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whiteraven87 · 5 hours ago

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a thought that won’t let go… Titanic x Formula 1 Fanfiction? what do you think about this idea?

-> Main Masterlist

I’ve been fascinated by the Titanic tragedy for as long as I can remember. For years (yes, I am old), I’ve carried the idea of writing something set in that world — dramatic, emotional, and devastating.

Recently, a very specific vision has taken shape: a Titanic x Formula 1 crossover.

Working title: Fallen Time.

At its heart is forbidden love between Toto Wolff and Emilia Horner, the daughter of his longtime rival, Christian Horner. Their history is complicated — years ago, they loved the same woman. Now they meet again aboard the Titanic.

The catch? Emilia is engaged… to Lance Stroll.

Also on board:

George Russell, Emilia’s childhood friend who loves her in silence.

Lewis, Kimi Antonelli, Sebastian Vettel, Christian Horner, Charles, Carlos, Lando, Max (and Jos), Fernando, Esteban, Valtteri, Ollie, Lance, Lawrence Stroll and Niki Lauda — each carrying a past and purpose.

And then comes the iceberg. The chaos. The fight to survive.

I’ve already written a few chapters (bellow you can find some opening lines), but I’m unsure if there’s a point in finishing it if no one would read it — maybe it’s just a story for me.

So tell me:

Would anyone be interested in reading a Titanic x F1 fanfic like Fallen Time?

Any comment, like, or reblog would really help me decide whether to keep going or let it remain one of those stories that never see the light.

Since I love playing around with visuals, I had to create a little teaser for this idea — and here it is:

Throwing in the very start of the prologue too — maybe it’ll catch your interest. ��💭

Note: Emilia is arround 21 and Toto and Christian are in their early-mid 40s

Prologue

Titanic, April 10th, 1912 — Southampton, England – Day of Departure

The air above the harbor hung heavy with fog and the mournful wails of ship sirens. Amid the throng of onlookers, porters, and ladies with ivory-handled fans, a murmur of multilingual conversations and echoes of joy rose from those boarding the most magnificent ship in history — the Titanic. The greatest of the great. The richest of the rich. The most deluded in their belief that they were untouchable.

Chaos reigned on the pier, but she paid no attention to it. Emilia Maria Horner — with her pale, aristocratic face and eyes the color of clouded skies — was untouched by emotion. Clad in an expensive gown, laced tightly in a corset, she waited as the servants dealt with her trunks. She walked slowly, her chin raised, gaze fixed somewhere above the heads of the gathered crowd. She didn’t want anyone to see her eyes – too clear, too sad, too pure to belong in the world that surrounded her. Echoing in her head was the rustle of the wedding dress her fiancé’s mother, Lady Stroll had made her try on a week earlier. White lace, golden thread, a suffocating future.

Beside her walked her father – Lord Christian Horner – as upright as a sword, laughing heartily with Lawrence Stroll over the promising ventures between their families. Just behind followed his wife Geri – wrapped in a blood-red coat, her face a porcelain mask. Emilia hated that woman almost as much as she hated herself – for not being able to say no.

Emilia wasn’t listening to their conversation. She stopped. Something caught her eye. Or rather – someone.

A silvery automobile pulled up next to the first-class boarding area. From it stepped a man – very tall, striking – with a kind of elegance one cannot be taught. Dressed in a black coat with silk lapels and gloves made of leather so soft it looked like velvet. His profile was sharp – a straight nose, clenched jaw, and a steely, focused, merciless gaze. His very presence seemed to cut through the air.

Torger "Toto" Wolff. A man whose name meant nothing to the London aristocracy, but whose fortune was known to every banker from Vienna to New York. He had come here to expand his ventures in America. He never imagined he would encounter the daughter of the woman who had once broken his heart.

Behind him stepped another man – shorter, red-haired, with a scar on his cheek and a wry smile. There was something fox-like about him. He glanced at Emilia and nodded politely, but he wasn’t the one who held her attention.

It was him. The first one.

The one who said nothing — but whose gaze sliced through her like a blade.

For a heartbeat, their eyes met — she, wrapped in her false composure, and he — like a shadow from the past. And something inside her trembled. Something that had been buried deep for years.

"Who is that?" she whispered.

Geri frowned.

"Wolff. Torger Wolff. An Austrian industrialist. Made his fortune in steel, railways, and shipping. Nouveau riche. A widower. And unfortunately, the object of sighs for half the mothers with marriageable daughters."

"Just make sure he stays away from our table," Christian added with disdain. "That man is a parody of a gentleman. He once had the audacity to..." he broke off, as if recalling an insult long buried. "Never mind."

Emilia said nothing. Her heart beat faster, though she didn’t know why.

She didn’t yet know that this man had not only known her mother — but had loved her.

She didn’t know that in his coat pocket lay a folded portrait of the woman she thought belonged only to the past, to her mother.

She didn’t know that in the coming days, everything she thought she knew would shatter — with a crash louder than any nightmare she had ever dared imagine.

That the Titanic, the pinnacle of mankind’s triumph over nature, would become their prison.

That his gaze would be the only thing she could cling to when the night arrived.

The night when everything would go under.

Everything except love.

Forbidden. Final. Indestructible.

So what do you think? Should I continue with the whole story?

Truth is, this story already exists — it lives in my mind, and it’s begging to be set free.

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whiteraven87 · 1 day ago

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Fast Cars, Slow Burns, One Tall Austrian

> Writing this blog is cheaper than therapy — and comes with 100% more Toto Wolff <

You can find me on AO3 | Wattpad

Welcome!

This blog is a high-speed cocktail of emotions, fanfiction, and one tall Austrian man who apparently lives rent-free in my brain — and probably yours too, if you’re here.

I write Formula 1 fanfiction with a focus on character-driven drama, slow burns that could melt carbon fiber, and boardroom tension you definitely won’t see on race highlights. Expect morally grey choices, broken people, and Toto Wolff being the tall, terrifyingly composed emotional disaster we all can’t stop writing about.

There will be angst. There will be desire. There might be crying in the paddock.

And because I firmly believe storytelling isn’t just about words — I also try to make sure each story comes with its own visual vibe. I love creating graphics and playing with concepts to add that extra aesthetic layer to the narrative. Because sometimes, a picture does say what words dare not.

Grab your headset, adjust your strategy, and scroll carefully — this isn’t a safe space. It’s a Wolff trap.

Welcome to my corner of the paddock — make yourself at home.

-WhiteRaven87

(It’s not my fault he speaks Polish and heartbreak fluently)

✨✨✨

Fan Fiction Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist | slow burn | 218k | complete

The Flame that Never Fades | dark romance | 37k | complete

One-shot Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

Unspoken | melancholy | 6k | will be published on upcoming weekend

✨---✨---✨---✨---✨---✨

pairing: Toto Wolff x Miriell Joschke (Original Character, female F1 driver)

short summary: She was the first woman to conquer Formula 1 — fierce, untamed fire burning through every boundary. He was steel — forged in loss, hardened by silence, a man who lost everything he loved — until her fire reached him and made him feel alive again. Together, they are not just a love story. They are a force of nature. Truly unstoppable. A blaze that no storm could ever silence.

Series warnings: long fan fiction/series, slow burn, age gap (23 years), woman racing in F1, boss/driver relationship, difficult and painful past, death, angst, recovery after trauma and loss, love after loss, sexual tension, sex scenes, illness, pregnancy, memory lost.

full series word count: 218k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

✨---✨---✨---✨---✨---✨

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

summary: She's young, fiery, naive and blindly in love. He's older, married, powerful and dangerously irresistible. To him, she was an obsession, an escape, a desire. To her, he was everything. The Flame that Never Fades is a story of forbidden love in the world of Formula 1, born from lust… and ending in something that can never be undone.

warnings: age gap (28 years), forbidden romance, obsession, desire, dark romance, smut, infidelity, emotional manipulation, dominant older man, angst, longing, possessiveness, emotional pain, toxic dynamics, no promise for happy ending.

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

And more are to come!

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whiteraven87 · 3 days ago

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The Flame That Never Fades - Epilogue

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

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my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

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chapters until now:

Prologue 1: Middle of the Night 2: Frozen 3: Shameless 4: Lilith 5: Ruthless 6: The Machine 7: Ride 8: No One Like You 9: Sad Girl 10: Summetime Sadness 11: Un-break My Heart 12: Blue Jeans 13: Too Deep 14: Into Dust 15: Born to Die 16: Dark Paradise Epilogue

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Epilogue

Four years had passed.

Toto arrived with her early in the morning, long before the crowds filled the grandstands, before the paddock began to hum with the feverish energy of a race weekend.

The little girl had light hair that the wind tossed in every direction, and blue eyes — the very same blue as Victoria's.

Her name was Victoria Elina Lorenz-Wolff.

And she was the light that had illuminated Toto's life after everything else had faded into darkness.

"Is it here?" she asked softly, clutching his hand tightly in her small fingers.

"Yes," he replied with a bittersweet smile. "This is where your mother was unbeatable."

The girl looked out over the track, its asphalt shimmering in the early morning sun.

"Was she happy?" she asked.

"She was," Toto said, his voice thick with memory. "When she was driving... she was free. She was strong. And no one could hurt her then."

The girl nodded solemnly, a seriousness in her gaze far beyond her years — as though somewhere deep inside her lived a memory that was not entirely her own.

Toto knelt down and reached into his bag, pulling out an old medal — the one from Victoria's very first victory. With great care, he placed it around his daughter's neck.

"This belonged to your mama," he said softly. "And now it belongs to you."

"Will I race like mama someday?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder.

Toto looked at her with a soft, tender smile.

"If you want to," he answered. "But even if you don't, you will be unstoppable. Because you carry her heart inside you."

***

That evening, as they sat together in the stands, the golden sunset bathing the track in light, Victoria rested her head against her father's shoulder.

"Is Mama... watching us?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"All the time," Toto said without hesitation.

"Good," she whispered back. "Because I want her to know that I'm brave."

Toto tightened his embrace around her.

"I know she knows," he said quietly.

And for a fleeting moment, just for the briefest breath of time, it seemed as if somewhere far off — between the corners and the sighing of the wind — a familiar sound echoed through the air.

A laugh. Strong. Free. Wild.

The echo of a woman who had lived faster than anyone else.

And who had loved... with every last breath.

And though she was gone... the world still trembled with her presence.

Because some flames — the truest ones — are never meant to fade.

And she was the real fire, the real flame that still burned within him.

THE END

Author's Note: Dear Reader, You’ve reached the end of a story that was never meant to be easy — only to burn. The Flame That Never Fades is not a fairytale. It’s a love that came too late. A woman who loved too much. A man who realized too late what he had. No happy ending. But truth. And a flame that still burns. Thank you for loving Victoria. For understanding Toto, even when he failed. Not every love saves — but every love leaves a mark. If you still have the strength… stay. New stories are already waiting — different, but just as real.

Follow this blog if you don’t want to miss what comes next!

And If The Flame That Never Fades broke your heart…

And you’re in need of comfort — of healing, of softness, of love that chooses and stays — I invite you to read my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series.

It’s just as emotional. Just as intense.

But this time… the ending is kind.

A story of pain, growth, loyalty — and love that wins. ❤️

You’re always welcome there.

WhiteRaven87

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whiteraven87 · 3 days ago

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The Flame That Never Fades - chapter 16: Dark Paradise (16/16)

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

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my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

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chapters until now:

============================

author's note to this chapter:

Some stories aren’t meant to heal. Some just burn — quietly, endlessly. ...this is one of them... ...please forgive me... 💔 — WhiteRaven87

Chapter 16: Dark Paradise

Even though you're not here, won't move on And there's no remedy for memory, your face is like a melody Your soul is haunting me and telling me that everything is fine But I wish I was dead No one compares to you I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side There's no relief, I see you in my sleep And everybody's rushing me but I can feel you touching me There's no release, I feel you in my dreams Telling me I'm fine Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise No one compares to you I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side (…) But there's no you, except in my dreams tonight Dark Paradise - Lana Del Ray

The hospital room was steeped in twilight, broken only by the faint, rhythmic beeping of the monitor. The air smelled of sterility — of silence, of waiting. Everything in that room was cold. The light. The air. Even time itself.

Only her hand... only her hand remained warm.

Toto sat beside the bed, his face buried in his hands. He had not slept in two days. He had not eaten. He had not thought. He existed only for her — the woman who, for months, had been his sin, his salvation, his guilt, and his love.

And now she lay there. Still. Silent. Covered by a stark white sheet, with wires running beneath her fragile skin.

"Victoria... please. Come back," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Yell at me one more time. Tell me to go to hell. Tell me anything... just come back."

And then — as if, from across the great silence, she had somehow heard him — her fingers twitched, almost imperceptibly.

"Victoria?" he gasped, lurching forward.

Her eyelids fluttered, struggling to lift. Her gaze was unfocused, misted with pain and exhaustion — but when her eyes found him, she knew him. Recognition flooded her face, and though she no longer had the strength to cry, tears welled in her eyes.

"Toto..."

"I'm here," he breathed, clutching her hand. "I'm right here, my love. I never left."

Her lips trembled as she tried to speak, each breath a shallow, labored effort.

But her fingers clutched his hand with a desperate strength, as though she were fighting death itself to stay tethered to him.

"Our... daughter?" she whispered.

"She's alive," Toto said, his voice breaking into a thousand pieces.

"A little warrior, just like you. She's healthy. She's beautiful. She's perfect."

A faint, fragile smile ghosted across her lips — that familiar, bittersweet smile he knew so well, full of strength and unbearable fragility.

"Take care of her," she murmured, her voice barely more than breath. "Take care of her the way... I always wished someone would take care of me..."

Toto's body trembled as he leaned down, pressing his lips to her forehead, feeling the faint warmth still clinging to her skin.

"I love you, Vici... you can't even imagine how much," he whispered. "I never stopped. Not even when I ruined everything."

"I love you too..." she breathed. "Always... only you..."

And then — her breath hitched. Her body arched slightly, as though grappling with some invisible force. Her eyelids fluttered violently. Her lips parted once more — reaching for something — and then froze.

The monitor's steady beeping faltered, losing its rhythm.

"No... no, not now..." Toto cried out, screaming for the doctors.

Chaos erupted. Hands. Voices. The sharp, cold bark of orders.

The defibrillator charging. Silence. Another shock.

And then... the long, unwavering sound of a flatline.

"Time of death, 02:14," a voice announced with clinical detachment, cutting through the room with inhuman calmness.

Toto stood frozen, hollowed out from the inside.

Everything had extinguished — the world, hope, even breath itself.

He moved toward her, dropped to his knees at her bedside, and took her now-lifeless hand to his lips.

"You took everything with you," he whispered, the words cracking open his soul.

"Even my heart... Thank you... for every second. For her. For everything..."

In the nearby incubator, surrounded by sterile light and profound silence, their daughter slept - unaware that, at the moment she had entered the world, her mother had left it.

But love remained.

A love so vast, so powerful, that it would never be forgotten.

***

Victoria's house was silent.

Too silent — so quiet that the only sound filling the space was the soft, rhythmic breathing of the newborn nestled against his chest.

Their daughter's tiny hand clutched at his shirt with a fragile, unconscious grip, unaware of the enormity of what the world had taken from them.

Toto moved slowly through the house until he reached Victoria's bedroom — the very room he had no right to enter anymore, yet where his heart led him without hesitation.

Everything inside looked just as though she had only stepped out for a moment.

As if, at any second, she might return — her hair damp from a shower, her eyes flashing that disarming look that had once unraveled him so completely.

But she would not return. Not now. Not ever.

Carefully, he sat on the edge of the bed, cradling their daughter against him, rocking her gently.

A familiar, paralyzing pain gripped his chest — the suffocating ache of grief tangled with a love that had arrived too late to save her.

His gaze drifted across the room and fell on the dresser.

He rose and moved toward it with hesitant steps, as if already knowing that whatever he found there would break him a little more.

His hand hovered above the top drawer for a moment before pulling it open.

Inside, among notebooks, old photographs, and scattered papers, lay a letter.

Addressed simply: "Toto."

Her handwriting. Those letters he knew better than his own.

His heart stalled — and then hammered so violently against his ribs that he had to clench his jaw to steady himself.

He drew his daughter closer, held the letter in his shaking hand, and unfolded it.

He read.

Every word pierced him like a blade.

"I disappeared because I loved you too much..."

He squeezed his eyes shut, but the tears came anyway, spilling over, unstoppable, unwanted — yet needed.

"I know you loved me too. But not enough to stay..."

He trembled, clutching the letter to his chest as though he could somehow hold her close again, as though he could trap her words against his heart and never let them slip away.

One thought beat like a drum inside his mind: "I was too late..."

"I carry your child. A little girl."

He looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms. Her serene face, her delicate features — perfect and small. Her eyes were still closed, but he knew, deep in his soul, that when they opened, he would see Victoria staring back at him.

And he wept.

He wept as he never had before — out of helplessness, out of heartbreak, out of a love so immense it refused to be contained.

"I'm sorry, my love," he whispered through trembling lips, pressing their daughter and the letter both against his chest as though anchoring himself to them.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I failed to give you what you deserved. I'm sorry I loved you — and didn't tell you the way you needed to hear it."

He bent down and pressed a kiss to his daughter's soft head, breathing her in like a prayer.

"I promise you, Victoria," he murmured into the golden silence of the evening, "that for her... I will be everything I wasn't for you. I will be her home, her shelter. I will give her love, safety, and truth. She will never feel she is not enough. She will never have to hide who she is."

He lifted his gaze to the window, where the world outside was sinking into the molten glow of the setting sun.

This was not the end. It was the beginning of something new.

But Victoria would always be his.

Always.

Even though she was gone...

Her Flame never fade. Her fire still burned within him.

And it always would.

Two Days Later

There were no cameras. No speeches. No crowds or flashes from reporters' lenses.

Only silence. Only the soft murmur of the wind stirring the crowns of the trees. And a small group of people — the ones who had truly known her.

Victoria was laid to rest on a hillside, overlooking the forest.

A place chosen together by Toto and Lewis. Together — even though each stood on the very edge of tears, on the brink of pain and that unspoken grief for which there were no words.

Lewis stood quietly at the back, hidden behind dark sunglasses, his mouth set in a hard, trembling line. He did not speak once — but he was there. He stayed. Throughout.

Standing beside Vasseur, a few Ferrari mechanics, George, engineers, and even several Mercedes crew members who had come — because they could not not come.

Susie was there too. And Jack.

Toto stood by the coffin, cradling their daughter in his arms — wrapped in a white blanket, her tiny head nestled against his chest.

She did not cry. As if she somehow knew that this day belonged to silence.

On the lid of the coffin, Toto placed a single photograph — The one taken on the day Victoria won her first race for Mercedes. In her black racing suit, her hair wild and tousled, her laughter erupting into the air as though the whole world belonged to her.

When the others slowly began to drift away, one by one, Toto remained behind a little longer.

He knelt beside her grave. Pressed his daughter's tiny hand against the wood of the coffin.

"She will carry your name," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. "And I will tell her about you. About your laughter. About your fire. About that you were the love of my life."

The wind stirred the grass around them, whispering through the hillside.

And then, there was only silence again.

A silence in which all the words left unsaid still spoke — louder than anything else ever could.

Author note:

I know this chapter was heartbreaking 💔

Please take a deep breath.

The epilogue comes soon — and with it, a light that still burns in the dark.

-WhiteRaven87

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Next -> Epilogue

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whiteraven87 · 4 days ago

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The Flame That Never Fades - chapter 15: Born to Die (15/16)

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

====================

my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

====================

chapters until now:

============================

Chapter 15: Born To Die

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry Sometimes love is not enough And the road gets tough I don't know why Keep making me laugh, let's go get high The road is long we carry on Try to have fun in the meantime Come and take a walk on the wild side Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain You like your girls insane Choose your last words, this is the last time Cause you and I, we were born to die We were born to die We were born to die Born to Die - Lana Del Ray

Italy, November

One day, something changed.

Toto had never stopped searching. Not once. Every silent lead, every shadow of a memory, every line they might have once read together, every photograph — all of them led him towards one elusive truth.

Yet it was an old shipping manifest, signed with the name she once used on registration forms, that finally gave him a real clue.

A solitary cottage in the north of Italy.

He didn't inform anyone. He simply got into his car and drove.

When he parked, his heart was pounding like a drum. The cottage stood quietly, bathed in the golden beams of the winter afternoon sun, surrounded by a protective circle of forest, cloaked in silence. He saw her in the garden — standing with her back turned, wearing a long, loose dress and a thick sweater, a basket hanging from her hand. Her belly was rounded, and she moved with the slow, graceful rhythm of a woman carrying new life.

Toto froze.

Everything disappeared — the world, time, even the air around him.

"Victoria..." he whispered, as if unable to believe it was truly her.

She turned. Their eyes met. And for a long, harrowing second, she said nothing — just looked at him. Then, with the same force she once threw herself into a corner on the racetrack, she turned away and disappeared into the house.

He knocked.

"Please, leave," her voice came sharply through the door.

"No," he answered, his voice raw. "Not after everything."

The door swung open with a loud crack. She stood there, her eyes ablaze with anger and shining with the shadow of tears.

"Do you want to see what's left of your love?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Fine. Look. Here she is. Our child. But don't think for a second that it's a reason to come back."

Toto stepped closer, slowly. He looked at her — at her belly, at her hand clutching the fabric of her dress so tightly it trembled.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered.

"Because you had no right to know," she said, her voice cold and steady. "Because even back then, you were already where you always returned. To Susie. To your children. To a life where there was no place for me."

"But this is my child too..."

"No." Her voice broke slightly, but her gaze remained hard as steel. "This is my child, my little daughter. My body. My decision. And I don't need you, Toto. Not anymore."

He took another step forward, reaching out a hand as if to touch her — but she recoiled.

"There's nothing left to say," she whispered. "You left me once. Then you left me again. I won't let you break me a third time."

Her eyes were full of tears, but she did not cry. Not yet. She clung desperately to what little remained of herself.

Toto stood there in silence for a long, agonizing moment, looking at her as though trying to understand who she was now — the woman he had loved, and yet no longer fully knew.

And then, he did something Victoria had not expected.

He stepped toward her slowly, without the confidence, without the armor of strength he usually carried like a second skin. He approached her not as a man victorious, but as a man broken — and he stopped before her, his heart hammering, extending his hand as if the mere act of touching her could undo the devastation he had caused.

"I love you, Victoria," he whispered. "I love you like I have never loved anyone before. And I know I failed you. I know it's too late. But I want to fix everything. Everything."

He caught her hand in his, holding it tightly, as if terrified she might vanish if he let go.

"I'm divorcing Susie. I wasn't there for you when you needed me most. But I'm here now. I want to be a father. I want to be your partner — your husband, if you'll let me. I want to wake up next to you every morning, to hold our daughter in my arms, and... to start a life. With you."

She looked at him.

And then, quite unexpectedly, her face softened. In her eyes, there appeared a flicker of something that looked almost like hope.

And it was then — that Toto leaned in.

He took her face gently between his hands. And he kissed her.

Slowly. Tenderly. With all the love he had carried within him through all those long months — through every moment when he hadn't dared to offer her what she had craved most of all.

She returned his kiss. She gave him everything.

And then — slowly, trembling — she pulled away.

She turned her head, her hand sliding from his with a slowness that spoke of struggle, as though every inch between them was a battle she had to fight.

"No, Toto," she said softly. "It's over."

She looked at him — gently, yet with a painful certainty.

"I am no longer the same woman," she whispered. "And I don't want to build a life upon ruins. I don't want to look at you every day and remember all that I was denied when I needed it most. I don't want to raise our daughter in the shadow of everything that failed between us."

"Victoria, please, I beg you..."

"Don't say anything more," she interrupted him gently. "This isn't the absence of love. It's love that has simply ceased to be enough. Now I must live for her. For our daughter. And for no one else."

She hesitated, a tremor passing through her — but then she placed her hand over his heart. She could feel it beating. She could feel his pain as deeply as her own.

Toto bowed his head and kissed her forehead — with a trembling tenderness, as though it were a final kiss, a goodbye wrapped in every broken hope.

"I will love you always," he whispered. "And I will not forget a single second."

He turned away and walked off.

He did not look back. Because he knew — if he did, he would not have the strength to leave.

Victoria closed the door behind him. She leaned her back against it, pressing herself to the wood as though trying to hold herself together.

And it was only then, when all the strength had drained from her, that she began to cry.

Quietly. Fiercely. With her whole body.

She cried the way one cries for someone who was never truly yours — and yet was everything.

***

A few days after that fateful conversation, Victoria awoke at dawn with a strange sensation low in her abdomen. Cramping — gentle at first, but steady and rhythmic.

She did not panic — there was still time, she told herself — yet something deep within urged her to act quickly, instinct overriding reason.

She packed her bag with trembling hands, slid behind the wheel, and set off toward the nearest hospital.

The road stretched before her, empty and cloaked in the cold hush of early morning, while her mind whirled with anxious thoughts — and with hope.

Somewhere within her, she sensed this was an ending of something old and the beginning of something entirely new.

She simply didn't know yet how right she was.

The truck appeared out of nowhere — surging from the bend at a speed too great, too sudden.

Victoria had no chance to react.

The collision was violent, devastating. Her car spun multiple times before crashing into a ditch, crushed heavily on one side.

An ambulance arrived quickly — someone had heard the impact, the screeching metal tearing through the dawn silence.

At the hospital, the doctors did not waste time with questions.

Emergency cesarean section. Internal bleeding. Fractured ribs. Skull trauma. Critical condition.

But the baby — a little girl — lived. Strong. Unyielding. Just like her mother.

Somewhere in a duty room, a nurse flipping through Victoria's documents paused, her gaze catching on a name listed in the emergency contacts — a name she did not recognize, but which had been there for months, constant and waiting.

Toto Wolff. And a phone number.

***

The phone rang while Toto was sitting alone, swallowed by a silence so heavy it almost had a weight of its own.

When he answered and heard the words "hospital" and "accident," he did not ask for details.

He simply stood up. And drove.

Upon arriving, he was led without delay to the intensive care unit. The doctor looked at him gravely, her face a mask of composure.

"Your partner... Victoria... has been in a severe accident," she said. "Her condition is extremely critical. We managed to save the baby — a girl — but Victoria is fighting for her life."

Toto said nothing. He could not. He stood there, frozen, as if every part of him — heart, mind, soul — had suddenly ceased to function.

"She's on a ventilator," the doctor continued gently. "She's unconscious. We performed emergency surgery to remove a brain hematoma. Now... everything depends on her."

"And... the baby?" he managed to whisper.

"She's healthy. Stable. A preemie, but remarkably strong. She has a beautiful heart. And an extraordinary will to live. Just like..."

"...her mother," Toto finished for her in a voice so soft it barely existed.

They moved toward the nursery window. Inside, a tiny baby girl slept peacefully in an incubator, wrapped snugly in a pink blanket.

Toto pressed his forehead against the glass, his breath fogging it faintly.

"My..." he breathed. "My daughter."

But even as the words left him, he turned — almost urgently — toward the ICU.

When he stepped into Victoria's room, he stopped, stricken. She lay motionless, her face pale and still. Wires, monitors, the mechanical beep of machines — the relentless, fragile rhythm of a heart still beating, still clinging to life.

Toto sat down beside her, carefully, as though afraid his presence might disturb the delicate balance keeping her here.

"You can't leave me now," he whispered, his voice cracking with the sheer force of grief. "Not after everything. Not now, when I finally understand that I never deserved you... but I need you."

He brought her hand to his lips, holding it between his own trembling fingers.

"She needs you. I need you..."

And then he stayed.

Hours passing like heartbeats, endless and aching.

He stayed, holding her hand, praying into a silence deeper than any he had ever known.

Because now — now he truly understood what it meant to lose everything.

-----------

Next -> Chapter 16: Dark Paradise

-----------

26 notes · View notes

whiteraven87 · 5 days ago

Text

The Flame That Never Fades - chapter 14: Into Dust (14/16)

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

====================

my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

====================

chapters until now:

============================

Chapter 14: Into Dust

Still falling Breathless and on again Inside today Beside me today Around, broken in two Till your eyes shed Into dust Like two strangers Turning into dust Till my hand shook With the way I fear I could possibly be fading Or have something more to gain I could feel myself growing colder I could feel myse lf under your fate Under your fateIt was you Breathless and tall I could feel my eyes turning into dust And two strangers Turning into dust Turning into dust Into Dust - Mazzy Star

Several days after Victoria's announcement

The news of Victoria's departure from Formula 1 struck the entire motorsport world like a bolt of lightning. The media speculated: burnout, depression, illness, a conflict with Ferrari. No one knew the truth.

But two people sensed that this decision had deeper roots. And both remained silent — each from a different place.

Toto sat in his dark office, a phone in his hand. He opened the message from Ferrari's PR department, reading it over and over, as if hoping the words would somehow change.

"For personal reasons..."

His fingers trembled. He didn't believe it for a second.

This wasn't a career escape. Not for her. Not for the girl who had raced with a broken rib, who had driven blind without radio communication, who lived for speed. No.

This was an escape... from him. And perhaps from something more.

Something deep in his gut told him this wasn't the end of the story. So many times he had stopped himself from sending a message. So many times he had wanted to write just one thing: "Where are you?"

But he had no right. Because he was the reason she had disappeared.

***

For Lewis, it felt like a knife to the heart.

After everything they had been through. After how he had tried to keep her grounded, how he had cared, waited patiently, counted every smile — suddenly... she was gone.

Without a word. Without a goodbye. He didn't know where she had gone. The phone stayed silent. Messages remained unread.

In the depths of his heart... he knew.

It had to be connected to that night. To Toto. To something that had happened, something no one dared to name.

And he was afraid — if it had hurt her that much, maybe she had done something reckless. Maybe she truly needed help.

One night, he walked into the Mercedes motorhome. Without a word.

Toto was alone. As he had been lately.

Lewis stared at him for a long moment.

"What did you do to her?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know," Toto answered just as softly. "Maybe everything. Maybe only this one thing... that I loved her — and couldn't be there for her."

Lewis shook his head.

"Pray that you'll see her again. Because if you don't... all you'll have left is this silence."

And the silence was growing louder. And it smelled of something new.

Something with a beating heart.

***

Victoria had disappeared. Not in Masuria, not in any familiar cottage or villa.

She had left no trace, used no cards, contacted no one. She had found a place that neither Toto nor Lewis knew — and only there could she finally breathe.

It was cold, quiet, green. A small, abandoned house in the northern part of Italy, far from highways, far from the internet, far from the world.

She had been living there for several weeks. Alone. In complete silence.

No one was looking for her there. And that was exactly what she wanted.

***

The first time she felt the faint movement under her palm, she wasn't ready.

She was lying on the bed, the wooden walls scented with the faint aroma of pine, in a silence so deep she could hear her own heartbeat.

And then she felt it. That barely perceptible touch beneath her skin.

As if something — someone — was gently reminding her that she was still alive.

And she wept. Not from fear. Not from pain. But from love.

"Hey, little one," she whispered, pressing her hand to her belly. "You're mine. Only mine. No one needs to know. You don't have to give anything to anyone. You will never have to live in someone else's shadow."

She loved her instantly. Unconditionally. Instinctively.

This child was her strength. Her escape. Her new beginning.

Not a return to the past. Not his continuation.

She was her daughter. Her heart. Her world. And no one would ever have the right to take her away.

Victoria closed the shutters. Turned off the light.

Wrapped herself in a blanket and placed her hand over her belly, listening to the rain tapping against the window.

She might have lost everything. But this one life... she had saved.

And it was all she needed now.

***

Toto couldn't sleep.

Weeks had passed since Victoria's departure had been announced, and with each sleepless night, he sank deeper into darkness. He pored over footage from the paddock cameras, analyzed the last logins from her devices, contacted people she had once trusted.

No one knew anything. Or they didn't want to say. But one thing he knew for certain: she hadn't disappeared because she had to. She had disappeared because she had to escape him. That was the worst part.

Susie saw everything.

How he stared blankly at his silent phone. How he interrupted conversations to check his emails. How his gaze wandered aimlessly, as if he kept seeing her — Victoria — just beyond the glass.

That evening, Susie couldn't take it anymore.

Their daughter was sleeping in her cradle. The house was silent.

Susie stood by the window, arms folded across her chest, a silent pain gleaming in her eyes.

"We need to talk, Toto."

He looked up. He said nothing.

"It's over."

A tremor flickered across his eyes. He wanted to deny it. But he didn't.

"You want a divorce?"

"Not because I hate you. Because I don't. I never will," she said softly. "But I love myself enough to know that I don't deserve to be just a harbor for someone who gave his heart to another woman."

Toto lowered his gaze. His throat tightened painfully.

"You're still looking for her. Everywhere. In every place. And I... I don't delude myself anymore. She was always between us."

Susie took a step closer.

"But if you really love her... stop destroying her. If she ran away from you, from us, from the entire world... it means she could no longer breathe."

"I just want to know if she's alive..." he whispered.

"You want to know if she still loves you," she gently corrected him. "But do you know what's the worst part?"

She paused. Then, slowly:

"You broke her so completely that she left no trace behind. Because she was afraid you'd find her again. And take whatever little she had left. This... this is already an obsession."

He said nothing. Because he knew she was right.

And that night, looking at his daughter's peaceful face, for the first time he felt that maybe he could be a father...

...but he would never again be the man Victoria could love.

November, Italy

Almost half a year had passed. Victoria's belly was now visibly rounded.

Every day, she woke to the song of birds and the scent of damp wood, surrounded by the silence she needed like air. Loneliness was her choice. And her protection.

She spoke to no one. Her phone lay tucked away in a drawer, turned off for months.

In the small town, no one knew her past. She was simply a pregnant woman who had rented a house and occasionally came down to the store for milk and bread.

She had only a few photographs. No keepsakes.

Everything she carried, she bore within her — beneath her heart.

One evening, as the rain drummed a steady rhythm against the roof, she sat at an old desk and pulled out a blank sheet of paper.

She knew she had to write this letter.

Not to send it — but to finally let the words slip from under her skin.

Toto,

I don't know where you are now. I don't know if you're still searching for me, or if you've already stopped. Maybe you closed that chapter, tucked me away into a drawer of memories where it doesn't hurt anymore.

Maybe you've learned to live without me — the way you always could.

I... couldn't.

Not after everything we did to each other. Not after what we lost, without ever daring to call it "ours."

I didn't leave because I hated you.

I disappeared because I loved you too much.

So much that I could hardly breathe when I watched you walk back into a world where there was never a place for me.

I was your secret. Your sin.

Never your choice.

I know you loved me — even if you never found the words to say it completely.

But not enough to stay. Not enough to be unable to heal from me.

And that was the hardest truth to understand.

I am not asking for your forgiveness. I am not asking you to come back.

I only want you to know something I never got to tell you.

I am carrying your child.

A little girl.

Your hands touched me with such force, as if you were trying to steal something back from the world. And maybe it was then — instead of yet another night meant to mean nothing — that life was created.

I know you would have been a good father.

That you would have loved her, protected her, been everything you never managed to be for me — out loud.

But I cannot give her to you.

Not because I want to punish you. But because she cannot be another chapter in our story. She must be a new story. Without pain. Without shadows. Without fear that she's not enough to make someone stay. Without me as "the other woman."

I am writing this letter not to make you suffer. I am writing it so you know that despite everything — you gave me something that will endure.

A part of you. And a part of me.

Born from a mistake... that, for me, meant everything.

I love you, Toto. And I always will.

In every breath that steals the memory of your hands from me.

But now, I have to live. Not for you.

For her.

She folded the letter slowly. Slipped it into an envelope. Left the address blank.

She placed it in the drawer, among a few empty sheets of paper.

And then she went to sleep — for the first time in a long while, peacefully.

Because she had spoken the words that hurt the most.

And that was enough.

-----------

Next -> Chapter 15: Born to Die

-----------

31 notes · View notes

whiteraven87 · 6 days ago

Text

The Flame That Never Fades - chapter 13 - Too Deep (13/16)

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

====================

my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

====================

chapters until now:

============================

Chapter 13: Too Deep

Some say I'm in it Too deep below you But how can I fix it When I'm wide-eyed in front of you? And I'm caught up within my head Without you in this empty bed, no, no Some say I'm in it Too deep below you Too Deep - Sickotoy, Eva Timush

Two months later, Australian GP – Season Opening

Albert Park Circuit was alive with energy. New colors, new contracts, new hopes. But for fans, journalists, and rivals, one event eclipsed everything else: the debut of Victoria Lorenz with Ferrari.

Her red suit stood in sharp contrast to what they knew. The face remained the same—focused, detached, precise. Yet in her blue eyes, the rebellious fire was gone. In its place burned the flames of determination.

Victoria in red looked like a challenge. And that's exactly how she drove.

The race was brutal. The Mercedes cars pushed hard, Red Bulls refused to back down. Yet it was she who clinched pole position. A perfect start. Aggressive, but without chaos. Cut off from the world, clocking one of the fastest race times. Ferrari's strategy—flawless.

Victory. Her first for the Scuderia.

Standing on the top step of the podium, her face lifted toward the sun, champagne held high, she looked like someone who had reclaimed her strength.

But deep inside — his shadow still lingered.

Toto watched the race from the hospital. He wasn't at the track. Not this time.

Susie had gone into labor the day before. Long. Silent. Intense.

Finally, on Sunday afternoon, his daughter was born.

Tiny, pink, her little fingers curling around his thumb. He looked at her as if witnessing a miracle. As if the chaos of the world had fallen silent, if only for a moment.

"She has your eyes," Susie said with a tired smile.

Toto remained silent. Words escaped him. He didn't cry. But in his gaze there was humility. And tenderness. And an emptiness he could no longer explain.

Because even as he held his child in his arms... his mind was elsewhere.

***

That evening, while Susie slept and the baby lay in the nurse's arms, he turned on his phone and saw a picture from the podium. Victoria in red. Alone. Proud. Sharp as a blade. And next to her—Lewis. With a smile that was no longer just friendly.

Toto stared at it for a long time. And in the silence, he whispered just one thing:

"You won, fiery girl. But I can no longer congratulate you."

When the headlines exploded the next day:

"Ferrari back on top thanks to Victoria Lorenz!"

"A new era for the Scuderia"

"Mercedes defeated by their former star"

Toto turned off his phone and returned to the hospital room.

He kissed his daughter's forehead. And he whispered:

"I don't know how to be a good father to you if my whole heart was left behind. With her."

A few days later

Toto sat in his office at Brackley, at the oak desk that had witnessed the most important decisions of his career. Headlines pulsed on the screen before him.

"New F1 couple? Victoria Lorenz and Lewis Hamilton together?"

"Growing closer in the paddock, secret trips – hidden romance?"

"Champions united – romance of the year?"

Neither of them spoke. Neither denied it. And the world, as always, did the rest.

Toto stared at the screen without blinking, but inside him burned a raging fire.

Each headline was another stab to the heart. He had no right to her. He held no grudge against Lewis. But he felt... jealousy. Not silent. Not pitiful. But burning. Brutal. Possessive.

He closed his eyes.

And then that night came flooding back.

Her body sprawled across this very desk. Her hair cascading like golden threads. Her legs wrapped around his hips. Her nails digging into his shoulders. Her soft moan as he entered her. Deeper. Harder. As he growled through gritted teeth:

"You're mine. Do you hear me? Only mine."

And she... She had looked at him with adoration he would never forget.

In her eyes, he had seen the whole world. She had given herself to him entirely. Without fear. Without hesitation.

And he had destroyed it.

Now he sat in the very spot where he had once gripped her hips, kissed her neck, torn the team hoodie from her, whispered in German all the things he would do to her, and she—trembling but certain—had answered:

"Do it. I want to belong to you."

He clenched his jaw. Leaned back in his chair. Swallowed the bitterness. Because now he saw her by someone else's side. Someone who didn't have to hide. Someone who could hold her hand in front of the cameras. Someone who could laugh with her over lunch. Someone who was light, not shadow.

Toto looked at the screen once more.

The photo. Victoria and Lewis. She in red. He in black. Looking at each other with something resembling peace.

And then, very softly, Toto whispered to himself:

"You're not his. You're still mine. Even if you never come back."

But deep down, he knew:

This time... he had lost everything.

Brackley, evening, Toto's main office

Silence, broken only by the hum of the ventilation. And a tension so thick it could no longer be ignored.

Toto sat behind his desk, his face weary, his brow furrowed, fingers clasped together. When the door closed, he lifted his gaze and met Lewis's stare—hard, unyielding. Without a trace of a smile.

"Sit down," Toto said quietly.

"I'd rather stand," Lewis replied coldly.

A moment of silence. Thick. Sharp as glass.

"What's going on between you and Victoria?" Toto asked at last.

Lewis let out a short laugh. But there was nothing joyful about it.

"You're asking me that now? After everything? You?"

"I have the right to know," Toto answered firmly, though something in his voice faltered. "You're not denying it. And the media—"

"Or maybe it just burns you up that someone else is holding her hand, huh?" Lewis's voice rose like a wave.

Toto stayed silent. But he didn't look away.

"You want to know what's between us?" Lewis continued, stepping closer to the desk with each word. "I'm the one picking her up, Toto. Me. After you left her with nothing."

"I didn't leave her—" Toto began.

"Didn't you?" Lewis cut him off with a fury no one had ever seen in him before. "You screwed her wherever you felt like it, fucked her whenever you wanted. On the desk. In the motorhome. In hotel rooms. You made promises. And then, when she looked at you like you were her whole damn world, like a god... you ran back to your wife. To your perfect little family."

Toto stood up. Tense. Silent. But he didn't deny it.

"She... she knew it wouldn't be easy..." he said, his voice strained.

"She was a girl madly in love!" Lewis shouted. "A young woman you only loved when no one was watching! She deserved everything. And you gave her a night. And a morning after which you disappeared."

Toto turned his gaze away. Something flickered across his face—bitterness. Shame.

"I love her," he finally said quietly. "But I couldn't give her more."

"You didn't want to. Don't lie to yourself."

"Lewis..."

"No. I'm talking now," Lewis's voice trembled. "I saw her crying through the nights. Driving like a maniac, like she wanted to die. I saw her crumpled on the motorhome floor, shaking, broken... because you shattered her."

"And you're the one putting her back together, right?" Toto asked softly, bitterness in his voice.

"I'm trying. I'm not you. I'll never have the look she gave you. But I'm there. Every day. And I won't let you hurt her again."

Toto slowly sat back down, as if the weight of those words had slammed into his chest.

Because no one—no one—had ever told him these things so brutally, so truthfully, right to his face.

Lewis looked at him once more.

"Don't ask me about Victoria again. Don't speak her name. You've done enough."

And he left. And Toto... stayed. Alone. In a silence where every corner of his office still smelled of her body's memory. And he realized that for the first time in his life, he truly knew what it felt like... to lose the person you love.

One Month Later, April, Japanese GP – Evening After the Race

Toto stood in front of her hotel room door, his hand suspended in mid-air. He could still taste the afternoon — the scent of gasoline, the scream over the radio as her Ferrari spun on the wet asphalt and crashed violently into the barrier.

For a moment, the world had stopped.

Now he knew she had made it out. Bruised. Battered. But alive.

He hadn't planned on coming here. He had no right. But he couldn't sleep, breathe, function until he saw her with his own eyes.

The door opened. Victoria stood in the doorway. Dressed only in black, soft, simple lingerie.

Her skin was marred with bruises and scrapes. A bandage wrapped around her hip. A mark from the safety harness etched across her shoulder.

Her eyes were filled with exhaustion. And a wall.

"What do you want?" she asked hoarsely.

Toto swallowed hard. He took a step forward. He didn't speak. He just... looked. At her body. At her wounds. At the trembling in her shoulders she couldn't hide.

"Leave, please," she whispered.

But he was already close. He approached her slowly, as if every movement hurt him. He touched her face. Gently. Her forehead. The line of her jaw.

"I thought I was going to lose you. I thought it was over. And I realized... I can't live without you anymore."

"Don't say that," she whispered, turning her face away. "You have no right. Not after everything."

"I love you, Victoria. I've always loved you. Even when I was a coward. Even when I walked away."

"Toto..." her voice trembled. "Leave me."

"No. Not this time."

He kissed her. First carefully, as if asking for permission. Then fiercely. Deeply. He held her face, her shoulders, kissing her wounds, her neck, the scars of life.

She tried to push him away. Tried to keep up the wall. But the wall cracked.

They sank into each other like drowning souls. He slowly unclasped her bra, brushing every place he touched. With his knee, he parted her thighs, kissing her belly, her arms, every bruised spot with tenderness and fire.

Victoria trembled beneath him, gasping for air between her teeth, whispering his name between spasms. She was wet. Sensitive. Hungry for his presence.

He entered her slowly, resting his forehead against hers.

"I will never leave you again. You are everything. Everything I have."

Victoria clutched at his back, then lifted her hips, taking him in deeper. Her body, despite the pain, responded instantly — it knew him. It had missed him.

They moved together — deep, long, with fire and despair.

Toto caressed her, kissed her, whispered in Polish:

"I love you... my beautiful girl... my wild, fiery girl..."

And she wept. Silently. In ecstasy. In despair.

And when it was over, when they collapsed together, his body still inside hers, his lips on her neck — she said very quietly:

"Leave."

He froze.

"What...?"

"Leave. Please. Now."

Toto lifted his head. He saw the tears in her eyes.

"Don't do this..."

"You already did. You took what you wanted. And you'll go back to Susie. To your children. To your perfect world."

"No... Victoria..."

"Enough. I'm not your toy. I'm not your one-night whore. I love you, do you understand? And it's killing me."

She rose to her feet, naked, trembling with pain but strong.

"Leave. And don't come back. Because I won't survive it a second time."

Toto put on his shirt without a word. He looked at her one last time. At her body. At her tears. At her strength. And he walked out.

And she slid down to the floor. Naked. Crying. With a body that still smelled of him.

And a heart that no longer believed in anything.

A week later, after the Chinese GP race, Ferrari Garage

Victoria — absent, closed off, a shadow of herself. She didn't answer calls. She didn't reply to messages. In the hotel, she locked herself in her room.

At the track — she performed her duties mechanically. No smiles. No jokes. No fire in her eyes.

Only Lewis dared. He approached her after the briefing. Gently, without pressure.

"Vici... what's going on?"

She lifted her gaze to him. Calm. Lifeless.

"Nothing."

"Don't do this, please. Don't disappear. Don't pretend everything's fine when your whole being is screaming..."

"Lewis... don't ask. I don't want to talk. Just... leave me alone, okay?"

He knew. He didn't need words. He knew. There was an emptiness in her eyes he had never seen before. And anger. But not the explosive kind — the kind that gnawed into your bones.

He left. Straight to the Mercedes motorhome.

Toto was sitting alone, in silence. The desk was empty. The phone — muted. His face pale. His eyes fixed on the window, behind which nothing was happening.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Lewis growled from the doorway. Toto didn't flinch.

"Victoria isn't saying a word. But I know. And I see it. She's like a wreck. And you're sitting here like a corpse, not even trying to fix anything?"

Toto looked up slowly. Not with anger. With... emptiness.

"She told me I destroyed her. And that she wouldn't survive it a second time."

"Then why did you go to her? Why touch her again if you had no intention of staying?"

"Because I love her."

"No, Toto. You need her. But love... love is something more. Loving means not taking everything away when you have nothing to give."

Toto fell silent. He could still hear her words. Still feel her skin, her tears. He knew that this time he had crossed a line there was no coming back from.

Lewis looked at him once more.

"If you hurt her again, I swear to you... you won't even have the chance to regret it."

The door slammed shut. And Toto was left alone.

With the silence that echoed like her tears.

***

Two months had passed.

The paddock had grown used to her emotional absence. At press conferences, she was factual, cold. At briefings — silent. On the track — still flawless, but as if she were driving for someone else. Not for herself.

Yet Victoria felt something changing.

At first, it was exhaustion. Then slight dizziness. Morning nausea she blamed on stress. Until one day, after a training session, she ran to the bathroom and vomited endlessly.

Something inside her froze.

She went to the clinic. Alone. Without telling anyone.

The doctor looked at the ultrasound screen, then at her, and said softly,

"Congratulations. It's a very early pregnancy, but everything looks perfectly fine."

Time stopped. She didn't cry. She didn't react violently.

She walked out of the office like an automaton. She drove in silence.

And then, that same night, she packed her things and disappeared.

On Monday, a brief statement circled the world:

"For personal reasons, Victoria Lorenz is temporarily suspending her career in Formula 1. Ferrari kindly asks for privacy."

She didn't tell Lewis. She didn't say goodbye to the team. She left everything behind — the race suit, the trophies, the starting number.

But one thing she knew for certain: Toto could never find out.

Not about this. Not about the child. Because whatever had once existed between them... no longer did.

And this new life growing silently inside her — it was her choice.

Her path. Her secret.

And maybe, for the first time in her life, she had something that was truly hers.

-----------

Next -> Chapter 14: Into Dust

-----------

31 notes · View notes

whiteraven87 · 7 days ago

Text

The Flame That Never Fades - chapter 12 - Blue Jeans (12/16)

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

====================

my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

====================

chapters until now:

Prologue 1: Middle of the Night 2: Frozen 3: Shameless 4: Lilith 5: Ruthless 6: The Machine 7: Ride 8: No One Like You 9: Sad Girl 10: Summetime Sadness 11: Un-break My Heart 12: Blue Jeans

============================

Chapter 12: Blue Jeans

I will love you till the end of time I would wait a million years Promise you'll remember that you're mine Baby can you see through the tears Love you more than those bitches before Say you'll remember oh baby Say you'll remember oh baby oooh I will love you till the end of time Blue Jeans - Lana Del Ray

Masuria, Poland

A chilly morning, dew-soaked grass, mist hovering over the lake's surface. The cabin was silent. Victoria sat on the porch, wrapped in a thick woolen sweatshirt, her hand clenched around a mug of black coffee.

She hadn't expected her.

When she heard the engine's sound, her heart fluttered for a moment. When she saw the familiar car, she wanted to flee inside. But she stayed. She froze. Because she was tired of running.

Susie got out slowly. She wore a long, cream-colored coat, her baby bump now clearly visible beneath it. Her face was calm. Mature. A little sad. And unbelievably tender.

She walked a few steps and, without asking, sat beside Victoria on the other chair. For a moment, neither spoke. Only the wind played among the treetops.

"This is a beautiful place," Susie said at last. "The silence here... it almost hurts."

Victoria didn't answer. She stared into the distance. At her trees. At the world that shielded her from the one that had broken her.

"I'm seven months along," Susie said softly. "It's going to be a girl."

Victoria's voice trembled as she replied:

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

Silence fell again. Then Susie looked at her carefully. Directly. Without walls.

"I didn't come here to blame you, Vici. I didn't come as the wife of the man you loved. I came as a woman... who knows what it means to love someone who tears your heart apart."

Victoria turned her gaze away, her eyes welling with tears. But she said nothing.

"I don't blame you," Susie said calmly. "You were young. Alone. Hurt. And he... he was there. Always. Toto can be everything at once—a rock, a fire, water that soothes. A man who makes a woman feel special. He could have had any woman if he wanted."

"I never meant to hurt you," Victoria whispered. "It wasn't a plan. I just... one day I woke up and knew I couldn't stop anymore."

"I know. I saw it in your eyes before I even understood what was happening between you. But it wasn't your job to draw the line. It was his. He was older, wiser, responsible. He had a wife. A child. And you were under his care."

"And I... I let him have me," Victoria's voice broke again. "Because I thought I meant everything to him. I thought he would leave for me."

"Because he gave you that hope," Susie said quietly. "And he shouldn't have. He made a promise he couldn't keep. And because of that... now you're the one suffering."

Silence settled again. Victoria breathed heavily, fingers tightening around her mug.

"I can't be around you anymore," she said. "I can't watch you with your belly, with Jack... with him. I can't be his driver and pretend nothing happened. That he didn't take everything from me and give nothing back."

Susie leaned forward and gently reached for her hand, enclosing it softly.

"You're strong. But you don't have to carry this pain alone. Even if Toto can't be with you, it doesn't mean you don't deserve love. Respect. Life."

"Maybe. But today... I'm not there yet."

"That's okay."

They sat together for a long time. Silent. In a peace neither of them had known for many months. And even though they were divided by the man they both loved, through this one conversation... they found mutual understanding.

Because they knew there weren't only guilty parties in this story.

There were also two women. Broken in different ways. And loving—too deeply.

December, Qatar, Mercedes Motorhome

The evening was quiet.

The Mercedes motorhome stood deserted after an intense day of testing. The last lights in the office still flickered dimly, and Victoria knew she would find him there — just as she always did, when the whole world seemed to fall asleep.

She knocked softly.

From the other side, Toto's voice answered, "Come in."

She stepped inside.

He was standing by the window, as if he had sensed her presence long before. He didn't turn to look at her.

"I knew you would come eventually," he said quietly.

Victoria closed the door behind her. Before a single word left her lips, their eyes found each other. There was no fire in them anymore. No anger. Only exhaustion. And that strange, heartbreaking tenderness that lingers after a great love.

"I need to tell you something," she began.

Toto nodded, as if he already knew. He had seen it in her for some time now — the loosening of her shoulders, not born of relief, but of resolve.

"I'm leaving Mercedes. I've received a lucrative offer. Ferrari. A new season. A new chapter."

His hand trembled where it gripped the back of a chair. Slowly, finally, he turned to face her fully, his defenses down.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I can't be here anymore," she said. "Because every corner of the factory reminds me of you. Of us. Because I don't know how to be just a driver in a team that broke me — even if it gave me everything."

Her voice stayed steady, but her eyes gleamed with unshed tears.

She paused, gathering herself.

"And I know you'll think it's running away. But for me, it's the only way to save myself."

Toto lowered his head, silence wrapping around him like a shroud. After a long moment, he whispered, "I thought we could survive this. That despite everything... you would stay. Because it was your home too."

"It's not a home anymore," Victoria said, her voice softer now. "It's a museum of memories. And I don't want to walk among ruins anymore, Toto."

Then, as if against his will, he asked, "And Lewis?"

The question caught her off guard, but she didn't deny it.

"Lewis is... the only one who stayed," she said. "When you left, he stayed. Silent, patient, warm. He doesn't judge. He doesn't expect. And he doesn't want me for himself — he's just there for me."

A shadow crossed Toto's face — jealousy, regret. But he had no right to feel either.

"He loves you," he said hoarsely.

"I know," she replied. "And I'm learning how to live in a place where someone truly sees me. Not hidden. Not in the dark. Not behind the scenes of a gala. But in the light."

She stepped closer, slowly, and extended a folder toward him. He didn't reach for it.

"Thank you for everything, Toto," she said. "For once teaching me how to love. And now... for teaching me how to leave."

"Vici..." His voice cracked. "If I had a second chance..."

"But you don't," she said gently. "And neither do I."

She walked away. Slowly. Without a word. Without looking back.

And Toto remained standing there.

With her resignation letter trembling in his hand. And the devastating knowledge that his greatest gift... had just walked out of the room.

Forever.

***

The announcement day went down in Formula 1 history as one of the most surprising in recent years.

Ferrari had called a press conference in Maranello. The emblem of the Scuderia gleamed behind the presidential table, and the hall was packed to the last seat with media from all over the world.

At the center of the stage stood an empty chair — reserved for the new driver.

At last, she appeared.

Victoria Lorenz — dressed in a red race suit with the black prancing horse on her chest, her long blonde hair cascading loosely over her shoulders, and eyes that no longer fled from the world.

It was her. But different. Stronger. Colder. Freed.

"Thank you to Mercedes for every single day of this journey. I owe them everything. But now, it's time for a new chapter. Time for red colors — and to fight for something greater than titles," she said calmly into the microphones.

"Was your departure related to anything beyond sport?" came a question from the audience.

Victoria smiled — but there was no amusement in it.

"Sometimes the heart never stops loving. But a person learns to move on. And I... am moving on."

***

At the Mercedes headquarters, silence reigned.

Toto watched the conference alone, on the screen in his office. An empty coffee cup lay on the table. On the wall hung a framed piece she had once given him — a charcoal drawing of the Imola circuit, with her handwritten note on the back: "That's where I was broken. But because of you, I rose again."

Now he knew — she would not be back. Not ever.

Lewis stood beside Victoria in the Ferrari lobby — smiling, but with eyes that saw far more than the rest of the world.

When the conference ended, he placed a hand on her back — not possessively, just simply being there.

And she allowed it. The media went wild.

"Shocking transfer!"

"Mercedes' diamond switches colors!"

"Love, loyalty, betrayal?"

Rumors spread like wildfire — but no one knew the truth. Only a few did.

Toto sat for a long time in the dark office, staring at the image on the screen — Victoria in red, with a spark of power in her gaze.

He knew he had done what was right. For the family. For the children.

But never before had he felt defeat so acutely. Because Victoria had not left the Mercedes Team.

She had left him.

-----------

Next -> Chapter 13: Too Deep

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20 notes · View notes

whiteraven87 · 7 days ago

Note

oh my god please let Victoria have her happiness. Poor girl 😢😢

I hope she ends with Lewis. He took her pieces put it back together 😭

Anon, Your words hit me straight in the heart 💔

I know... Victoria deserves the world and all the love and happines.

Lewis — he saw her, truly saw her, when she was falling apart.

But this story was never meant to be easy.

It's a flame — beautiful, fierce… and consuming. Some flames — no matter how carefully we try to shield them — burn until nothing is left.

Hold on tight.

It might hurt. But I promise, it will be honest. Even if it breaks us ... a little.

#toto wolff #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #the flame that never fades #mercedes f1 #toto wolff imagine

19 notes · View notes

whiteraven87 · 8 days ago

Text

The Flame That Never Fades - chapter 11 - Un-break My Heart (11/16)

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

====================

my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

====================

chapters until now:

Prologue 1: Middle of the Night 2: Frozen 3: Shameless 4: Lilith 5: Ruthless 6: The Machine 7: Ride 8: No One Like You 9: Sad Girl 10: Summetime Sadness 11: Un-break My Heart

============================

Chapter 11: Un-break My Heart

Don't leave me in all this pain Don't leave me out in the rain Come back and bring back my smile Come and take these tears away I need your arms to hold me now The nights are so unkind Bring back those nights when I held you beside me Un-break my heart Say you'll love me again Undo this hurt you caused When you walked out the door And walked out of my life Un-cry these tears I cried so many nights Un-break my heart My heart Un-break my Heart - J2, 3AUM

Monaco, September

Returning to Monaco felt like a dream.

From the airplane window, she saw the bay's blue curve and the golden morning light reflecting off the glass towers. On her finger, she wore a ring — not an engagement ring, but his. He had given it to her that night on the beach. He hadn't said much. Just looked at her and said:

"It's yours. Like I am."

Her heart beat faster. She smiled to herself, to no one, to the world. She was already planning in her mind — how to survive the first weeks in secret, how not to betray their truth at the track. But she wasn't afraid. Because she had him.

Because he had chosen her.

She unpacked her bag, slipped into a light dress, let her hair down. When evening came and the sun dipped behind Monaco's hills, she stood by the window and waited.

Until he knocked.

The door opened, and she rushed into his arms. He held her — but something in his embrace was different. Tighter. Heavier.

"Hey," she whispered, brushing her lips against his neck. "You're here."

He didn't answer. He took her hand and led her to the living room. He sat down. Looked at her. And she knew. Even before he opened his mouth — she knew.

"Susie is pregnant," he finally said, quietly, breaking.

She froze. In a single moment, everything stopped. Time, breath, heartbeat.

"What...?"

"She told me when I got back today. She's certain. It's early, but... everything looks good. Jack's going to have a sibling."

She said nothing. She just sat down. Slowly. Stiffly. As if her body no longer belonged to her.

"So..." she began, voice trembling, "you're going back."

Toto lowered his head.

"Vici... I..."

"You're going back to her. To the family. To your son." Each word cut deeper.

"I can't leave them now. Not at this moment. It would be... unforgivable."

"And me?" she asked quietly.

He was silent.

Tears welled in her eyes.

"And what am I, Toto? What was I?"

"Don't say that. Please. You are... everything I can't have. You're my light, my fire. And I've never loved anyone like this."

"But not enough to stay," she whispered, as tears ran down her cheeks. "Because I — foolish, naive girl — thought Toto Wolff could be mine. That someone like you... could love someone like me."

"I do love you," he whispered, broken. "And that's the worst part. That I have to leave, even though I love you."

He came to her. Knelt. Took her hands, kissing each one. His eyes shone with tears.

"I'm sorry. For everything. For pulling you in. For giving you hope. For not being able to be your ending. But... I want you to be happy. Even if... it's not with me."

He kissed her. One last time. Desperately. Trembling. With all the pain he carried inside. As if trying to leave in that kiss everything he hadn't dared to say aloud.

When he pulled away, her tears were falling in silence.

"Go," she whispered. "Because if you stay even a second longer... I won't let you leave."

Toto nodded. And left.

And she remained. Alone. In the apartment that, just an hour ago, had been full of love.

And she understood — that sometimes, the greatest kind of love... is the one you have to let go.

November, two months later, Brazilian Grand Prix

After their breakup, Victoria didn't cry for long. She didn't have time. She didn't allow herself to.

Instead... she drove.

Each race was a battlefield, and she — a warrior without armor. She attacked corners with ruthless precision, daringly dancing on the edge of risk. She overtook where no one else would even dare to look. Took pole position like air, and then threw everything onto the track like she had nothing to lose. Because she didn't.

She turned pain into speed. Grief into aggression. Longing into cold, surgical fury.

And Toto... watched. At first, he didn't intervene.

But the longer it went on, the more recklessly she tiptoed along the line between genius and suicide, the more he unraveled. With each race, he saw her eyes — empty, cold, focused not on victory, but on escape.

As if she were searching for the edge. The limit. The wall.

And then came that day. The race was brutal. Rain. Chaos. Crashes. Cars in the gravel.

But she — not only held the lead. She commanded it. Like fury. Like a force of nature. Skating on the verge of slipping, defying strategy, ignoring messages she dismissed with silence.

She finished on the podium. But she didn't celebrate. She stepped down like a shadow.

And he... broke.

The door to her motorhome room slammed open.

Victoria stood by the sink, her hair wet, still in her race suit, halfway undone. She turned slowly, unsurprised. She knew he would come.

"What do you want?"

Toto entered, shut the door behind him.

"We need to talk. Now."

"You came to scold me, boss?" she asked icily. "Or maybe... you came to undress me?"

"Stop it," he hissed. "This isn't a game. You're going to crash, do you understand?! You'll die if you keep driving like this!"

"So what? A silver funeral?" she laughed bitterly. "Pretty flowers, maybe Susie brings something from the garden?"

"Victoria!"

He stepped toward her, grabbed her by the shoulders. She stared into his eyes. Hard. Tearless.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you destroying yourself?!"

"Because only there, on that track, I'm someone," she said through clenched teeth. "Because there, I'm not your mistake. I'm not the stupid girl who thought Toto Wolff actually loved her."

His grip loosened. But not his gaze.

"Vici... it wasn't like that..."

"No!" she shouted. "You don't get to tell me what's 'like that' anymore. I gave you everything. And you took it. You took me. Broke me. And then you left. So don't come here now, like some remorseful king, trying to fix his broken toy!"

"It's not true," he whispered.

"Isn't it?!" she stepped up to him, jabbing his chest with her finger. "Then why are you here, boss? Came to fuck me as punishment? You think I'll throw myself at you again, like before — naked, burning, yours?"

She fell silent. There were tears in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall.

"I'm not that same girl anymore. And I won't be. So go back. To your wife. To your kids. To your perfect world. And leave me in my hell — the one I built myself."

He stood before her like a man whose heart had been ripped out — but who was not allowed to die.

"I never left you, Vici... I stayed with them. But I never left you."

She simply shook her head.

"But you'll never come back to me."

And she turned away, closing the bathroom door behind her, leaving him alone in a silence that hurt more than her screams.

***

Toto left her room like a man walking out of a fire.

He shut the door behind him slowly, mechanically. Her words rang in his ears. Cutting. Cold. Shattering.

"Came to fuck me as punishment?"

"I'm not that same girl."

"Go back to your perfect world."

He gasped for air like a man who had been underwater too long. His own body felt heavy. Each step through the paddock was a fight with gravity, as though his heart were anchoring him to the ground.

Everyone who passed him saw only the boss. Cold. Silent. Focused.

But in his eyes... there were no thoughts anymore. Only chaos.

He locked himself in his office. Spoke to no one. Took no calls. For an hour, he sat in silence. Until, finally, when an engineer entered with a report — he exploded. Threw the binder against the wall. Shouted.

Not at him. At himself. At the world. At the fact that he had lost control.

At the fact that, for the first time in years... he didn't know what to do. Because Victoria was right. He took everything from her. Her peace. Her innocence. Her heart. And then he chose safety.

He didn't regret going back to Susie. He wasn't a monster. They had once loved each other deeply. Jack was his son. The new baby — his responsibility. Families aren't abandoned.

But...

Every day since he made that choice, he had been dying piece by piece.

And today... for the first time, he realized he hadn't just hurt her. He had destroyed himself, too.

Because he loved her. Wrongly. Too late. But truly.

He stepped out onto the motorhome terrace, where the paddock was slowly emptying. Evening fell over the track like a heavy curtain.

He stood in silence, hands gripping the railing. Until one began to tremble.

For the first time, Toto Wolff didn't feel like a leader. Or a father. Or a husband. He felt like... a man who had lost the woman he loved and could do nothing to make it right.

"Victoria..." he whispered into the emptiness that no longer held her. "You have no idea how much I need you."

But it was already too late. And that was the first moment he was truly afraid.

Not for her. For himself.

Because without her... he was nothing.

***

Lewis was watching.

He didn't speak, didn't ask, didn't push. But he saw everything.

Victoria sat at the end of the table during the briefing. The screen in front of her was blank, the data still loading, and she stared at it as if it were a wall. She didn't move, didn't listen. Her body was present. Her soul — elsewhere.

He recognized that look. That emptiness. That kind of silence left behind by someone who's gone, though never truly forever.

For weeks, he'd seen her change. How she clenched her jaw between sentences. How she stopped answering calls after the races. How she left straight after the podium ceremony. How each new race was a battle — not for the podium. For survival.

He saw Toto too. Nervous. Silent. Tense. As if someone had cut every thread of control inside him.

Lewis wasn't an idiot. He'd put two and two together long ago.

It was that night. The flashback that returned to him like a dream.

Flashback – Lewis's perspective, a few months earlier, Miami

That night, Lewis couldn't sleep.

The hotel was luxurious, the silence of the night soft and heavy at once. Lewis stepped out onto the terrace with a cup of tea in hand, hoping the cooler air would help him breathe. He walked across the terrace, then through the garden, where dim lights lined the stone paths and shrubs with falling leaves.

And then he saw them.

At the very end of the path, where the garden narrowed into a covered gazebo, hidden between thick hedges. A quiet place. A place one chooses not to be seen.

Toto was standing before Victoria, wrapping her in his arms.

His hands rested tightly on her hips. He leaned in, whispered something into her ear. In Polish — Lewis couldn't understand a word. But he didn't need to.

Victoria laughed softly. Her head tilted slightly, as if to feel his breath. And then... she nestled into him. As if she already knew that gesture, as if it belonged only to them. Her hands came to rest on his chest. She smiled at him. Quietly. Carefree. With eyes full of tenderness Lewis had never seen in her with anyone else.

Toto kissed the top of her head.

Then his lips slid to her temple. To the curve of her ear. Down to her neck.

He kissed her slowly. Reverently. His lips traced her skin as if he knew every millimeter by heart. His hands tightened around her waist. He pulled her closer to his body — solid and tense.

And she... gave in. Without fear. With all of herself. She closed her eyes and sighed softly, resting her head on his shoulder.

Then Toto said something else. In Polish.

Lewis didn't understand, but he saw.

Victoria opened her eyes and looked at him with such emotion that Lewis felt breathless.

It wasn't flirtation. It wasn't desire. It was love. Absolute. Irrevocable.

Toto leaned down and kissed her on the lips. Long. Quiet. Unhurried.

They were there as if no one else existed in the world. Frozen in a moment when love was too big to be hidden any longer.

Lewis turned and walked away in silence. With a heavy heart. With the feeling that he had just witnessed something... he was never meant to see.

But he never forgot.

Now, as he looked at her, his heart clenched.

She wasn't that girl in the garden anymore. There was no light in her eyes. Only emptiness.

And he knew why. He knew Toto had chosen Susie. That Susie was pregnant. That the story had ended before it could ever truly begin.

And he also knew that Victoria would never have entangled herself with a married man — not unless she had been given something more.

Words. Promises. Assurances that it wasn't just a game.

Toto must have given her something. Something that made her believe. And now... she stared at a blank screen as if it were a grave.

Lewis lifted his gaze. Met Toto's eyes from across the table. Their stares locked for a moment. And Lewis saw everything in his eyes: regret, fear, despair.

But he had no sympathy left for him. Because in that silent clash of glances, he told him without words:

You did this. You broke her. And now watch as she falls apart.

***

For a long time, Victoria couldn't explain what kept her anchored to this world.

Not in a poetic sense. Not metaphorically. She truly didn't know what still held her together. Maybe it was the engine's growl beneath her fingertips, the mechanical heartbeat that drowned out her own. Maybe it was the ritual of race weekends — the rhythm of packing, briefing, driving, falling, rising.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was Lewis.

Lewis, who never asked for more than she could give. Lewis, who didn't pry or press, who didn't wrap her in pity. Lewis, who simply stayed.

He wasn't a savior. He didn't try to be. He didn't come bearing answers or promises of healing.

But he was there after every race — whether she stood triumphant on the podium or disappeared into the back of the garage, shoulders heavy with failure.

And over time, something in her began to soften.

She let a few words escape. Then a few more. She smiled — fleetingly, cautiously — as if afraid that joy might shatter her if it lingered too long. She met his eyes and no longer looked through him. There was presence. Weight. Fragility.

"Let's do something stupid," he said one day with that reckless sparkle only he could wear with grace. "Something that rips you out of this cage you've built around yourself."

She blinked. "Lewis... I'm not in the mood for 'stupid'."

"That's exactly why we need to do it."

And because he said we — not you — she didn't say no.

A few days later, they were airborne in a helicopter, skimming the coastline, blades slicing the sky. She sat beside him, pale, silent, but strangely serene. Like a porcelain figure just before the crack. He, on the other hand, was grinning — alive in a way she hadn't felt in months.

Then came the edge. The wind clawed at their suits, cold and relentless.

She hesitated. He took her hand — strong, steady.

"We jump together," he said, gaze locked on hers. "If you don't let go now... I'll never let go again."

She didn't speak. She didn't have to.

They jumped.

The scream was torn from her throat by instinct, not fear. The air punched the breath from her lungs, leaving her weightless in a suspended moment between sky and soil.

No past. No future. Only now — a rushing void, terrifying and perfect. Time held its breath. When they landed, she crumpled into the grass.

Her laughter came in uncontrollable waves, raw and breathless. Her hair danced around her face, wild and free, and her cheeks were wet — not from fear, but release.

Relief.

"Thank you," she whispered through trembling lips. "I don't remember the last time I felt anything... real."

And something in her shifted.

She began to return. Not all at once. There were no miracles. But there were signs — small, sacred, almost imperceptible. She started eating again — not because she had to, but because she wanted the taste of life back. She fell asleep without nightmares. She spoke more. Listened more. She no longer looked at the track like a battlefield. It became a canvas again. A place where her soul could breathe.

And through it all, Lewis remained.

He took her to the lake at dusk. They sat by the water until the stars blinked awake.He tried to teach her the guitar, even though he played like a tone-deaf child — and she laughed more at his grimaces than his chords. He brought her little gifts — her favorite snacks, a worn book from a secondhand shop, a playlist he made just for her. He took photos of her smiling when she thought no one saw and sent them to her later with captions like: "Proof of life. Proof of light."

He was careful. Patient. Loyal.

But even Lewis — ever watchful, ever kind — could see the shadow had not vanished. Because when Susie entered the paddock — glowing, peaceful, her belly swelling with new life — something inside Victoria turned to stone.

There was no rage anymore. No envy. Just... absence. As if someone had switched off the lights inside her and locked the door.

Susie tried. She invited Victoria for coffee. For lunch. She told her stories about Jack, about pregnancy cravings, about how the entire team rooted for her. She wore warmth like armor, trying to reach the woman she once saw as a friend, maybe even as family.

But Victoria had drifted too far. She smiled politely. Replied with one-word answers. And then she vanished behind doors no one could open.

Susie felt it. The chill. The silence. The growing distance that no small talk could bridge. And slowly, her intuition sharpened. She began to know.

Lewis knew too.

He saw the way Victoria sometimes stared toward the far end of the paddock — where he stood.

Toto.

When she thought no one watched, her gaze found him. And in that gaze, Lewis saw it all — the pain she couldn't bury, the love she wouldn't admit, the yearning that tore at her with every heartbeat.

But never hope. There was never hope in her eyes. And that hurt Lewis the most. Because his own heart had begun to beat for her in ways he hadn't expected. It wasn't a crush. It wasn't pity.

It was something more. Quiet. Steady. True.

But she wasn't his. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Still, he stayed.

Because sometimes, love doesn't need to be returned. It doesn't demand. It doesn't plead. It waits. And in its waiting, it becomes something holy.

Lewis knew he might always be the one who picked her up off the floor. The one who made her laugh when she forgot how. The one who gave and gave without asking anything in return.

And maybe that was enough.

Because sometimes... A love that asks for nothing is the one that saves everything.

Monaco, the Wolffs' apartment, evening

Their apartment was bathed in the warm glow of lamps and a silence that, for weeks, had carried something difficult to name.

Susie sat on the terrace, wrapped in a blanket, a mug of herbal tea in her hands. Her belly rose and fell gently with her breath. She gazed at the sea—calm, boundless—and could no longer pretend she didn't see what had long been pulsing between Toto's words.

Toto stepped quietly out of his study. He looked at her, as always—with care, with gentleness, but also with something else. A shadow he could no longer hide.

"Will you sit?" she asked softly.

He nodded and sat beside her. For a moment, only silence remained, broken by the distant murmur of the waves.

"Do you remember when I told you a woman feels before she understands?" she began gently, her eyes still fixed on the horizon.

Toto stiffened. He knew. His heart froze.

"I've felt it for a long time, Toto. Your unease. Those glances you didn't want me to see. The silence at night. I felt it all. And then I started watching her," she continued. "Victoria."

She paused. Only after a moment did she add, more quietly:

"And I saw how much your silence hurt her."

Toto looked away, his gaze falling to his hands. He didn't deny it. He didn't have to.

"There was something between you, wasn't there?"

"Yes," he whispered after a long pause. "But it's over now."

Susie finally looked him in the eyes. In them was kindness. And deep sorrow.

"And your heart? Is it still there?"

Toto tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. At last, he nodded—barely.

Susie sighed.

"She fell in love with you. I know it. I saw how she closed herself off, how she stopped looking at me, at Jack... at you. And not so long ago, she felt like part of our family. Victoria wouldn't have thrown herself into this unless you gave her hope, Toto."

She fell silent. Then added:

"I'm not throwing it in your face. I'm not accusing you. But I want you to know one thing."

She looked straight into his eyes.

"This child... our family... it shouldn't be a choice made out of guilt. If you're here only because you have to be, and not because you want to be—we're building our house on sand. And we'll both be crushed beneath it."

Toto bowed his head.

"I love you, Susie. I always will. But... what I felt for her... it never happened to me before. Not like that."

"I know," she said gently. "But it's over now. Because if you can't be with her in the light of day... then you don't truly stand behind that feeling."

Susie stood. She placed her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not asking whether you'll love me like you once did. I'm only asking... will you be honest. For this child. For yourself. For me and for our family."

Toto looked at her, tears in his eyes. He nodded.

"I will."

"Good," she said quietly. "Because one thing I know for sure."

She paused.

"She... didn't deserve to suffer in silence for someone else's loyalty."

She left him on the terrace. And he... for the first time, felt that everything he loved now lay on opposite sides of the same abyss.

And no decision would save everyone anymore.

-----------

Next -> Chapter 12: Blue Jeans

-----------

24 notes · View notes

whiteraven87 · 9 days ago

Text

The Flame That Never Fades - chapter 10 - Summertime Sadness (10/16)

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

====================

my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

====================

chapters until now:

Prologue 1: Middle of the Night 2: Frozen 3: Shameless 4: Lilith 5: Ruthless 6: The Machine 7: Ride 8: No One Like You 9: Sad Girl 10: Summetime Sadness

============================

Chapter 10: Summertime Sadness

Kiss me hard before you go Summertime sadness I just wanted you to know That baby, you're the best Summertime Sadness - Lana Del Ray

The house was hidden. A small white building with a terrace opening straight onto a private beach, where the waves rolled against the shore in a steady, soothing rhythm. No neighbors. No cameras. No news to break the illusion.

Just them.

Toto and Victoria.

On the first morning, she woke up naked, his arm under her head and his hand resting on her stomach. He was breathing peacefully, and his face—usually tense and focused—was relaxed. Victoria traced his jawline with her fingers, then gently kissed his shoulder. He didn't open his eyes, but a faint smile tugged at his lips as his hand slid lower—between her thighs, with full awareness.

They began the day slowly, in bed. Their bodies wrapped around each other in a familiar, lazy rhythm. Toto kissed her neck and whispered in Polish:

"Only you... only here... Don't run from me..."

And she didn't want to run anymore. Not now.

Later, they drank coffee on the terrace. Victoria wore his shirt, buttoned just enough. She walked barefoot, hair tousled, smelling of sleep and sun. Toto watched her as if he couldn't believe she was real.

"If you looked like this in the garage, half the team would lose their minds," he murmured, resting his chin on his hand.

"Good thing they only see me in a suit, holding charts," she smiled. "You're the one who gets me like this. Only you."

He kissed her hand.

"And I want more. Only more."

They spent the afternoon on the beach. Victoria ran through the water, laughing, wet and carefree, her face turned toward the sun. Toto watched her like he was thirty again. Like life still had room for joy.

Then he caught her in the water—his strong arms wrapped around her from behind, kisses landing on her neck, her shoulders. Victoria laughed, but fell silent when his hands slipped beneath her wet bikini, and he whispered into her ear:

"Let me show you how much you're mine."

They made love that day on the sand. Slowly. Beneath the open sky. Without fear. Her hips rising to meet him again and again, eyes closed, fingers digging into his shoulders. She moaned his name, her voice swept away by the waves, and he looked at her like she was a miracle.

That evening, they played chess on the terrace with wine. Toto lost—on purpose—just to watch Victoria lean across the table, kiss him teasingly, and whisper:

"Punishment?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I won't let you sleep tonight."

And he didn't.

They fell asleep only at dawn, tangled, naked, their skin scented with the sea and each other. Victoria curled against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

And Toto, stroking her back, whispered:

"I don't know how to go back to life after you."

And she, quietly, uncertainly, replied:

"Maybe you don't have to go back yet."

And that night, for the first time in a long time, they both truly believed that this dream might last a little longer.

***

The night was quiet, warm, soaked in the scent of the sea and whispers that meant more than any word ever could. In the bedroom of the house by the beach, candlelight still danced on the walls, and their bodies, entwined, moved in a rhythm that belonged to them alone.

Toto was deep inside her, holding her hands pinned above her head, his gaze locked on her face. They moved slowly, with a tenderness that was almost painful. There was no madness in it, no desire flung against the walls — there was focus. Closeness. Pure feeling.

Victoria looked into his eyes, open, stripped bare in every layer — not just her body. She whispered his name over and over like a prayer. His movements were deep, unhurried, gentle — taking her to the edge only to pull her back again, stretching the moment to its very limit.

And when their bodies tensed, when they both trembled as the wave of release approached — he looked into her eyes and whispered:

"I love you."

At first, she thought she had imagined it. That maybe it was her own heart whispering the words in her mind. But he didn't look away. He stayed within her. Deep. Steady. And repeated:

"I love you, Vici..."

And then her body exploded. The orgasm tore through her from the inside, washing over every muscle in waves, and he climaxed with her, his forehead pressed to hers, his mouth near her ear, whispering:

"I've never loved anyone like this... Never. You are everything."

When they collapsed together, wrapped in whispers and shivers, he held her and drew her close with a force that said more than words ever could. He kissed her hair, her temple, her cheek.

"I've destroyed everything I knew," he murmured, "but I can't bring myself to regret it. Because if this sin is with you... I want to live in it until the end."

She cried. Quietly. With a soft smile on her lips.

"I've loved you always," she whispered, curled into his arms. "But I thought you'd never look at me through anything but the dark."

"And now I can't see anything but you."

They stayed like that. Unrushed. In touch. In truth.

And though they knew the world beyond would pull them apart again — that night, there was only one thing: love.

Naked. Real. Spoken for the very first time.

***

The morning by the ocean felt like it belonged to another world. Quiet, calm, warm — as if time had stopped for a moment, as if fate had granted them one last window through which they could glimpse what their life could be.

Victoria woke first. She lay curled against Toto's chest, his arm wrapped around her waist, his breath deep and even. She ran her hand gently across his sternum, up his neck, along the line of his jaw, then brushed his lips with a kiss so soft it felt more like a sigh.

Toto opened his eyes.

"Good morning, my love," he whispered, his voice still husky with sleep.

Her heart skipped a beat. He had never said it like that before. With such certainty. With no hesitation.

"Good morning, my world..." she replied.

They lay in silence, listening to the waves, before Toto shifted, propped himself up on one elbow, and looked into her eyes.

"Vici..." he said, calm but with weight, "when we return... I'm going to talk to Susie."

Her eyes widened, as if trying to understand if she'd heard him correctly.

"What?"

"I can't keep living a lie. I can't go home, look her in the eye, and keep hiding that... that my heart already belongs somewhere else. To you."

He paused for a moment.

"I'll ask for a divorce. With respect. Without drama. Susie deserves the truth. And even though I'll hurt her... I know, deep down, she already senses it."

"Toto..." her voice trembled, "but... what about the team? The media? The world will explode. It'll be a storm."

He leaned down and kissed her shoulder gently.

"We don't have to tell the world right away. You'll still be the driver, I'll still be the boss. We'll stay professional. And when the dust settles... we won't have to hide anymore."

Victoria looked at him in disbelief as tears slowly spilled down her cheeks.

"You really... want to be with me?"

Toto cupped her face in his hands.

"I am with you. I have been, for a long time. I just didn't have the courage to admit it before. But now... I don't want to wake up without you anymore. I don't want moments. I want all of you. Your fire. Your soul."

"And Susie? Jack?"

"They'll always be part of my life. I'll care for them. I'll always be present — as a father, as a man. But not as a husband. That part is over. And even though it will hurt... I can't pretend anymore that I don't love you."

Victoria covered her mouth with her hand, tears now flowing freely — not from sadness, but from relief. From joy that was bursting through her, too vast to contain.

"I love you," she said, her voice trembling. "Toto... I love you so much, it hurts sometimes. But now... now it hurts less."

He kissed her. Long. Tenderly. Deeper than ever before.

Then he lay over her again, slowly, brushing his fingers across her skin as though every inch of her was sacred.

"You're mine. My future. My heart. My woman. And no one will ever give you what I give you now."

They made love for a long time. Unhurried. Without boundaries. Toto whispered to her all through the night:

"I love you."

"You're beautiful."

"There's no life now without you and me."

And Victoria — with every wave of pleasure, every kiss, every tremble of his body inside her — felt, for the first time in her life... that she truly belonged.

Not to the world. Not to the team.

To him.

Monaco, September, two days later

The apartment in Monaco looked exactly as he had left it. Clean, spacious, warm. It smelled of citrus and lavender. As he stepped inside, Toto heard Jack's laughter coming from the terrace. Susie was in the kitchen, smiling, glowing in a summer dress, her hair down, a glass of mint water in her hand.

"You're here!" she called out and immediately came over, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "God, I missed you so much..."

Toto kissed her forehead. Automatically. As if his body remembered the gesture, but his heart... was somewhere else.

"I wanted to talk to you," he began, gently, calmly.

But Susie lifted her hand and laughed softly, eyes sparkling, as if she could no longer hold the secret inside.

"Wait... me first! Because if I don't say it now, I'll burst..."

Toto froze. He saw that glint in her eyes. He knew it. It was joy. True, pure joy.

"I'm pregnant."

And at those words... everything inside him stopped.

Time. Breath. Thought.

His heart pounded like a bell. His head filled with static. And under his feet... the ground vanished.

"What?" he whispered, as if unsure he'd heard correctly.

"Yes. I checked a few times. And I saw the doctor. Everything looks good. It's still early, but... Toto, we're pregnant." She took his hands, squeezing them with hope. "Jack's going to have a sibling. We're going to be a complete family again, right?"

He looked at her—smiling, radiant with happiness.

And he felt his heart crack in half.

The rest of the conversation blurred. Nods. Half-smiles. Assurances like "that's wonderful," "I'm happy," "we'll need to plan the appointments."

But inside him... there was only silence. A crushing, tomb-like silence.

Later, he sat alone in his office, hands clasped behind his neck, staring into nothing.

He had a plan. He had the words. He had the courage to leave. And he had Victoria.

But now... he couldn't. Not after this. Not when Susie was carrying their child. When Jack would have a sibling. When the family was about to become whole again.

That was his duty. His loyalty. His home.

And though his heart was screaming for her—for Victoria, for her eyes, for her whispers, for all those times she had said I love you—he knew he had to stay.

Because Susie wasn't just his wife. She was the mother of his children. The woman who had trusted him through everything. And though their love no longer burned as it once had—it was still a foundation.

And Victoria... would have to become his hidden wound. Unhealed. Alive.

He stood and reached for his phone.

He wrote the message he feared most:

> "We need to talk. Tonight." <

He stared at the screen.

And he understood: the story they had wanted to write together... had just changed its ending.

And his heart... would remain on both sides of that torn world.

-----------

Next -> Chapter 11: Un-break My Heart

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21 notes · View notes

whiteraven87 · 11 days ago

Text

The Flame That Never Fades - chapter 9 - Sad Girl (9/16)

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

====================

my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

====================

chapters until now:

Prologue 1: Middle of the Night 2: Frozen 3: Shameless 4: Lilith 5: Ruthless 6: The Machine 7: Ride 8: No One Like You 9: Sad Girl

============================

Chapter 9: Sad Girl

Being a mistress on the side It might not appeal to fools like you Creeping around on the side Would not be something you would do But you haven't seen my man You haven't seen my man (…) He's got the fire and he walks with it He's got the fire and he talks with it His bonny on the side, bonny on the side Makes me a sad sad girl His money on the side, money on the side Makes me a sad sad girl I'm a sad girl… Sad Girl - Lana Del Ray

One week later, Miami Grand Prix – Saturday night, Mercedes hotel

Since arriving in Miami, Victoria had consistently avoided Toto.

During debriefings – she stayed silent. In the paddock – she focused only on data. Even after a brilliant qualifying session that earned her P2, she didn't look at him once. She accepted congratulations from the team with a cool smile and disappeared into the elevator before Toto could get close.

But he knew. He knew he could no longer pretend it didn't hurt. He couldn't bear the coldness in her eyes, the silence that echoed even in his dreams.

That evening, he paced the hotel corridor for a long time before finally knocking on her door.

Once. Twice. Silence.

He was about to walk away when he heard the lock turn. The door opened slowly.

She stood in the doorway. Wearing his old hoodie, her long blonde hair loose, eyes tired and glassy.

"What do you want, Toto?"

"To talk. Please."

She didn't reply. She stepped aside in silence, letting him in.

He closed the door. His heart pounded like it had the first time he walked into her hotel room in Abu Dhabi.

"Why are you running from me?"

"Because I can't do this anymore," she said immediately, her voice trembling. "Because it's tearing me apart, Toto. Because every moment and night with you, every touch, every second... is an illusion. And I don't want illusions anymore."

He fell silent. Looked at her as if someone had just pulled the ground out from beneath him.

"Victoria..."

"No, let me finish," she whispered, stepping closer, placing her hand on his chest.

"You always go back to her. And that's okay. Susie is your life, Jack is your child, your home. And me?"

She looked into his eyes.

"I'm just a moment. A breath between lies. A lover you hold in the dark and pretend doesn't exist in the daylight. And I know, I know you never promised me anything. You told me you wouldn't love me. That you'd choose Susie. But I... I still hoped. Because I'm an idiot, Toto."

She began to cry. Quietly, without shaking. Tears so deep they could no longer be held back.

"Every night, you go back to her. You fall asleep beside her. You look at her the way you'll never look at me. With love. With devotion. With tenderness. And I... I waited. I always waited."

Toto trembled. He stepped forward slowly. Took her face in his hands.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered.

"But you'll never be mine. I'll never be your first thought, your first choice. I'll never be... your home."

"Don't say that..." His voice broke. "I... I don't know what's happening to me. I've never wanted anyone like I want you. No one's ever been so... mine."

Then he kissed her. Not like before. Not with hunger or urgency. But with tenderness. With despair. With a love he didn't know how to name. Their lips met softly, lingeringly, delicately.

His hands slid to her waist. She clung to him as if she never wanted to let go.

He lifted her. Without a word.

He laid her gently on the bed, as if she were made of porcelain. Unzipped her hoodie. Took off her pants. Parted her knees.

Entered her slowly, deeply, never breaking eye contact. No rush. No anger.

Just them. Breath to breath. Heart to heart.

"Beautiful..." he whispered in Polish, kissing her forehead. "Mine. Only mine. No one will ever touch you the way I do."

"I love you," she whispered. "Only you."

He made love to her for a long time, with a gentleness they had never shared before.

And when they reached the peak together, trembling, Toto whispered:

"You're everything I have... in the shadows. And I can't leave you."

She wrapped her arms around him, closed her eyes. And for a moment, she pretended that the shadows were her home.

***

The morning came too soon, but for the first time, it didn't mean the end.

Victoria lay still, her head resting against Toto's bare chest. His hand lay on her hip—calm, warm, familiar. Their legs were tangled beneath the thin blanket, skin to skin, breath to breath.

It was bright. The curtains hadn't been drawn, and the morning light poured into the room like a silent witness to the truth of their night. And yet—it didn't hurt. Not this time.

Because he had stayed.

He hadn't left afterward. He didn't put on his pants in a rush, didn't whisper "I have to go back" with his eyes fixed on the door.

He fell asleep beside her. Deeply. As if only here could he truly rest.

Victoria gazed at his face. Peaceful. Less tense than usual. A faint smile playing on his lips. As if this man, who held the whole world in his hands, had allowed himself to be weak in her arms.

She raised her hand and gently traced his jaw, the line of his brow, his hair. She felt his body respond slightly, as if he were dreaming something good.

Then his eyelids fluttered.

"You're here," she whispered before he was fully awake.

He looked at her. He didn't answer right away. He slid his hand along her back, pulled her closer, until their bodies met again, slowly, naturally, as if they had done this for years.

"I didn't want to leave," he said softly, in Polish. "I couldn't... not tonight."

She closed her eyes. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"I was afraid you'd never stay."

"And I, that I wouldn't know how." He threaded his fingers through her hair. "But I don't want to keep running from what I feel, Victoria..."

She looked at him, trembling—though it wasn't just pain. It was hope. The shadow of love.

"But Susie..."

He sighed deeply. His eyes were tired.

"Susie is my home. But you... you're the fire that reminds me I'm still alive."

He brushed her lips. Gently. Tender, soft kisses, as if asking for forgiveness.

Then he whispered, with such tenderness it hurt:

"You are wild, beautiful. You're my sin. But also my refuge."

"Just for a moment?" she asked. "Or for more?"

He hesitated. Then held her tighter.

"I don't know. But today, you are mine. And no one will take you away."

She nestled into him. Without a word. She didn't want more. Not now. Because for the first time, he stayed. For the first time, they had fallen asleep entwined. And for the first time—he woke up next to her.

That was enough to feel that there was still something between them beyond the night.

Though they both knew that one day, the sun would rise again and take it all away.

But today... this morning was theirs.

***

The sun drifted lazily through the half-closed curtains, casting golden streaks over the white sheets and the bare shoulders of the woman lying beside him.

Victoria was fast asleep. Turned on her side, arm tucked under her cheek, lips slightly parted and brow faintly furrowed, as if even in sleep, something touched her too deeply. Her hair had fallen over her face, one strand moving with each breath.

Toto lay still, propped on his elbow, gazing at her in a way he never had before.

Not like a protégé. Not like a lover.

But like a woman who had turned his world upside down, making him, for the first time... afraid that this feeling might go further than he had ever planned.

He had only wanted her touch. Her surrender. Her body. Her warmth that soothed all his unrest. Just that. That's how he had justified it to himself.

But now, looking at her asleep in his arms after a night filled with tenderness and whispers, he felt something more. Something he didn't dare to name.

Because if he called it love... everything would fall apart.

He reached out and gently brushed the strand of hair from her face. She didn't stir. She only sighed softly, as if his touch had reached into her dream.

"My..." he whispered in Polish. "So beautiful. So real."

He closed his eyes for a moment. And then came the image of Susie — sitting at breakfast with Jack, her laughter, her warmth, that familiar scent of domestic safety. The family he loved. The one he had sworn loyalty to. Who trusted him without question.

Then he looked at Victoria again. With a stress-bitten nail, a tiny scar above her brow, and those eyes that held the pain of the whole world.

How was he supposed to stop wanting her?

How could he pull away, when her body seemed like the only place he could truly breathe?

He was afraid. Afraid of what was growing between them. Afraid that it would become harder and harder to return to his wife and look her in the eyes without comparing.

Victoria shifted and rolled onto her back. Her eyes opened—sleepy, gentle. And when they met his, there was no question, no regret, no demand.

Only one thing: you're still here.

Toto leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead. Then on her temple. Then briefly on her lips.

"Good morning, my wild soul."

"Let's not say good morning yet," she whispered.

"Let's stay a little longer... somewhere where no one else exists."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. For the first time, not out of desire. But out of fear that maybe he no longer knew how to live without her.

And she closed her eyes, nestled against his chest, listening to the rhythm of a heart that—though it beat in the name of another woman—this one night... beat only for her.

***

The day in Miami was sunny, loud, sticky with humidity and emotions lingering between the paddocks like the hidden scent of gasoline. Everyone was on the move—cameras, sponsors, engineers. No one noticed glances that lingered a fraction too long.

For the first time since it all began, something had changed.

Toto and Victoria walked side by side to the morning briefing, saying nothing. They kept their distance. They didn't touch. But they didn't need to. The silence between them was no longer just heavy—it was something more. Something that demanded to be acknowledged.

He looked at her differently. Not like a driver. Not like a woman he desired. But with something that broke his own rules.

Because that night, something inside him had opened. Something that no longer wanted to close.

During the briefing, Victoria sat with her head down, analyzing data on the tablet, offering sharp, professional insights that left no room for emotion.

But Toto saw.

He saw how she avoided his gaze. How her hands trembled—though no one else would notice. How she breathed deeper when he stood too close. And that she didn't call him "boss," not even with the usual irony.

When their eyes met, he drowned in hers—eyes he now knew better than his own hands. And she looked away. Not out of coldness. Out of fear.

Because now, it was different.

After the meeting, she was the first to leave. Slowly, as if every step weighed heavy.

Toto followed. He caught up to her only behind the paddock, where no one else was around.

"Victoria."

She stopped.

But she didn't turn around right away. She stood still, arms crossed over her chest. Then looked at him over her shoulder.

"We can't look at each other like that, Toto," she said quietly. "We can't breathe in the same room like this. Because if we do... I won't be able to walk away."

"What if I don't want you to walk away?"

"You never want me to walk away," she said with a bitter smile. "But you never want me to truly stay either."

He fell silent.

"You think nothing changed after that night. But it did," she whispered. "You stayed with me until morning. You looked at me differently. You touched me like you knew me... like you loved me. And then... you put the suit back on. The mask. The role of husband and father."

She took a step back.

"So we have to learn how to breathe again. I... have to. Because you can go back to your world. And I'm just the air between your breaths."

And she walked away. Not abruptly. Not dramatically. Quietly. With dignity.

But every step tore Toto apart from the inside.

He stood there for a long time, heart caught in his throat.

Because he realized that... he had truly fallen in love. With her. With this young, fiery woman.

And it might already be too late to fix it.

Miami, late evening

The warm glow of streetlights trickled through the curtains, casting golden patches on the hotel room walls. Victoria sat in the armchair by the window, wearing a thin shirt and underwear. She stared into the distance—not at the sky, not at the city, but into herself.

And then... there was a knock.

She opened the door slowly. He was standing there. In a white shirt, the top two buttons undone. His eyes held a shadow of unease, but also something else—an unhidden, urgent need.

"Please don't go..." he said quietly.

She didn't answer with words. She simply stepped aside to let him in.

He closed the door behind him, then just stood there, gazing at her as if trying to memorize every detail. He stepped closer. And then, he simply embraced her—tightly. As if it was all he needed.

Their kiss was like the first dive into deep water—calm, yet full of tension. He kissed her long and gently, his lips exploring hers, his tongue softly teasing. Her body responded instantly. She trembled under his touch, desire rising within her with every second.

He slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her shoulders, her breasts, her belly. He looked at her as if she were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He slid her underwear off, knelt before her, and kissed the inside of her thigh—slowly, reverently. Then... his tongue traced upward, touching her exactly where she trembled the most.

Victoria tangled her fingers in his hair, her hips lifting slightly. A breath escaped her lips as his tongue drew a circle, then another—slower, deeper. She whispered his name, breathless, and he didn't stop. He worshipped her with his mouth, his hands, until her body unraveled in a long, shuddering climax.

But that was only the beginning.

He rose. Looked into her eyes. Slipped off his shirt, then his trousers. He was hard, ready, trembling with need. And when he entered her—slowly, deeply—they both went still. For a moment, they just were. Not moving. Just looking into each other, as if seeking answers in their gaze.

Then he began to move. Rhythmically. Intuitively. With tenderness that felt like music—building, pulsing, lifting them higher and higher. He whispered into her ear words she didn't fully understand, but felt with every part of her being:

"So beautiful..."

"My... fiery girl..."

And she was completely his. She trembled beneath him, met every movement, her body rising and falling with his. Orgasm after orgasm crashed over her in waves of pleasure, tearing her open and soothing her at once. She cried with longing and fulfillment, and he kissed her tears, never stopping.

When they finally reached their climax together, she cried out his name, and he collapsed onto her, still inside, his forehead resting at her neck, his hands over her heart.

They stayed like that. In silence. In truth.

"I don't want to pretend anymore," he whispered after a while. "Not tonight."

"And tomorrow?"

He was silent.

Then, cautiously, he looked into her eyes.

"Come with me. For a few days. Just us. There's a place—a private beach, a house. No one will find us. No one will have to pretend this isn't real."

"And Susie?"

He shut his eyes tightly.

"I'll tell her I have a business trip. A meeting with an investor. She... she won't ask. She's always trusted me."

Victoria remained quiet for a long time. She felt the weight of those words. Their price.

"So we're lying," she said softly. "But for these few days... I want you to be only mine."

"I will be," he whispered. "I swear it. Only yours."

He kissed her again. Gently. Slowly.

And for the first time, Victoria allowed herself to dream that maybe this moment could last a little longer than just the night.

-----------

Next -> chapter 10: Summertime Sadness

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28 notes · View notes

whiteraven87 · 11 days ago

Text

The Flame That Never Fades - chapter 8 - No One Like You (8/16)

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

====================

my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

====================

chapters until now:

Prologue 1: Middle of the Night 2: Frozen 3: Shameless 4: Lilith 5: Ruthless 6: The Machine 7: Ride 8: No One Like You

============================

Chapter 8: No One Like You

There's no one like you I can't wait for the nights with you I imagine the things we'll do I just want to be loved by you No One Like you - J2, Coleen McMahon (Scorpions cover)

One week later, July, Monaco

The evening was perfect. Gleaming floors in a marble ballroom, golden flutes, camera flashes, white tablecloths, and classical music drifting from the stage. The official Mercedes banquet in Monaco, with sponsors, journalists, and the Mercedes board in attendance. Everyone in tailored suits, gowns, and carefully curated smiles.

It was a night for the media, for the image, for the perfect portrait of a team — harmonious, victorious, and impeccably polished.

Victoria entered the room in a gown of deep navy, with an off-the-shoulder neckline and an open back, the fabric flowing with every step like a wave. Her hair was pinned high, her face delicately defined. When she appeared, the room went silent for a split second.

She wasn't just a driver.

She was a vision.

Toto looked at her immediately. Even though his hand rested on Susie's back — Susie, who was smiling politely at the hosts — his gaze locked onto Victoria and refused to let go.

For a moment, he forgot who he was. What he was doing. Who he came with.

She saw it. Felt his eyes pierce straight through her. She pretended not to notice. She chatted with technicians, laughed with the head of PR. But all the while... she felt him.

Every muscle in her body was aware of him.

***

Victoria stood by one of the tall cocktail tables with a glass of champagne barely brushing her lips. Her skin glowed softly under the lights. When she moved, she looked like a dream.

And then she felt him approaching. She didn't need to look.

Toto.

Susie walked beside him, dressed in classic white with a delicately cut neckline and the smile of a woman who knew her place in the world and had nothing to prove. Toto wore a flawless tuxedo, a spark in his eyes, his hand resting easily on his wife's back. But his eyes...

His eyes already belonged to someone else.

"Victoria," Susie said warmly, clearly fond of her. "You look absolutely stunning. Right, darling?" she added, turning to Toto with a smile.

He opened his mouth as if to say something but hesitated. He looked at Victoria as though searching for words that wouldn't give too much away.

"Yes," he said finally, softly. "You look... beautiful."

Their eyes met for just a fraction of a second. But in that brief moment, everything still hanging between them passed through — the unspoken "stay," the unvoiced "I miss you," the hidden "I'm sorry."

Victoria raised the corner of her mouth with composure, with the grace of an actress.

"Thank you. It's been a long day. I thought I'd collapse after the race... but the dress won." She joked lightly, glancing at Susie.

"Not just the dress," Susie replied with a glint in her eye. "Your result today... phenomenal. Toto was deeply impressed."

At that, Victoria looked straight into his eyes.

Much longer than was appropriate.

"I'm glad the boss is pleased," she said softly, smiling into his gaze. "I always try not to disappoint him. To meet all his expectations..."

Toto looked away first. Took a sip of champagne, as if that might help.

It didn't.

Susie gracefully changed the subject, completely unaware of the game playing out right beside her.

"We really need to make plans. Jack still talks about you, you know? Asks when Auntie Vici is coming again. I think a family getaway would be perfect. Maybe Austria? The Alps? Jack would be over the moon."

Victoria smiled lightly, but something inside her trembled.

A family trip. With them.

With their world, in which she was nothing more than a shadow.

"That sounds wonderful, truly." She nodded. "Though I can't promise anything —the season is so intense, it's hard to find time even to sleep... But if I can, I'll try."

She knew she wouldn't go. That she couldn't.

That if she saw them together one more time — in their natural world, full of the little everyday gestures she'd never receive — she'd break.

"Promise you'll stay in touch," Susie added with a smile, squeezing her hand.

Victoria nodded, and as Susie and Toto walked a few steps away, she turned around and took a deep breath, setting her glass down on the table.

The champagne was cold.

But not as cold as the loneliness that always returned whenever she came face to face with his world.

***

The orchestra began playing something slower. The strings drew out the notes tenderly, as if trying to stretch the moment just a little longer. The first dancers stepped onto the floor.

Victoria was still standing by the table, champagne in hand, though the drink had long since lost its taste. With every second, the dress she wore felt more like armor — shimmering, but unbearably heavy.

Then she saw them.

Toto and Susie.

They danced close. Gracefully, effortlessly. His hand rested on her waist, the other clasping her fingers. They looked at each other with the tenderness of two people who shared a life.

They laughed.

And it was that laugh that hurt the most.

Victoria turned away. Her fingers tightened around the glass. She couldn't watch — and yet she couldn't not watch.

Toto looked like he belonged there. Like that was where he truly fit. Not with her. Not in secret touches and whispered words in the dark.

That's when Lewis appeared beside her.

"You look like you're about to take down one of those chandeliers," he said with a roguish grin. "Come on, before you actually do. Dance with me."

She looked at him, surprised but grateful.

She offered her hand. Said nothing.

They stepped onto the dance floor. Victoria wasn't the type of woman who danced often — but tonight, she let herself.

Lewis held her lightly by the waist, leading with quiet confidence. And she allowed herself to be led. For a moment, everything else disappeared.

But Toto saw.

From the other end of the room, over Susie's shoulder, he didn't take his eyes off them.

Watching Lewis smile. Watching Victoria smile back — a little too softly. Watching her body move with a grace and ease he had never dared to give her in public.

He felt fire. A burning jealousy. Instinctive, primal, painful.

Susie said something to him, laughing gently, but he only nodded, not hearing a word. His mind was with the woman who was dancing in another man's arms. He couldn't take it.

When the music stopped, and Victoria curtsied gracefully before Lewis, Toto was already there.

"Victoria," he said in a formal tone — but with that undercurrent only she could recognize.

"Could we have a word? About... the car's balance. It won't take long."

Lewis looked at her, curious. Victoria glanced at Toto. At his perfectly tailored tuxedo, his tense jaw, and the gaze fixed on her like a blade.

She nodded.

"Of course."

She didn't say a word as she followed him through a narrow marble corridor. They passed the kitchen, storage rooms, service doors. Finally, they stepped into a small, empty storeroom — it smelled of wood, wine, and dust.

The door closed quietly behind them, but with a thunderous echo in their chests.

"What is this about?" she asked coldly, crossing her arms. "The car's balance? Or the fact you couldn't bear someone else touching me?"

Toto froze.

"I couldn't watch you dancing with Lewis. Laughing... like it meant something more."

"Because it could've," she snapped. "Because for a few minutes, I felt like I was the only one for someone. Not a secret kept behind four walls."

Her voice was sharp.

"You hide me, Toto. Mostly from yourself."

"You don't understand..." He stepped closer. She didn't move an inch. "I... all of this is... complicated."

"No. It's simple. You have a home, a wife, a life. And I have you only when you forget yourself. When you need release. When something's missing. Then you go back to your perfect world — and leave me with the emptiness."

Her words hit him like blows. He clenched his fists.

"Don't say you don't matter."

"Then prove it. But not with a kiss. Not with sex. Not by looking at me like I'm air. Prove it with action. And if you can't—leave."

Their breaths were heavy. The air had thickened.

And then... Toto grabbed her violently. He kissed her like he wanted to destroy her — or save her.

And she surrendered. As always. He pushed her against the wall, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hands clung to the back of his neck, as if she had nothing left to lose.

Her dress slipped higher. His trousers were only in the way. He quickly unzipped. Their bodies came together with a desperation that couldn't be stopped. There were no words. Only the sounds of ragged breathing, wet kisses, and hips crashing against hips.

He whispered her name, and she squeezed her eyes shut, as if it was the last time she'd ever hear it.

They made love fast, greedily. Victoria's back scraped against the cold wall, his hands dug into her flesh. He was brutal and tender all at once. Hunger filled his breath. Longing filled her moans.

And when they reached the peak, him pressed against her, cheek resting by her neck, he whispered in Polish:

"You're so beautiful... You're mine... Only mine..."

When it was over, he slumped against her, still inside her, still holding her tightly, as if they could remain one just a bit longer.

The back room was quiet. Only their breath echoed against the cold walls.

Victoria nestled into Toto. Her bare body pressed against his chest, her arms locked tightly around him, as if she could stop time just by holding him.

He was still inside her. She could still feel him with her whole body — not just where he filled her, but in her chest, in the throbbing ache that tasted like longing.

She closed her eyes. Her cheek rested against his neck. He smelled of wine, expensive cologne, and himself — that scent she knew better than her own hands.

She held on tighter. Like a child. Like a woman who loved too deeply. Too long. She didn't say a word. But his heartbeat was right there, beneath her cheek, and for a moment, it was enough. Just for one goddamn fleeting "now."

Toto was silent. One hand stroked her back, the other braced against the wall behind her head. He was tense. His thoughts already elsewhere. He was pulling away, inch by inch.

She tightened her fingers around his neck. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she lifted her head. Her eyes were glassy, full of tears she didn't want — but that came anyway.

Because even though she was naked, wrapped around him entirely, she felt... abandoned. As if what had just happened was only a pause. Not a choice. Not love. A moment. Like any other.

Their faces were only millimeters apart. She searched his gaze — not physically, but deeper. In that place where he always hid the truth.

Her lips moved. Soundlessly. Breathlessly. They parted only faintly:

"I love you."

And again:

"I love you so damn much..."

But Toto didn't hear it. Or didn't want to.

Instead... he tensed, just slightly. As if her words — though silent — had still touched his skin. As if he knew. Felt them. But couldn't take them in.

He didn't answer. Didn't raise his hand to touch her cheek. Didn't whisper "me too."

He only leaned in and brushed her forehead with a tender kiss. One that could mean everything... or nothing. Just a ghost of warmth. Just a farewell.

"You look beautiful tonight," he murmured. His voice low, trembling, as if he truly meant it. As if, for a second, everything inside him screamed to stay.

But he didn't.

He let her go. Slowly stepped back. Slipped out of her with a sigh that sounded like goodbye, even if it wasn't spoken.

He fixed his shirt cuffs, zipped up his trousers. Smoothed his tuxedo, as if it could somehow wipe away what had just happened.

Victoria didn't move. She just sat, slumped against the wall, her dress draped around her hips, tears in her eyes. Staring at him. At the man she loved more than herself. The man she could never keep.

"I'm sorry... I have to go back."

And he went. Back to Susie.

He didn't look back as he left. As if nothing had happened. And she was left with the remnants of tenderness.

He closed the door quietly. Too quietly. As if he didn't want to leave a trace.

And Victoria... was left bare. Not of clothing. Not of touch. Bare of love. With his imprint on her thighs, his words in her mind.

She whispered to herself, barely audible:

"I love you so damn much."

But no one was there to hear it. And only then did she let the tears fall.

Because now she knew. Without doubt. Without hope. She would never be anything more to him. And something inside her broke.

Because there he was — going back to Susie, to a world of light, to a smile that belonged to everyone. And she... She returned to the shadows. To her hotel room. To cold pillows and a burning heart with nowhere left to go.

She left through the back exit. Without goodbye. Without a smile.

In silence.

Back in the hotel, she took off her dress slowly, as if peeling away the last remnants of illusion. She sat on the bed in just her underwear, staring out the window.

And she understood. He would never look at her the way he looked at Susie.

Not with love. Not with devotion. Not with the tenderness he gave to the other, real woman in his life.

And she... would only ever be an echo.

***

He left the back room quickly, still fastening the button of his jacket, his hair tousled, his body still throbbing from the intensity of that secret, urgent passion. No one stopped him. No one asked. No one saw.

But he had seen everything.

He could still feel her around him. Still feel how tightly she had held him from within. Hear how she had whispered his name, how her nails had dug into his shoulders. He felt how she had devoured him with her gaze — the same gaze that now refused to leave him in peace, even as he stepped back into the ballroom, walking toward the woman who was his world. His home.

Susie.

Susie waited at the table, speaking with a BBC journalist — smiling, elegant, commanding in that effortless way he had always admired in her.

When she saw him, her face lit up with warmth.

"You were gone a while. Everyone's been asking for you," she said lightly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "Everything alright?"

"Yes, just... a quick technical matter with Victoria. She knows her car better than some of the engineers," he replied calmly, as if he hadn't just walked out of a room where he shattered someone's soul.

She smiled more broadly.

"You look absolutely irresistible in that tuxedo, you know that?"

She kissed him on the cheek, then on his neck — barely noticeable. And he only nodded, offering a mechanical half-smile that once had been sincere.

When the banquet came to an end, Victoria was already gone.

He scanned the crowd for her — though he knew he shouldn't. He asked one of the junior engineers about her.

"I think she left just after dinner."

His heart froze. He knew why. He had seen it in her eyes, in that moment he slipped out of her body in the back room.

Something had broken in her.

In the car, as he and Susie drove to the hotel, he took out his phone and discreetly typed:

> "You left without a word. I know it's not fair, but... please, say something. T." <

He waited. But the phone remained silent.

At the hotel, Susie closed the door behind them and wrapped her arms around him from behind.

"I want you," she whispered into his ear, then began unbuttoning his shirt, kissing his neck and chest.

Toto looked at her. Saw her eyes — gentle, radiant, full of love.

She placed her hands on his chest and nudged him toward the bed.

He didn't refuse. He undressed her slowly. Kissed her, touched her, caressed her. Made love to her tenderly, familiarly, with a heart full of respect, with the care only she had ever known from him. She was soft, trusting, his.

But in his mind...

...in his mind was Victoria.

Her whisper, her trembling body, the dress sliding off her shoulders, the taste of her sweat on his tongue.

Her eyes — filled with pain and desire all at once. Her body wrapping around him in the darkness, trembling with longing, consumed by a hunger he had only ever known with her.

As he reached climax with Susie, he squeezed his eyes shut. And saw Victoria.

He said nothing. Only turned to his side afterward and held Susie close, kissing her shoulder like always.

But inside... he didn't sleep. Not that night.

And when morning came, he checked his phone again. The message was still unread.

Because one thing he knew for certain — He had crossed another line.

And maybe... there was no way back.

-----------

Next -> chapter 9: Sad Girl

-----------

20 notes · View notes

whiteraven87 · 12 days ago

Text

The Flame That Never Fades - chapter 7 - Ride (7/16)

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

====================

my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

====================

chapters until now:

Prologue 1: Middle of the Night 2: Frozen 3: Shameless 4: Lilith 5: Ruthless 6: The Machine 7: Ride

============================

Chapter 7: Ride

I've been out on that open road You can be my full time daddy White and gold Singing blues has been getting old You can be my full time baby Hot or cold Don't break me down I've been travelin' too long I've been trying too hard With one pretty song I hear the birds on the summer breeze I drive fast, I am alone in midnight Been tryin' hard not to get into trouble But I, I've got a war in my mind So, I just ride, just ride I just ride, just ride Ride - Lana Del Ray

After the Race

The lock clicked softly as Victoria shut the door behind her. Finally alone. The engine still roared in her bones. Her hands were trembling—not from exhaustion, but from emotion. From that unspoken mix of regret, anger, and... love that refused to fade, though it should have died long ago.

She pulled the top of her racing suit down, letting it fall to her hips. Standing in a sports bra, she rubbed the back of her neck. She leaned against the wall, head tilted back. Closed her eyes.

And then—knocking.

She wouldn't have mistaken that rhythm for anything else. She couldn't.

"Not now, Toto. Not after all this," she thought.

She clenched her jaw. Didn't answer. But a moment later—again: two knocks, quiet but firm.

She sighed bitterly.

"Come in."

The door opened. He stood there, outwardly calm as always, but his eyes gave him away. They were restless. Filled with something she no longer wanted to analyze. He closed the door behind him. Silent.

"Who did you come as, Toto?" she asked, dryly. "The boss who wants to tear me apart for reckless driving? Or the man who's about to fuck me on that damn table and then go back to his warm home and loving wife?"

He looked at her, thrown off balance. But she didn't wait for an answer.

"Because if it's the latter, then maybe let's just do it already," she continued, her voice breaking. "Maybe it'll pass quicker that way. Once you come inside me again and kiss me on the forehead like you love me. Like it means something. Like I'm more than just your... escape."

Silence. His face was tight. His hands clenched into fists.

"You always say I can walk away," she whispered. "That you'll leave me alone. But you never leave, Toto. You always come back. Every time. Because it turns you on. Because I'm the fire you don't have at home. But I'm not yours. I never will be."

At last, he moved. Stepped toward her. Hesitant.

"I'm not just your fucking pressure valve," her voice now shaking. "I'm not someone you can use at night and then button up your jacket in the morning and go back to being the perfect husband. Jack called me yesterday, Toto. He was so happy you're taking them on vacation. You know what I told him? That he's lucky. That you're the best dad in the world... And I... like a fucking idiot, love his father. I love you."

She looked him straight in the eyes. Without anger. Just with the pain that was burning her from within.

"And you? You don't even have the courage to answer me."

Toto stepped back. His lips moved, but no sound came out.

Victoria just nodded.

"Thought so."

She turned and walked to the bathroom. Her voice was quiet, almost lifeless:

"The door's not locked. But if you stay... tell me, just once, the truth. What I really am to you."

She closed the bathroom door. Didn't lock it. She waited.

***

Toto stood in the doorway, like he had no right to be there.

Maybe he didn't.

Victoria stood by the wall, her suit unzipped, half-naked—more bare from emotion than skin. She looked at him with coldness and pain all at once. And before he could say anything—she spoke.

Her words were like arrows. She didn't raise her voice, didn't dramatize. She spoke with a quiet rage that hurt more than any scream.

"Who did you come as, Toto? The boss who wants to scold me? Or the man who's about to fuck me on that goddamn table and then go back to his warm home and loving wife?"

He felt his heart drop. He said nothing. Because everything she said was true. Every word carved into his insides like a knife.

"Maybe it'll pass quicker that way. Once you come inside me again and kiss my forehead like you love me. Like it means something. Like I'm more than just your... escape."

Escape.

Yes, that's what she was. A harbor he turned to when everything else was too tight, too stifling, too reasonable.

But... he loved her. In his own way. Not the way she deserved. Not purely, not openly. But the way you love a flame. With fascination. With fear. With addiction.

"I'm not just your fucking safety valve. I'm not someone you can take at night and then, in the morning, button up your blazer and go back to being the ideal husband."

Pain swelled in his chest. Not physical. Deeper. Like every sentence sliced into the place where he had long hidden his conscience.

"And you? You didn't even have the courage to answer me."

And she was right.

Because when she told him she loved him, he didn't respond.

He couldn't. Because what was he supposed to say?

That he loved her too? That he dreamed about her? That he thought of her while falling asleep beside the woman who for years had been his world? That he missed her laughter, the sound of her screaming his name, the touch of her hand on his neck?

That he couldn't breathe when she wasn't there?

But he also couldn't walk away from her.

When Victoria stepped into the bathroom and left the door ajar, he stood still. He didn't move.

Her words echoed inside him like a refrain.

"The door's not closed. But if you stay... tell me the truth, just once. Who am I to you? Really."

He closed his eyes.

He saw her before him. Always ready to take him in. Heated, shaken, with a heart trembling like a drum. Always open. Even when she shouldn't be. Even when she knew she'd be left alone after. She always gave herself to him — not just her body. She gave her heart too, recklessly.

And he?

He took. Always took. Never offering anything lasting in return.

And only now did he understand that it wasn't about what he felt. It was about what he couldn't give her what she needed.

He stood. Mid-step. Mid-breath. Mid-truth.

And then he heard the water. The bathroom door was ajar.

He approached. Slowly. As if each step might shatter what little remained.

He stopped at the threshold. Victoria was standing by the sink, leaning against the marble countertop. Her shoulders bare, skin taut, still humming with the echo of adrenaline from the track. Her hair was slightly tousled, damp with sweat. In the mirror — their eyes met.

He — exhausted, eyes filled with unease.

She — undone, naked, but strong. As always.

"I was scared for you today," he said softly. "When I saw you drive... mercilessly. Without limits. As if nothing else existed. As if you wanted to vanish in that speed."

Her gaze quivered. But she didn't answer.

He took a step. Then another. Stopped behind her and leaned toward her slowly.

He didn't touch her yet — only spoke, just by her ear.

"Vici... I... It's not just desire. Not anymore. Maybe it never was. Today... when I almost lost you, I realized how damn much I care."

He kissed the nape of her neck. Gently, almost reverently. As if her skin was sacred and he had never truly honored it.

Her breath quickened.

Then he brushed his lips over her shoulder. Down the bend of her elbow. His fingers encircled her hips, pulling her lightly against him.

And she — as always — surrendered.

Because even if her heart was broken, it still beat for him.

She had waited for this moment. For every touch. Every whisper. Even if it was the last.

She unzipped the suit for him all the way. He pushed the fabric aside and parted her thighs. His hands ran over her legs, her stomach, her breasts — as if trying to memorize every inch of her.

And he entered her slowly, without a word.

There was no rush. No roughness.

Only breath. Silenced moans. Fingers clenching the marble. Their bodies joined in a silence neither dared to break.

Victoria tilted her head back, and his lips found her neck again.

"Will you..." he whispered with a trembling voice, not moving, still buried deep enough to feel her heartbeat, "Will you keep driving like that... on the edge?"

She was silent for a moment. Only their breaths echoed off the tiles.

"No," she answered softly.

"Good girl," he whispered.

And kissed her shoulder.

In that moment, in the twilight between pain and the illusion of tenderness — there was only them.

For a while. As always. They stood in silence.

Toto was still inside her, breathing heavily, as if this single act could strip the weight of the world off his shoulders. His hands held her hips, fingers digging lightly into her skin, as if he didn't want to let go. As if he wanted to stay a part of her for just a little longer.

Victoria closed her eyes. She knew this moment.

That half-breath when he hadn't yet pulled away, but his thoughts were already elsewhere.

In another home. With another woman. With Susie.

"I have to go," he whispered at last, almost apologetically, as if that could change anything.

He pulled away, and the cold instantly crept under her skin. He buttoned his trousers in silence.

Victoria still leaned on the counter, naked, burning, breath shaky, with emptiness blooming beneath her ribs.

She said nothing. Not anymore. Because any word would've been a plea — and she was done begging.

She stood up only once he disappeared behind the door.

She didn't look back to see him leave. She didn't want to see his back. The same back she loved to curl up against at night — the one that always moved away faster than she allowed herself to believe.

She sat on the bed. Quietly. Carefully. As if she didn't want to disturb the loneliness that had once again settled on her shoulders.

Her head dropped into her hands.

"Idiot," she thought.

An idiot who once again believed that maybe, this time, it would be different.

Because when he was with her — when he kissed her, whispered her name, came inside her with a quiet sigh that sounded like a prayer — in that moment, he was truly hers.

For that one cursed moment. For one trembling of the body, one kiss on the neck. For a second in which the whole world disappeared, and only they remained.

But then he always went back.

To his perfect life. To the wife who was his home. To the order that never had room for Victoria.

And she?

She was left with an empty bed. With the scent of his body on the sheets. With a silence she had to somehow survive.

And once again, she had to piece herself back together.

Without illusions. Without him.

Only with a heart that hurt more every time.

-----------

Next -> chapter 8: No One Like You

-----------

28 notes · View notes

whiteraven87 · 13 days ago

Text

The Flame That Never Fades - chapter 6 - The Machine (6/16)

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

====================

my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

====================

chapters until now:

Prologue 1: Middle of the Night 2: Frozen 3: Shameless 4: Lilith 5: Ruthless 6: The Machine

============================

Chapter 6: The Machine

Fell in love with the machine Fell in love with you I made something That'll love me Even when I'm wrong I made something that'll love me Even with my faults My faults Fell in love with a machine Fell in love with you Baby when we touch Feels like you were made to take all my love Something about you, I can't get enough Fell in love with a machine Fell in love with you The Machine - Reed Wonder, Aurora Olivas

Austrian GP, a few days later, June

His hand tightened on her hip, his movements rhythmic, strong — just the way he liked them. He led her with certainty, deep and unhesitating — his body knew every trembling spot on hers, every reaction to his pressure. With each passing moment, she felt herself falling apart, losing the ground beneath her feet, sinking deeper and deeper into him.

It was their ritual. Hidden, passionate, wild. Body to body. Breath to breath. She on his hand, his mouth, his hand again. He played her like a favorite melody — sometimes tender, sometimes with brutal fire.

After a successful qualifying, she was buzzing with emotion, lit up, triumphant. And he — he was her prize.

He had swept her off the hotel corridor barely an hour after the press conference. Threw her on the bed without a word and took her—as always—whole, hungry, greedy, guiding her through waves of orgasms that stole her voice and shattered her awareness.

Now she lay curled up against his body. Her fingers gliding over his chest, his back, while he was still inside her. Her legs wrapped around his hips, her head nestled in his neck, as if trying to hide from a world that didn't know them. She hadn't calmed down yet. She could still feel him. Inside. And she didn't want the moment to end.

He was breathing heavily. His hand tangled in her hair. Their bodies still pressed together. When he moved slightly, she moaned softly and looked up at him.

Her eyes shone. Unfiltered. Unmasked.

"I love you, Toto," she whispered.

She said it in that moment when their breaths were still entwined. When his body still pulsed with the echo of his climax. When he thought it was safe, that no words would be spoken that would linger forever.

And yet, they were spoken.

The silence that followed cracked like thunder.

He didn't respond.

He looked at her for a long time. His hand froze in her hair. His gaze shifted—something dimmed in it, something trembled. His lips parted slightly, as if he was about to say something... but then he closed them again.

He didn't pull away. He didn't say he shouldn't be there. He didn't run.

But he didn't say anything, either.

Victoria felt everything inside her slowly begin to freeze. And yet, she didn't look away. She didn't apologize. Because it was the truth. The whole truth she'd carried for months, for years. She had spoken it when she was naked—not just in body, but in soul.

Toto closed his eyes. Not from pleasure. From pain. Still silent.

He'd heard those words from women before. But never... not like this.

Because in Victoria's voice, there wasn't a trace of a game. No attempt to make him stay. She wasn't using love as leverage. She wasn't manipulating him. She said it with absolute purity and innocence, as if she simply had to. Because she could no longer hold it in.

He felt his heart squeeze to the edge of breaking. He wanted to pull her closer... but his body refused to move.

Because he knew he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve her love.

Not the love that burned in her eyes and came with a soul ready to surrender completely. Her tenderness. Trust. Submission. Fire. Each of these parts made him a different man when he was with her.

But he couldn't promise her anything.

"Don't say it," he wanted to tell her. "Don't tell me that, because I won't be yours."

Instead, he said nothing.

Because if he answered... maybe everything he built with Susie would collapse. Maybe he would lose his home. His son. Irrevocably.

Or maybe... maybe he was just afraid that once he let himself love Victoria the way she loved him, he would never be able to stop.

He didn't reply. Swallowed hard. He didn't trust his voice. He didn't trust himself.

She curled into him more tightly. As if sensing he would leave her soon.

He lay there a while longer, in silence, but each second hurt more than the last. Every ticking moment reminded him he had a family, a wife. That he had no right to stay in the arms of the woman who was everything he wanted... and nothing he could have.

***

Victoria lay nestled into his body, feeling his breath slow. Each second was like a farewell, though no one had said goodbye yet. Her hand rested on his chest, fingers tracing mindless shapes on his skin—shapes she wouldn't remember anyway. She always did that—in those moments after—when she was still with him, but he was already slowly leaving.

She could delude herself. But not today.

She knew he would get up soon. Say something calmly. Maybe kiss her. Maybe stroke her hair, the way he did when he wanted to soothe her. And then he'd return. To the hotel room. Maybe call his family—Susie, Jack.

She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the conversation with the boy just a few hours earlier. He had called, excited.

"Vici! Dad said that when he gets home, he'll take me and Mom to the ocean! We're going to stay in a cabin on the beach, with no phones!"

She smiled then with sadness, tears in her eyes, saying "That's wonderful, Jack," but her heart was already tightening.

Because she knew—that was his world. Not her. Not the girl, the orphan who had fallen hopelessly in love with an older man who had a family, who once showed her kindness and affection. And she, like a moth, had flown into his light.

"I love you, Toto," she repeated in a whisper. Softly.

Maybe hoping that if she said it a second time, something would change.

He didn't answer. Just like before.

She felt him move. Felt his hand slowly, regretfully slide off her waist. Felt how gently he pulled away, trying not to leave behind too much cold—but not too much hope, either.

She pulled away before he could. Sat up, not looking at him. Began putting on her shirt, her hands trembling slightly.

"I'm sorry," she said tonelessly. "I shouldn't have said what I feel."

"No," he replied softly, his voice gentle but unmoved. "You have the right to feel. The right to speak. I... I just can't give you what you'd want."

"I know." She gave a crooked smile. "I've always known."

He was silent. Like always, when he had no answer. And yet he was a master of words. A diplomat. A strategist. He could speak with cool precision about the team's future, contracts, drivers. But with her—he often fell silent. Maybe because there was nothing here to fix.

She looked at him one last time that night.

He didn't respond. He stood up, walked to her, leaned down. Kissed her on the forehead.

"Be careful tomorrow. You're starting from pole. Don't let them pull you wide on turn two."

His voice was suddenly cold. Professional. Safe.

She smiled bitterly.

"Of course, boss."

He looked at her one last time. And left.

He left behind his scent. The warmth in the sheets. And an empty space beside her.

Victoria was alone. With the love she had spoken aloud. And with the silence she had received in return.

The next day, race day

The engine roared, and the world ahead blurred into streaks. Turn after turn, second after second. She pushed into the seat, pressed the throttle. Harder. Deeper. As if she wanted to lose herself in it.

She had started from pole position. Had led from the start. But she was driving... differently. Not calculating. Not listening. Every corner was taken with minimal margin. Every exit onto the straight with more speed than she should. Braking later. Taking more risks. A lot more.

As if she wanted to destroy herself. Or break through something no one else could see.

"Victoria, brake temps are climbing. Cool the fronts. Delta minus one, watch turn 9."

Her engineer's voice—calm, routine. She ignored it.

"Victoria, copy?"

She lapped another car. Didn't even notice who it was. Drove like in a trance. All she could see was the image of his back as he walked out. The hotel door closing quietly. The silence after I love you.

"Victoria, brake temps CRITICAL. Shift balance or we pit. Do you copy?" — her engineer's voice was sharper now.

She gripped the wheel tighter.

Not now. I don't want to think. Just drive. Outpace the heart that hurts.

And then... his voice sounded in her ear.

"Victoria."

She froze. A split second. Enough for a shiver to crawl down her spine. He rarely intervened during the race. Only in critical situations. And today... she was at the edge.

"Victoria, it's Toto. We know you're fast. But this is not the time for recklessness. Not now. Please."

His voice was professional. Controlled. But she heard something more. Fear. Genuine fear. And that couldn't be faked.

"Back off the pace. Give me five clean laps. Please. You don't have to prove anything to anyone. You're already a champion. You've already won."

She closed her eyes.

If she hadn't been speeding at 280 km/h, she might have stopped altogether.

Instead... she lifted off the throttle. For a second. One short second that no one would catch in the telemetry data.

But he knew. He heard her answer in the silence.

"Copy," she whispered.

And that was the only moment that day when she felt she could stop running. That someone saw her. Maybe not as a woman. Not as a lover.

But as a human being on the edge.

And someone—if only for a moment—tried to pull her back.

Night before the Austrian GP

The door to the hotel room closed behind him almost soundlessly, and yet that sound hit him like a gunshot. He leaned back against the wall, feeling everything fall away—tension, pleasure, but above all, the truth he couldn't bear.

"I love you, Toto."

Her voice echoed in his mind. There had been no drama in it, no hysteria. It was... pure. True. Deep. And because of that, all the more unbearable.

He slid down to the floor, resting his elbows on his knees. The room was quiet. Too quiet.

He missed her breath. He missed her body curled against his side. Her fingers tracing over his skin. Her gaze, which spoke more than words ever could.

He couldn't sleep. Lay in the darkness, hearing the clock tick louder with every second. As if it was counting down to the moment she would realize he would never be hers. That it had only ever been a moment. A space stolen from the world.

But he was addicted too. Not to sex.

To her.

Her laugh, which disarmed him better than whiskey. Her wit. Her fury. Her silences. Her courage when she stood face to face with drivers who had decades of experience—and still, they gave way to her.

And the way she could give herself to him completely. Without condition. As if she knew he would break her heart—and came anyway.

Morning, before the race

He saw her near the truck, already in her race suit, speaking to an engineer. Hair tied in a severe bun, sunglasses on her nose.

She didn't come to him. Didn't look at him.

She was cold. Composed. Professional. Operating like a machine—perfectly oiled.

And that terrified him more than anything. Because he knew her too well.

He knew that when Victoria locked her emotions behind a wall, it meant she was ready for something... final.

The Race

When the lights went out, she launched like a bullet. Led from the start. But after the first lap, he already knew something was wrong.

"She's too fast. Too aggressive."

"She's not controlling it. She's attacking. Like it's not a race, but an escape."

Data flickered across the screens—brake temperatures, position deltas. Everything screaming a warning.

"She needs to back off," he said to the team. "Tell her we have a strategy. She doesn't need to drive like this. She can bring it home safe in P1."

But she wasn't listening.

And then... he reached for the radio.

"Victoria."

His voice trembled. He hadn't wanted her to hear that. But it was stronger than him.

"This is Toto. Please. You don't have to prove anything to anyone. You've already won."

Something inside him cracked. He couldn't stop her with his arms. Couldn't stand in her way. He could only speak. Pray she would hear him.

The silence felt like forever.

And then: "Copy."

That one word was like a breath. A flicker of her soul that hadn't yet jumped from the edge. Not yet.

He closed his eyes. And for the first time in a very long time... he was truly afraid.

Not for the result. Not for the reputation. For her.

Because he knew he had hurt her too deeply that night.

And if he lost her now... He would never recover.

-----------

Next -> chapter 7: Ride

-----------

25 notes · View notes

whiteraven87 · 14 days ago

Text

The Flame That Never Fades - chapter 5 - Ruthless (5/16)

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

====================

my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

====================

chapters until now:

Prologue 1: Middle of the Night 2: Frozen 3: Shameless 4: Lilith 5: Ruthless

============================

Chapter 5: Ruthless

Cause I could breathe you in and never breathe you out Hold you 'til I'm something you can't live without I'll whisper in the wind, leave a chill on your skin Forgetting me is useless My love's so ruthless My love's so ruthless Ruthless - Allegra Jordyn

Austin Grand Prix, June

The race weekend in Austin always drew attention — the crowds, the music, the evening events, the sponsors with bulging wallets and golden smiles. Victoria knew the ritual. She'd learned how to play the game — to be tough, sharp, enigmatic. But now, she was playing a different game entirely.

One with a single name: Toto Wolff.

There had been too many looks. One laugh too loud. One touch held too long.

Elliot King was one of the team's wealthy sponsors — the kind of man she'd once dismissed with irritation. Now, she let him stand close. Too close.

"You look like a woman to be feared tonight," Elliot murmured, leaning in toward her at the bar.

"Maybe I am," she smiled, sipping her whiskey on the rocks, wearing a dangerously short black dress she had chosen with care. "But some people like danger."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Toto enter the room. He was speaking with a Daimler board member — composed, focused, elegant. But his gaze — oh, his gaze found her instantly in the crowd. Froze on her exposed back and legs, on the way Elliot brushed her hand, and how she didn't pull away.

Victoria knew he was watching.

She felt that look on her neck like a touch without hands, like a blade that didn't cut but reminded you who you belonged to. Elliot King was talking about a private jet and a weekend in Portofino, and she nodded with a smile — just to feel Toto's stare pierce her from across the room.

She wore a tight black dress with a deep backless cut and a high slit up her thigh. She'd only worn it once — until now. Tonight, she wore it with purpose. Every move, every smile was a blade thrown in his direction.

Toto was tense. She didn't need to look to know. He could be talking business with board members, pretending to stay in control — but one glance into his eyes and she saw the same hunger that scorched her through sleepless nights.

And then, she crossed the line.

She let Elliot touch her hand for just a little longer. Meaningless to her — but in Toto's eyes, fire ignited.

Not even two minutes later, he was walking straight toward her. No smile. No mask.

"With me. Now." His voice was darkness itself — deep, sharp, unyielding.

She didn't ask where. Didn't pretend to be surprised.

He led her to the back, a dark, empty corridor where only their breaths could be heard. The door slammed shut. Then came the question:

"What the hell was that?" Toto's voice was quiet, but taut like a wire.

Victoria leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over her chest.

"Networking."

"You don't look like the kind of woman who flirts for PR."

"Maybe I'm just learning to live without your touch."

Silence. Dense. Unbearable.

Toto stepped closer. Then again. No longer the boss. No longer the mentor. Just a man who couldn't stand not having control over her.

"If you're trying to punish me, you're doing an excellent job," he said through clenched teeth. "But don't you dare turn yourself into a toy for the likes of King."

Victoria scoffed.

"A toy? Interesting word, considering you fuck me in your office and then act like nothing ever happened."

His eyes narrowed. Rage and desire fused into one. He grabbed her wrist — not hard, but firm.

"You're not a toy," he said low. "You're fire. But that fire is starting to burn me alive."

"Then burn, Toto," she whispered into his ear, grinding her hip against his crotch. "Because I already have."

It was a moment. A split second.

He grabbed her shoulder and slammed her back against the wall. His mouth crashed onto hers — possessive, brutal, merciless. He kissed her like a man who hated himself for not being able to stop. And she gave herself to him — with her mouth, her moan, her body that only ever softened in his hands.

"You want to provoke me?" he hissed, gripping her throat, making her breath shiver. "Then face the consequences."

He threw her onto the nearest counter — rough, confident. Her dress rode up immediately. In one motion, he tore off her panties. They dropped to the floor like a trophy.

"You want to play grown-up?" his voice was husky, dangerously calm. "Then you'll feel what it means to belong to me."

He thrust his fingers inside her with a force that made her cry out and double over — not from pain, but from ecstasy. Her body was ready. Hot. Wet. Her tongue tangled in knots.

"Say who's doing this to you," he growled through his teeth, his hand moving rhythmically inside her, the other pressed to her hip.

"You... Toto... only you," she whispered, her voice tearing from her throat.

"Louder."

"Only you."

He growled with satisfaction, flipped her around roughly and leaned over her back. Unzipped his pants. His hands gripped her hips, then he slammed into her, hard, without warning, in one motion that pulled a deep, shameless moan from her throat.

"Only I get to have you like this. Do you understand?"

He thrust into her fast, rhythmically — each movement a punishment and a reward. Her hands slipped across the counter, nails leaving trails. She felt him everywhere — inside her, inside her soul.

When his mouth found her ear again, he whispered:

"You won't let anyone else. No one. You belong to me."

"Yes... to you," she sobbed with pleasure. "To you..."

His hand slipped under her throat, pulling her upward until she felt his chest against her back, his breath, his pounding heart. He moved faster, deeper. Until her knees buckled and her cry of ecstasy echoed off the walls.

He stilled inside her at the end, panting heavily.

Everything froze.

Hands dropped. Bodies softened. Only the wild, shared heartbeat remained.

Afterward, she leaned against his shoulder, still trembling. Toto only said:

"What are you doing to me?"

She looked him in the eyes. No longer with devotion — but with strength.

"I'm teaching you what it's like when you're not the one in control."

But in this game, there were no winners.

Because they both knew — the longer it went on... the harder it would be to stop.

Several days later, Canadian Grand Prix

Toto's office was wrapped in silence. Only the door still trembled from the force with which Victoria had stormed in, slamming it shut so hard it echoed down the hallway. She threw her gloves onto the desk like unwanted baggage. Her eyes blazed. Sweaty, disheveled, still half in her race suit — she looked like fury incarnate.

"How could you?" she spat. "How the fuck could you do this to me?"

Toto looked at her from behind the desk. Calm — or at least pretending to be. His hand trembled as he set his glasses down.

"It wasn't sabotage, Victoria. It was a strategic decision in which—"

"A strategic decision?!" she cut him off furiously, stepping closer. "You took the podium from me, Toto. You took it because no one had the balls to trust my judgment. And I was right. Again."

He said nothing. He knew. She was right.

Her chest heaved with ragged breaths.

"And you? You didn't say a word." Her voice cracked. "You stood there and watched them tear me apart."

Toto stood. Tall, still, but coiled like a spring. He stepped toward her, inch by inch, until their bodies nearly touched.

"Careful, Victoria," he growled low. "I'm not your enemy."

"Aren't you?" she whispered. "Then why does it feel like you are?"

And then she struck him — not with her hand, but with her mouth. A kiss, full of anger, pain, need. And he answered without hesitation. Their lips crashed together — violent, hungry, raw.

In an instant, everything exploded.

Toto pushed her onto the desk. Her suit was unzipped in one swift motion. She gasped as cold wood met bare skin. His hands were merciless — strong, sure, tearing at fabric like every inch of her was a declaration: you're mine, right here, right now, all of you.

"Say it," he snarled in her ear, his fingers sliding into her without warning.

"I hate you," she hissed, but her hips trembled, her body begging for more.

"You're lying."

He thrust into her hard, brutally, pulling a moan from her that echoed off the office walls. Her nails scraped the desk surface, her head thrown back, his hands holding her like a prize.

"Only you..." she whispered, voice shaking. "Only you can destroy me like this."

"I know," he growled, voice dark, urgent. "And only I will put you back together."

His movements were fast, ruthless. Each thrust was punishment, every gasp a plea. They crossed the threshold where sex was just sex — this was a scream of the soul, a war, an admission of defeat.

When she came, she moaned his name like a prayer.

And instead of pulling away, instead of leaving, he stayed. Inside her. In silence.

He held her in his arms, pressed to his chest. One hand stroked her back, the other brushed her neck. And then, to her surprise, for the first time — there was no coldness. No escape.

Toto's hand moved along her back slowly, almost hypnotically. Victoria felt his warm breath on her skin, his forehead resting against hers, his body still tangled with hers, spent and softened by sensual exhaustion.

Just moments ago, it had been war. Rage. The peak of frustration.

Now there was only this touch — gentle, tender, as if he feared that if he stopped, everything would fall apart.

"My wild, beautiful girl..." he whispered softly in Polish, brushing his lips over her neck. "I won't let them destroy you."

Victoria froze.

Toto... never spoke like this afterward. Never held her so tenderly. Never stayed.

She should've said something. A joke, sarcasm, retreat — anything to regain control. But she couldn't. Not after hearing that break in his voice. That... truth.

"Don't say that if you don't mean it," she murmured, barely audible.

Toto raised his head and looked down at her. His hand cupped her face, his finger tracing gently along her cheek, down to the corner of her lips.

"And what if I do?"

That single sentence shattered every wall she had built.

She stared at him with wide eyes. This wasn't his usual tone. There was no coldness, no command. He was... human. A man. With a heart in his eyes. With tenderness she had always longed for but never expected.

"Toto..." she whispered.

"Shh." He placed a finger over her lips. "Don't ruin this moment. Not yet."

He gently slid out of her, but didn't pull away. He helped her zip up her suit, buttoned his own trousers, then gathered her in his arms again and sat down on the sofa in the corner of the office, holding her on his lap like something precious.

She curled into him. Quiet. Wordless. She felt his fingers glide over her neck, his lips pressing to her temple every so often.

"Why are you different now?" she asked at last, voice barely a whisper.

He hesitated. His hands trembled.

"Because now I know I can't pretend it means nothing to me anymore."

Victoria closed her eyes. Her body trembled — not from cold, but from relief. From fear. From emotion. She had waited so long to hear something like this... and now, as it came, she felt naked in an entirely new way.

She didn't reply.

She held him tighter. Let him wrap her up even more. Let him breathe into her hair. Let him speak softly in Polish — those words she understood not with her mind, but with her heart.

"You are my storm. My fire. My downfall..." his whisper was like a spell.

She fell asleep in his arms.

And Toto held her for a long time. As if he already knew that come morning, he'd have to let her go again. That the world outside would once more demand masks, roles, lies.

But not tonight — not for a few hours more.

Tonight, she was his.

Not as a trophy. Not as a driver. Not as a sinful secret.

Just Victoria and Toto.

-----------

Next -> chapter 6: The Machine

-----------

24 notes · View notes

whiteraven87 · 15 days ago

Text

The Flame That Never Fades - chapter 4 - Lilith (4/16)

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

====================

my other finished fanfiction: The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

====================

chapters until now:

Prologue 1: Middle of the Night 2: Frozen 3: Shameless 4:Lilith

============================

Chapter 4: Lilith

I tried to scream but lilies clouded my mind The petals softly floating into my eyes I felt your fingers slowly crawl up my spine We didn't have to sink for you to be mine Lilith - Saint Avangeline

May, hotel in Barcelona, Spanish Grand Prix

The door opened before him almost soundlessly. The hotel hallway was wrapped in deep silence, as if the whole world had drifted into sleep... and he was just leaving its most sinful corner. For a moment, he leaned against the doorframe, trying to catch his breath. His body was still burning — with the memory of her skin, the trembling whisper of his name, her nails on his back.

Toto turned once more and looked toward the bed. Victoria was asleep. Her tousled hair fell over her shoulder, the blanket barely covering her bare hips, her chest rising and falling in the rhythm of relief... and fulfillment.

Beautiful. Wild. His.

He took a step back, drawn to her like a moth to flame. Sat at the edge of the bed. For a moment, he simply watched. Then gently traced the marks he'd left on her skin. He knew he shouldn't. That every touch was another nail in the coffin of their shared damnation.

And yet...

It had all begun innocently years ago. She was young, ambitious, brilliant, defiant. There was something... untamed about her. But it wasn't then that he broke the rules.

It wasn't then that he tasted the forbidden fruit.

It was that passionate night, after her phenomenal victory, when she became World Champion six months ago... That's when he was lost.

Victoria, for all her innocence, burned like fire — and quickly learned to dance in his hands. She surrendered with a trust that terrified him. She was ready to give him everything.

And he... took it all.

He showed her a world of pleasure, domination, whispers in the dark. And she craved more. Drank in every word, every command. She gave him her body — but her soul had long been his.

He knew her better than he wanted to. He knew she loved him beyond reason. She never said it. Not once. But she didn't have to. He saw it in her eyes when she begged him to stay. In the soft "just a little longer," spoken barely above a whisper.

And he?

He loved Susie. His days began and ended with her. Jack was his world.

Victoria was the night. The secret. A burst of adrenaline that gave him a second life when the first one felt too neatly arranged.

And yet, he couldn't walk away from her — just as he couldn't truly belong to her.

He cared for her. Always. He was her support, the arm that steadied her on the podium and in moments of doubt.

But her love for him... It was her sentence.

He leaned in and kissed her shoulder softly. She didn't stir, lost in sleep.

"Don't fall in love with me..." he whispered, more to himself than to her. Though he knew it was far too late. "This has to stay between us."

He rose. Soundlessly. Looked at her one last time, then stepped out into the night — which suddenly felt colder.

He had to return to the hotel room next door. To Susie. To his family. To the life he didn't have the courage to leave.

But there, behind a closed door, slept the girl to whom he'd given more than he ever intended. And whom — against all logic — he thought of as he fell asleep beside his wife.

***

Sunlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains, dancing across the white sheets. Victoria woke slowly, still warm from the remnants of sleep. For a split second, all she felt was warmth. Softness. Closeness. And then she realized she was alone.

She turned sharply. He was gone.

Only the imprint of his head on the pillow remained — and the crumpled corner of the sheet.

No note. No words. Only silence. And emptiness.

She sat up, pulling the blanket around her naked body. She felt every part of herself — not just physically. Her heart ached. Her stomach twisted with unspoken fear.

The memories returned in waves: his breath on her neck, his hands — firm and steady — the commanding whisper in her ear. He had led her.

She was his. That night and all other nights that they shared - entirely, unconditionally.

And now? Now she was just the girl in the hotel bed. The girl who loved a man she could never have.

She rose slowly, feeling the pleasant ache between her thighs. She walked naked to the mirror.

For a moment, she studied her reflection — disheveled hair, flushed lips, the faint mark of his mouth on her neck.

She was no longer a girl. She was a woman. And she looked like someone who had tasted fire for the first time. But in her eyes — there was something more. A shadow.

She returned to the bed and hugged his pillow. It smelled like him. She inhaled greedily, as if trying to trap that scent inside her forever. She knew this wasn't accidental. That it wasn't just her who wanted this. He did, too. But for him... it was just another secret. And for her — the beginning of the end.

Her phone buzzed. A short notification.

A message from Toto:

> "I have to go back. Thank you for last night. Please... be careful. We can't give anyone reason to suspect. See you in the paddock. — T." <

No tenderness. No "you were beautiful," "you were incredible." No us.

Just "see you in the paddock." As if nothing had happened.

She clenched her fingers around the phone and set it down.

She loved him. Madly. For years.

And now she knew — there was no turning back.

She closed her eyes and whispered into the silence of the room:

"I gave you everything. And you didn't even look back."

And yet — despite the humiliation, the loneliness, the grief — She knew that if he knocked again tonight... She would open the door without hesitation. Because she was already his.

Completely.

Monaco, May, the apartment building where the Wolffs and Victoria live

Victoria stood in front of the mirror, not entirely sure why she was even going. She was supposed to be celebrating. It was her night — she had just been named Athlete of the Year. Well deserved. Fought for with blood, sweat, and endless battles on the track, crowned with her World Champion title. Susie had invited her to celebrate this new success together. Victoria couldn't refuse. She owed a great deal to Susie... and to Toto.

And yet, it wasn't the award she saw in her mind tonight. It was him. And her.

She wore a black dress, her long blonde hair let down, cascading over her shoulders and back.

She crossed the threshold of Toto and Susie's apartment. The dinner was meant to be "intimate." Susie had prepared everything herself — candles, classical music, homemade dishes, a light wine. She wore a flowing pale blue dress that draped off her shoulders like mist. She was the embodiment of gentleness. Of femininity. Of warmth.

"Darling!" Susie called out with a smile, approaching to hug her. "You look beautiful."

Victoria smiled faintly and allowed herself to be embraced. Susie's perfume drifted into her nose — soft, floral. Toto liked that scent. He once said it reminded him of home.

And then came him. Toto. In a dark sweater, classic, elegant. Broad shoulders, posture as upright as ever. And that gaze. A gaze that lingered on her for just a moment before it dropped — to her shoulder, where a small tattoo peeked out, one he had caressed with his tongue only the night before.

Victoria felt her body tense under his stare. But he said nothing. No gesture, no furtive touch. Just:

"Congratulations, Vici. We're proud of you."

We. A family. He and Susie.

They sat. The dinner played out to the sound of Mahler and toasts. Susie laughed, telling stories about Jack building a model of her race car out of blocks. Toto poured wine, his hand brushing his wife's. He pulled out her chair, whispered something into her ear, and she blushed.

And Victoria?

She felt like a blot of ink among watercolors. And yet it wasn't jealousy that burned. It was the knowledge of his real touch. The memory of the sound he made when he climaxed. The trembling, the urgency, the whispered "my wild girl."

When Susie went to the kitchen for dessert, Toto stood and walked over to her, seemingly by accident. He leaned in to pour more wine.

"You're quiet" he murmured low.

"I'm observing" she replied coolly.

His hand brushed her shoulder. A fraction of a second. Yet her skin ignited.

"Don't get your hopes up, Victoria", he whispered, barely audible. "What we have stays in the shadows. Where no one looks."

She looked up at him. Her eyes glinted with fury and longing.

"You don't need to remind me. I tell myself that every single day."

He wanted to say something else, but Susie's laughter drifted from the kitchen. He stepped back. Smiled at his wife. Took his seat again. Kept playing the part.

And Victoria? She was burning inside.

Because she knew that tonight he'd knock again. That once more the darkness and flame would swallow her whole. And afterward, he'd return to his family.

And once again, it would be just her. And that cursed taste of a love that was never meant to be.

When Toto said he'd walk her back, Victoria's heart started beating faster, even though she tried to stay calm. Susie had just taken Jack to his room to tuck him in, kissing Victoria's cheek goodnight with a tenderness only she could give.

"It was a lovely evening" she said softly. "You're part of our family."

Victoria smiled, choking on something between a scream and a sob.

Toto didn't say a word as they walked down the hallway together. The silence between them was dense, suffocating, heavy with all the things left unsaid. Her apartment was just one floor below — close. Too close to their world.

She closed the door behind her. Hadn't even turned around yet when his hand landed on her hip. His other hand gripped the back of her neck, pulling her roughly into a kiss. Their mouths collided — it wasn't a kiss of love. It was hunger. Hunger with only one release.

"Toto..."she murmured between kisses, but he didn't let her finish. He shoved her toward the dining table.

"Shhh... Just a moment", he whispered, pulling off his sweater in one swift move.

There was no tenderness here. No slow undressing, no tender whispers. She pulled off her dress in one motion. He lifted her, sat her on the table — their eyes met for a moment. In hers: love, devotion, yearning, desperation. In his: fire, hunger, power.

He entered her abruptly, without warning. She gasped — not in pain, but in relief. It was exactly what they both needed. His hands clutched her thighs, his hips slammed into the table's edge, and the sounds of their bodies mingled with breath and moans.

They didn't talk. There was no time. This was war against reality. Against a world that had to stay blind. His movements were fast, dominating. Her body yielded to him, entirely, as always. She was his. Only in these moments.

And she knew, if he ever said "come", she'd drop everything.

When they were finished, she rested her forehead against his chest, and he held her tightly for a moment longer. Then he stepped back. Wordless. He reached for his sweater, fixed his hair in the hallway mirror — as if nothing had happened.

"I have to go back" he said quietly, not meeting her eyes.

She remained naked on the table. Sweaty, trembling, wrecked from the inside out.

She nodded.

"I know."

The door closed softly. Again. Like always.

This time, she didn't cry. She simply reached for the glass of unfinished wine, still sensing his scent on her skin, his fingers on her flesh.

And only one question returned, over and over like a mantra:

How many more nights like this before it breaks me for good?

***

The door clicked shut behind him. He stood for a moment in the dark hallway of the apartment, trying to steady his breath. His body still vibrated, smelled of her. Her sweat. Her hair. Her kisses. He felt her everywhere — under his skin, in his mouth, between his fingers.

And right behind it... came the shame. Heavy as lead.

He straightened the sweater that had only moments ago hung over the back of a chair in her dining room. Reached for the cologne on the hallway shelf. Tried to wash the scent of sin off his skin. But his soul still smelled like her. Like Victoria.

In the rooms next door, his life slept. Susie. Jack. His family.

He should've been better. Wiser. He was the adult. The responsible one. The one who knew the consequences. And yet... he'd done it again. Stepped between her legs, into her thoughts, into her dreams. Took what wasn't his. And left behind the kind of emptiness only he could leave.

But he was addicted to her. To this young, wild woman who looked at him like he was a god. Who gave herself to him completely, no masks. Her body trembled under his touch. She surrendered without hesitation — with full trust and... love.

And that was the worst part.

Because he saw it in her eyes. Every night. Every time she kissed him, when she whispered "Toto..." with a sigh that pierced straight into him. When she held him with her hands as if she could stop time.

She would give him everything. Herself. Her career. Her heart.

And him? He only gave her the night.

He slipped quietly into the bedroom. Susie was curled under the covers, her face peaceful — more so than usual. In this light, she looked like the girl he once fell in love with. The mother of his child. The home he always returned to.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. She stirred in her sleep, but didn't wake.

He lay beside her, still feeling Victoria's skin beneath his nails. The image of her arched body on the table, her wet lips, her blown pupils returned with brutal clarity. The way she moaned his name when she came — it was like a blade between his ribs.

She didn't deserve this. She was young. Real. Loving.

And he was a coward.

He closed his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, he prayed to fall asleep. Even if just for a moment. Without her face haunting him.

Because he knew he would never truly be able to leave her. Just as he would never have the courage to stay.

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Next -> chapter 5: Ruthless

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