Click.
Mr. Chen flicked his lighter, taking a deep drag on his cigarette. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and turned to Arthur. "Mr. Vance, 45.101. Do you have any idea what that number means?"
"Mr. Chen, the smoke," Arthur said, gesturing discreetly toward his son.
"Oh! Sorry, sorry."
Mr. Chen dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his heel. He and Arthur had shared plenty of smokes and drinks during their negotiations, so he'd forgotten the boy was there.
"Thanks." Arthur rested a hand on Liam's head. "I really don't know much about the technical side. Surely you have records faster than that?"
"That's where you're wrong. Faster times come from the senior classes—shifters, 125cc TAGs. The kart I just gave him is a Cadet class chassis with a restricted engine. It's built for safety, not speed."
Mr. Chen racked his brain, recalling the stats from the regional finals held a few years back.
If memory served, the winner of the Cadet class last season was lapping in the high 46s. A 45-flat was... it was absurd.
He looked at Liam again, his expression grave. "I rarely hype up the kids who come through here, Mr. Vance. But your son? He feels different. If that really was his first time in a kart..."
Before Arthur could reply, a piercing wail erupted from the pit lane.
"Waaaaah!!!"
Louise had taken off her helmet and was sobbing uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her porcelain-white face like broken strings of pearls. She rubbed her eyes furiously, stomping toward them.
When she saw Liam, the volume doubled. She pointed an accusatory finger at him.
"Cheat! Cheat! You cheat!"
Liam looked at her calmly. In English, he replied with three words.
"Americans. Just better."
He understood, Arthur thought, a jolt of realization hitting him. My gut was right. The kid speaks English.
"Louise! Stop making a scene. You should be apologizing to Liam!" Martina's stern voice cut through the tantrum. She wasn't about to coddle her daughter just because she lost.
"No!" Louise practically shrieked.
"You need to take responsibility for your mistakes. It doesn't matter how angry you are—you challenged him, and you provoked him," Martina continued, her tone unyielding. She had heard Liam's retort and understood perfectly: he was answering Louise's earlier insult about Americans being spineless.
"Alright, alright. Louise didn't mean any harm. Let's leave it in the past," Arthur stepped in, trying to play peacemaker.
"He definitely isn't a rookie! He's a liar!" Louise screamed, her face flushing red.
Liam felt his head throbbing. The high-pitched screeching was grating on his nerves. He decided that as the mental adult in the room, he should be the one to de-escalate.
"Okay, okay! So sorry," Liam said, raising his hands in mock surrender.
The moment he spoke, the little girl's sobbing hiccuped to a halt.
Martina walked over, bending down to look Liam in the eye. Her English was crisp, carrying a distinct Italian lilt. "Liam, you don't need to apologize when you haven't done anything wrong."
"I know. But I just want her to stop crying. If an apology fixes the problem, isn't that a good deal? Besides..." Liam scratched his head, glancing at the blonde woman. "You're... well, you know."
He trailed off. He couldn't exactly say, 'You're my dad's girlfriend, so I don't want to make things awkward.' If they hadn't had "The Talk" yet, he didn't want to be the one to out them.
A flicker of surprise crossed Martina's eyes. The boy was frighteningly perceptive. She smiled warmly, patting his shoulder. "You are very mature, Liam. Your father is lucky to have a son like you."
She stood up and looked at Louise. As expected, her own child had a long way to go to catch up in maturity.
Though, she thought with a private smile, soon enough, they might both be 'my' children.
"Mom! What did he say to you?" Louise wiped the tear tracks from her cheeks, tugging on Martina's sleeve.
"Answer my question first. Do you recognize your mistake?" Martina asked.
Louise wanted to be stubborn, but her curiosity about what her mother and Liam had discussed outweighed her pride.
She nodded, sniffing. "I'm sorry. I was being unreasonable. And... I apologize for being rude earlier."
"Good. As long as you understand."
"I apologized! Now tell me, what did you guys say?"
"Of course. I told him he didn't need to apologize if he wasn't wrong. And he said..." Martina paused for dramatic effect.
"What? What did he say?" Louise's eyes widened.
"He said that big brothers have to go easy on their little sisters," Martina said with a mischievous smile.
"Eh?!" Louise's eyes nearly popped out of her head.
Question mark.
A massive, invisible question mark materialized over Liam's head.
I definitely did not say that.
"Ahem. Anyway, Mr. Vance," Mr. Chen interrupted, seizing the lull in the drama. "Have you ever thought about letting Liam go pro?"
"That depends on him. And honestly, one lap doesn't prove he's a prodigy." Arthur was hesitant. He didn't love the idea.
Racing drivers were athletes who danced with the Reaper. It was dangerous. But, as he had promised himself, he wouldn't force his will on the boy.
"Liam, what do you think? Want to be a professional driver? I think you've got real potential!"
Mr. Chen was beaming. He trusted his eyes. Liam had talent, yes, but more importantly—the Vance family had money.
You couldn't race without money.
Liam lowered his gaze.
Go back to the track?
Now that he was standing at the crossroads again, he hesitated.
"If you're not sure, you could try running a season in the SKUSA regional series," Mr. Chen suggested. "See how he does. If the results are good, you can decide then."
"I think it's worth a try," Martina chimed in. "That lap was genuinely shocking. One season will reveal if it's luck or talent."
Hearing Martina—an executive from Ferrari's commercial division—endorse his son made Arthur pause. Was Liam really that good? Good enough to catch the eye of Maranello?
"Son, what do you think?" Arthur asked.
"If you become a top-tier driver, it would be a huge asset to your father's business, you know," Martina whispered, leaning in slightly so only the Vances could hear.
Arthur frowned, about to tell her not to pressure him, when his son's voice cut through the air.
"I'll race."
"Liam?"
"I want to race," Liam said, keeping his head down.
He had been balancing on the edge of the decision, but Martina's words pushed him over.
His father had given him everything. If racing could help his father's legacy, then it wasn't just for himself anymore. It was a way to pay him back.
He would return to the grid.
"Great! We'll get your license sorted before April. I'll cover the entry fees for the season!" Mr. Chen clapped his hands, delighted.
"No, no, Mr. Chen, that's too generous," Arthur waved his hand.
"Hey! Mr. Vance, consider it an investment, alright?" Mr. Chen reached for his pocket to grab a cigarette out of habit, saw the kids, and awkwardly shoved his hand back in.
"Let's go upstairs and talk details," Arthur said, clapping his hands. "We got so sidetracked I almost forgot we're here for a merger."
"No problem! Right this way."