category.
Second, partially funded by the academy, supplemented by the driver's own sponsors. The academy covers some training costs, while the driver is responsible for their own competition and living expenses. The academy might also charge the driver an "affiliation fee" of fifty to one hundred thousand euros to cover certain costs. In this scenario, drivers often need to raise between five hundred thousand and one million euros in sponsorship money each year just to continue their training. It's a flexible arrangement; if a driver performs well in F2 or F3, the academy might increase its support. Conversely, if a driver fails to get results, it's not uncommon for them to run themselves ragged trying to secure funding to keep their career alive. At Ferrari, Alesi was in this category. At Red Bull, so was Pierre Gasly, with the academy and his sponsors splitting the costs.
Third, self-funded. The academy simply provides the training platform, and the driver is responsible for all, or the vast majority, of the costs. This is a common arrangement throughout the junior formulas. In fact, just getting a trial is difficult. Drivers often have to pay between twenty and fifty thousand euros for a single test session, and only if they pass do they earn the opportunity to pay their own way into the academy.
That was why Marchionne had just said Kai should have demanded twenty thousand euros from Todt. In reality, Ferrari very rarely accepted self-proposed trials, even if offered money. On the rare occasion they made an exception, a single trial could cost up to one hundred thousand euros. Antonio Fuoco, currently at the Ferrari academy, was such a case. He had paid for his own trial and training, and after a year of excellent performances in 2016, the academy was set to move him to the second sponsorship model for the following year.
Overall, the first and third categories were relatively rare. The most common model in the entire junior formula system was the second one—a mutual partnership. The academy invests in the driver, and the driver, through the academy, invests in their own future, hoping for a win-win outcome.
Monfardini understood Kai's talent, but the tests were incomplete, and there were still many uncertainties. For Marchionne to immediately offer a full scholarship was a stunning display of commitment. His own heart began to pound faster, as if he were witnessing history.
What was even more surprising, however, was that Kai hesitated.
Kai! Actually! Hesitated!
Monfardini held his breath.
Marchionne also noticed the hesitation. Now, it was his turn to be calm, curious to see how Kai would react.
Kai had to admit, he was tempted. Free race training? It was a dream come true.
But when he really thought about it, it wasn't a good deal. Academy drivers had no income. They looked glamorous on the outside, but in reality, they were all broke. In the world of Formula racing, until you made it to F1, you were poor.
Kai looked up at Marchionne. "If I join the academy, does that mean I can't do any more street racing?"
Marchionne raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Why? At your level, is there still a sense of accomplishment in beating those guys?"
Kai shrugged. "There is when I see the cash."
Marchionne was speechless.
Todt could no longer contain himself. It was a rare sight to see his old friend lose the upper hand in a negotiation. "Hahaha!" he roared with laughter, mercilessly.
Even Marchionne couldn't help but crack a smile. He took a deep breath. Since they'd come this far, he might as well go all in. "You won't need the streets. Right here in the academy. Simulator races, on-track practice sessions… every time you win… two thousand euros."
"I know it's not the fast money you get from street racing. But you are welcome to challenge every single one of our drivers."
Kai's eyes lit up.
Not only was it safer than the streets, but he would also get to use the simulators, constantly exploring the limits of the car and himself. This was a good deal. The prize money per race might be smaller, but there was no limit on the number of races, no time constraints. Wasn't this essentially an unlimited ATM?
And the best part? This time, he would be fleecing the fat Ferrari sheep!
Marchionne, a master of reading people, caught the change in Kai's expression, a look of deep satisfaction spreading across his own face.
See? he thought. I've handled negotiations worth billions. How could I not manage a seventeen-year-old kid?
"Let's get the contract details sorted out and prepare for the signing," Marchionne said with an easy, satisfied smile.
But then he noticed that the smile on Kai's face had frozen, replaced by a look of inner conflict. An image of his mother slowly appeared in his mind.
That was the real problem.
"...But what about my final exams?"