Luca Donatello is a world champion. He achieved this with Elektra Motorsports about twelve years ago and is pretty much their poster boy and God. I admire what he did for F1, but I don’t really know that much about him.
All I know is that he’s a former Italian F1 driver who hasn’t been seen for some time. After his retirement, he decided to quit all social media and completely go off the grid. I think he also got married to some model afterwards. They went on their honeymoon, and no one has heard from him since.
“I think it’s an exciting change for Elektra as a team in general. With him, they may even have a chance to advance further. The change was a smart move on Elektra’s part and if I were to be selected for the 2022 Formula One cycle I would be honored to drive under his management.” I smile, the kind of smile that is genuinely forced.
“Ok, one last question for the champion. If you were to become a Formula One driver next year, do you think you are fully ready for that responsibility?”
“I think that I work my ass off every single day to stay in this sport. If I were to have the opportunity to advance my career by going into F1 next year, I would not only give my blood, sweat, and tears to the team, I would also give them my every thought. If they don’t pick me, well, that’s their loss. They will never find a driver as dedicated as me. I have the drive, I have the fight, and most importantly, I have the ability to deliver the results that are needed. So, in that aspect, yes, I know that I am ready,” I answer.
“Thank you, Alejandra, and congratulations on your win!” I give him a nod and a short “thank you”.
“Now onto our second and third place winners, Elijah and Oliver.”
That was the longest press conference of my life.
After asking Oliver and Elijah about their podium standings, he then proceeded to let the other reporters ask questions. It went on for an hour and a half.
AN HOUR AND A FUCKING HALF!
Who wants to watch an hour and a half press conference asking the same questions over and over again?
Thankfully, it’s over and I can’t wait to get on the next flight back to Mexico City.
I want to see my family.
They planned to come, but my dad had a last-minute business deal.
I miss them, but I understand.
They don’t want their business close to my career, that much I am thankful for.
Exiting the paddock after endless publicity statements and promotions for social media, I see a figure standing ahead of me. His outline right in front of my training room. His arms are crossed and there are men flanked behind him. In an Armani suit and reflective glasses, I just know it’s him by his signature look. That intimidating and powerful aura is very much evident to anyone in his vicinity.
“León, what are you doing here?!” I squeal, running towards my brother.
He turns around to face me, a smile adorning his features. I jump into his arms, hugging him as tightly as possible.
“¿Tú crees que me perdería este momento, princesa?”
His brotherly admiration that I adore so much hits me, making me warm inside. I return his tight hold. His love for me taking me full force.
“I thought you had work?” My eyebrow raised in question.
“You don’t have to worry. I have been here since yesterday. I wanted to surprise you before the race, but I didn’t want to distract you. I am so proud of you, princesa,” he says, his accent way thicker than mine.
I want to cry. I’m proud of myself too, but coming from León, it means so much more. This man has protected me through everything, and I am forever grateful.El es mi hermano, sangre de mi sangre.
My dad always says that León loves me more than anyone else in the family. Finally setting my eyes on León’s men behind him, I frown.
“Hello Sebastián.” I pause then turn to his counterpart “Lucero,” I acknowledge them with a look, annoyance visible in my tone. They are definitely not my favorite people, recalling how we first met when we were young.
The antics of those annoying sexually deviant little boys still in my mind.
Being the sons of Los Reyes del Muerte de Sinaloa, of course they were deviant. They had to be. Inevitably, they were passed down to my brother within the bond of the cartel. León, being the heir to the Castillo name. For years, Los Castillos have owned Sinaloa. When the drug shortage happened in the sixties, my family was the first to jump on to the wave, resulting in us becoming the biggest cartel in all of Mexico. This information is unknown to most which allows my brother to be seen as a businessman, helping him blend into society effortlessly.
León will be bearing the weight of an empire on his shoulders. He will own Mexico in its entirety and become extremely powerful. I’m frightened for him; He must sell his soul in return for his life.
“How long are you here for?” I question, laying back on the couch after we walk through the door to my training room. I start to take my shoes off and massage my toes, the ache spreading through my whole foot.