Pitfall ( ENG )

Part 3

The next day...

I barely slept three hours, but I was among the first to arrive at the factory the next morning. My coffee had already gone cold by the time I noticed that the atmosphere was even more tense than usual. Alessandro's face was shadowed, and in his eyes, I saw a familiar fire—he was having a bad day. And that never boded well.

I was processing another batch of data when the door to the engineering room slammed open and Alessandro stormed in, followed by Fred, who was giving a tour to the two drivers—Charles and Lewis. Several members of the engineering team were also present.

"Brooks!" Alessandro bellowed, throwing a folder to the floor. "What the hell is this?!" he shouted, pointing to my monitor.

"Based on the tire temperature distribution, I recommended dropping the medium compound for the long stints," I said quietly but firmly.

"How dare you decide what we use and what we don't when you don't even know where the signature box is?!" he yelled, his face flushed with rage. "Who do you think you are?! This isn't a university project!"

I took a deep breath and, despite all the tension, looked him straight in the eye.

"I think I'm an engineer who argues with data, not authority. And according to the data, the medium compound overheats and poses a risk to race pace. The truth might be unpleasant, but that doesn't make it any less true."

The room went dead silent. Everyone froze. Fred stepped forward.

"Alessandro. Come with me. Now."

Alessandro gave me one last look, then left with Fred without a word.

Bryan immediately came over and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Come on, let's clear your head," he said softly and led me out into the hallway.

A few minutes later, Fred returned alone, a strange, amused expression on his face.

"Brooks," he said. "No one's talked back to Alessandro like that in decades. And you know what? He needed it."

I blinked at what Fred had said.

"I... I didn't mean to cause trouble..."

"You didn't. That kind of fire is exactly what we need. Someone who can stand up for themselves—and for their data. Alessandro has a tendency to push newcomers too hard. But you didn't crack. Well done."

Fred patted me on the shoulder and headed toward the meeting room.

Not long after, Charles approached me.

"You okay?" he asked, leaning in slightly. "He was pretty rough on you."

"Yeah... just caught me off guard," I muttered. "Didn't expect such a scene."

Charles gave me a small smile.

"Neither did I. Didn't think anyone would ever talk back to him like that. Respect, Brooks."

There was a moment of silence between us. But his gaze didn't leave mine.

Later in the afternoon, Alessandro showed up at my desk. Uncharacteristically quiet, he stood beside me.

"Would you take a walk with me?" he asked, his voice finally free of tension.

I nodded silently, and we headed toward the back of the factory. Through a small door, we entered a simulation room I had only heard about from senior engineers. This was where the deepest technical trials happened—secret developments.

"This is usually for seniors only," he said. "But today... I thought you might be interested."

I looked at him in surprise.

"I want to apologize," he continued. "I went too far. It wasn't fair, and I know you were right yesterday. Fred was right too. I've been pushing you too hard."

His honesty surprised me. I didn't forgive him instantly, but I could tell he was sincere.

"You're tough," he added. "And that's not a bad thing. Sometimes I just don't notice when someone's already proven themselves. Today, you showed you belong here. That you're not afraid to say what you see."

He stayed with me in the room that afternoon. He showed me how the special pre-race models were built and gave me a glimpse into Ferrari's deepest engineering secrets. The things I had only admired from the outside until now.

At the end of the day, after Alessandro left, I stayed a bit longer to tidy up my desk. While I was packing, my phone buzzed. It was Mom.

"Hey, Mom," I answered with a tired smile.

"Hi, sweetheart! Everything okay? I tried to call you earlier, but I guess you were busy."

"Yeah, a lot happened today..." I sighed. "I publicly talked back to one of my bosses. In front of everyone. I thought I'd get fired, but... they actually admitted I was right."

"Oh, Liam..." I could hear the worry in her voice. "I hope they didn't hurt you."

"No. Alessandro... he actually apologized. And he showed me a simulation room that only senior engineers usually have access to."

"I knew you'd be fine," she said quietly. "I've always been proud of you."

I was silent for a moment, then carefully asked:

"Have you... talked to Dad since?"

Mom was quiet for a long while.

"No. And I won't. Not after what he did to you..." her voice cracked.

"I know," I said softly. "Sometimes I still hear him shouting. The way... he came at me. Not that Owen was much better. But you still live with him—I just don't want him to hurt you too."

The words came out hard. I closed my eyes for a moment and pictured our old living room, the yelling, the broken vase, my shaking hands, the glass table he pushed me over. As the scene replayed in my mind, I placed a hand on my shoulder—over the scars left by the glass shards.

I didn't notice Charles standing in the doorway. He had come over from the drivers' lounge for something, but when he saw me, he stopped at the threshold. He didn't speak—he had just caught the end of my sentence.

"...the way he came at me."

I quickly said goodbye to Mom.

"I have to go now. I'll call you tomorrow. Love you."

"Love you too, Liam. Take care."

I hung up and turned around. Charles was still standing there. His expression wasn't intrusive—just... gentle.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," he said quietly. "I was just... looking for a cable, but..."

I nodded.

"It's okay." I glanced at the table, where Charles's cable still lay—he must've left it during the afternoon tour.

He took a few steps closer.

"What you said..." he began, then changed his mind. "I just wanted to say... if you ever want to talk about it..."

My heart beat faster. I didn't want to complicate either of our lives further, but I didn't want to be rude either—after all, I work for him, and trust is important. So I just nodded, grabbed my bag, and headed out.