My Formula 1 System-Chapter 600: Back On Grind
A six-month-old did not simply "go to the pool." Precautions are strictly needed. Some of them are a float vest, silicone swim diaper, float bands, goggles, and water shoes.
Luca’s pool was half-size the Olympic standard, a wide shallow section, and a slope facing the house. The edges were cushioned, the grip tiles were new, and the water temperature was always controlled to be comfortably warm.
So, nothing about it was unsafe, and nothing about it left room for danger.
Luca enjoyed the outing, though he didn’t enter the pool. He only watched from under a shade while relaxed on a sun lounger, playing the role of a lifeguard.
He only intervened when there were hiccups, like when Laura struggled with the baby’s float collar and when one of the Velcro straps refused to lock. Beyond that, Luca only spectated.
Laura tried to hide it behind her gentle smile, but she had expected something else from the day after all the anticipation.
She had imagined Luca swimming with them, joining her and Martin, sharing that kind of imagery seen in Instagram reels did. But Luca never got in.
He appeared totally detached, seated beneath the shade the entire time, a hat and sunglasses shielding his face. Present, but distant, yet quiet and observing.
Luca only entered the pool when it was picture-time.
First, he held the camera while Laura and Martin took dozens of photos. Then they switched: Laura pressing the shutter from dry ground, while Luca and Martin in the pool.
No photo of the three of them together. It was then that the realization nested in Laura’s mind like a cold pebble:
She truly had overstayed her overstayed welcome.
So she decided she would leave in the morning. She told Luca, he nodded once, and that was that.
And so mother and child finally departed the estate toward Grunewald, Martin dozing while Laura watched the road through the window, her heart tightening with each kilometer.
Luca’s silence that morning echoed more loudly than any words, and she wondered if she had just lost her one window of closeness with him. If perhaps there would be no "next time."
When they reached her family’s home, Luca only stepped inside for a few seconds out of courtesy. He greeted everyone present before the click of the door behind him ended it.
Later, after she’d settled in and placed Martin down to nap, Laura received a phone call she hadn’t expected. Luca’s lawyers.
They introduced themselves politely and explained, with professional caution, that they were prepared to advocate on her behalf regarding the monetary supports that would follow now that the world had learned Ansel had a son.
There were clauses, compensations, lineage protections, future guarantees for Martin, and even long-term sponsorships they could leverage considering Luca’s stature and the public emotions surrounding Ansel’s legacy.
"Ms. Brahms," one of the lawyers concluded gently, "you are not alone in this. And should you need representation, we are at your disposal."
The moment she hung up, Laura sat very still.
She analysed how important it would be to have legal backup in her coming public exposure, but she most importantly peered through the surface.
From this, she realised there was a path to more proximity to Luca, if she could find a way to twist things.
Laura did not want to lose the F1 driver. Not the man who had been kind to her, who had carried Martin like he mattered, who made her heart kick with every dry smile and quiet gesture.
Laura looked toward Martin, sleeping peacefully on her bed, and she made a decision.
There would be a second visit. She only needed the right excuse.
~~~~~
Days later, Luca woke up in the morning with the same thing on his mind. The Chinese Grand Prix. He registered it before he even fully opened his eyes.
The house was fully empty now, refuged to him alone. There were no talking voice floating through the hall, or the faint sweetness of baby lotion clinging to the air.
Luca liked the silence. But on the flip side he disliked it all the same. It was the contradiction that bothered him the most.
Luxa didn’t want to be too close, especially now that people had formed certain opinions about him and Laura.
He didn’t want to give Laura the wrong idea, or himself the wrong idea, or Martin an idea he couldn’t live up to.
But he also didn’t want to be distant—not from Ansel’s son.
That was the knot he couldn’t untangle.
Luxa didn’t want to be close enough for Laura to think there could be something, but he didn’t want to be so far that Martin grew up knowing Luca Rennick had chosen distance over him.
A tough thing for anyone.
And Laura had begun to weaponize that very weakness. The knowledge that Luca would never allow himself to disappoint Ansel’s child.
Luca exhaled slowly and ran a hand down his face. It would be a long season, even though they were in motion into the second half.
He got up anyway. Routine was the best antidote to emotional clutter.
A wash of the face, a brush of the teeth, and a banana grabbed on his way out. And then the gym.
Luca’s gym in this house wasn’t like the clinically perfect one in London. That one was built like a private Olympic facility—mirrored walls, heat-adjustable treadmills, a sand pit corridor for endurance drills, and technology so sharp the machines practically screamed sponsored by the future.
It also wasnt like the gym in his first house here in Germany.
This one was different, styled more like an underground atelier of discipline than a fitness centre. Each machine was spaced generously, giving it the air of a dojo rather than a gym.
Everything had its purpose. And that was why he liked it better. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚
[-·- MILITARY PRESS -·-]
[Sets x Reps: 7 x 12–16]
[Duration / Time Cap: 20 mins]
[Strengthen deltoids, trapezius, and triceps while improving shoulder stability and overall upper body power]
To show the system he wasn’t afraid of its slim set duration, Luca spent most of the time doing other exercises first: strict pull-ups to warm his lats, dumbbell front raises to prime the shoulders, and planks with alternating arm lifts for core stabilization.
Finally, he positioned himself under the bar. He gripped it tightly, and with shoulders engaged, he extended until the bar hovered above his head at full lockout. The bar came down slowly, grazing his collarbone before another press. He repeated the motion until the last rep.
After the military press, Luca moved seamlessly to kettlebell swings, rope climbs, and cable rows, a circuit that strengthened his entire posterior chain and fine-tuned his grip.
Time in the gym was structured but fluid; he moved between exercises with minimal pause, feeling the burn without letting it dictate him.
Eventually, he retired to his room. Toweling off, he grabbed his phone and scrolled through notifications, clearing mundane messages and missed calls.
But while he navigated, he saw a pattern in the notifications he received, so he checked for authenticity.
Then, one headline caught his eye, slicing through the routine:
"Davide DiMarco, Red Bull champion, has made a full recovery and will return to the circuit."
