Luca slept in the next morning, exhausted from staying up late the night before. When he had first come to the lounge to choose a sofa bed, he noticed that Mr. Schafer had occupied the other one.
It seemed that after everyone had returned to their rooms, the old man had finally decided to get some rest. But before that, he arrogantly demanded to know where Isabella was. Luca wasted no time explaining the switch, making sure his tone made it very clear that he disliked Mr. Schafer's original idea of letting her sleep here.
To his dismay, Mr. Schafer seemed pleased to have some time alone with him—time that Luca desperately needed for sleep. But, of course, the old man didn't care. What started as a simple conversation quickly turned into a drawn-out lecture.
Mr. Schafer recounted every detail of his legal fallout, even though he knew Isabella had already told Luca everything. But instead of letting that stop him, he insisted on telling the story his way, making sure to frame it in a way that wouldn't make him seem weak.
Unfortunately for him, Luca had already seen right through him. He knew exactly the kind of man Mr. Schafer was.
Luca had once believed that when people aged, their character would mellow out—that they'd naturally become more neutral, less driven by arrogance or personal grudges. But clearly, that wasn't always the case.
Either Mr. Schafer had refused to change with age, or he was simply so rotten in his youth that even his older self remained the same.
Prideful. Arrogant. Unrepentant.
Mr. Schafer claimed he had left Miles' team on "mutual" terms, but Isabella had already told Luca the truth—he was blatantly sacked.
He then went on to complain that the FIA thought he was too old to run Grey-Husson's Academy and its programs when, in reality, he had been stripped of his license after being found guilty of corruption.
Now, here he was, tangled in legal battles in Italy, still clinging to his old grudges.
"I regret taking that lad up to the skies. I'll make sure I bring him down one day," he muttered bitterly while ranting about his feud with Miles and his former team.
When Luca questioned whether Mr. Schafer felt any regret for the way he had wronged him in the past, the old man didn't waver. Without hesitation, he dismissed the idea entirely, saying "no" and standing firm in his decision.
Nine months had passed, yet the man who had nearly sabotaged his future still refused to acknowledge any wrongdoing—let alone offer an apology. And now, on top of everything, he was robbing Luca of his much-needed sleep.
Frustration simmered beneath Luca's exhaustion as he cast a glance at the wall clock. Without another word, he ended the one-sided conversation, pulling the blanket over himself and shutting Mr. Schafer out for the night.
Back in Berlin, Trampos had begun loading their trucks in preparation for their transport to Italy for the 12th round of the season. Luca and the rest, already in Milan, expected their arrival by the end of the week or at the very latest, the start of the next.
Despite anticipating their arrival, Luca and his team still had their routines to maintain. He had already completed his tests at Clinica San Cataldo, with results expected in the coming days.
However, for the sub-quarters, he was only about to take the second-to-last phase of the test, meaning there was still a long road ahead before those results could even begin processing.
By 7 a.m., Isabella and Mr. Schafer were outside, ready to leave. Luca, still sluggish from lack of sleep, made sure to see them off despite his exhaustion.
Everyone had suggested that they could delay their departure until noon, but Mr. Schafer had woken up in a foul mood, muttering under his breath that Luca disrespected him.
No one challenged his decision further—not even Isabella, who simply got dressed in the same clothes she had arrived in and took her place in the driver's seat after greeting off Luca.
Mr. Ruben, Luca, and a few crew members stood by, watching as Isabella carefully reversed the car and drove out through the large gate, which a security guard held open for them.
Luca turned to Mr. Ruben, who still had a faint smile on his face.
"How do you know Mr. Schafer?" Luca asked.
"Ahh! I'm glad you asked," Mr. Ruben said, turning slightly. "I used to be one of his young crew engineers—just like how these tiny birds are to me now," he added, gesturing to the crew members still in their nightwear.
Luca raised a brow. "Mr. Schafer was a Chief Head Engineer?"
"Yes, that too. He headed the engineering department of Haddock Racing back in the day and was once Nevada's Team Principal," Mr. Ruben replied with a sigh, hands on his hips. "Great man. It's sad to see how far he's fallen now, and no one can come to his rescue."
Luca was taken aback. Mr. Schafer had once been the equivalent of a Mr. Grant for a powerhouse team like Nevada HanSama? How had he ended up being driven around in a simple Toyota by his daughter?
From Luca's perspective, someone with that kind of career and achievements shouldn't even be in his presence, let alone spending the night in the same lounge. Mr. Schafer was supposed to be the kind of man seen at the high-profile dinners and aboard luxury yachts Luca had just attended recently.
And if that were the case, Isabella herself would be far more renowned—someone unreachable.
Was his downfall truly the result of a single fallout with Grey-Husson? Could that alone have dragged him into this state of dismay?
Luca walked back toward the main building with Mr. Ruben, only to stop short when they found Mr. Ammermann blocking the entrance, casually sipping a creamy cup of coffee.
"You must be ready, sir. I'll go get dressed!" Luca said, saluting. They had a test to take today.
"You're not going today," Mr. Ammermann stated flatly, bringing Luca to an abrupt halt.
"He's not?" Mr. Ruben asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm not?" Luca echoed in confusion.
"Until the rest of the team returns, we're holding off. I'm just glad we finished our REAL tests in Cataldo," Mr. Ammermann said, taking another sip of his coffee. "I just got some deep street news that some rival fans here have caught wind that you're in Italy ahead of schedule."
Luca glanced at Mr. Ruben, shrugging, still unsure of the point. "And that changes something?"
Mr. Ammermann nodded.
"It wasn't hard for them to find out which facility you were attending. It's a public place, and a few people have already confirmed seeing someone who looks like you there," he explained, exhaling deeply. "Until we have enough security with us, we're not going back."
Luca swallowed, his mind running through all sorts of things.
Sensing the unease, Mr. Ruben stepped in, giving Luca's shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry. No one's laying a finger on ya, okay?"
Luca nodded firmly, though his spirits had dimmed. "Sure."
Mr. Ruben turned to Mr. Ammermann with a smirk. "Besides, doc here is probably just saying all this because he's too tired to go anywhere. Right, doc?"
Mr. Ammermann chuckled, realizing it was best not to burden Luca with worries outside of the race. "Yeah," he said, feigning a yawn. "I need more sleep."
"Alright, then!" Mr. Ruben clapped his hands together. "Everyone, go freshen up and be back down by 11! And we get that Dallara out here!"