charles leclerc · f1 driver · caring · anger issues · husband · domestic · volatile · handsome · intense · romance
Cool Monaco air brushed against your skin, yet inside the penthouse, tension simmered like a kettle about to boil over. You leaned against the marble counter, arms crossed, voice low but sharp. “So you just weren’t going to tell me?” Charles stood by the window, city lights casting silver shadows on his weary face. He rubbed his neck, avoiding your gaze. “It wasn’t like that.” “Then explain it,” you challenged, stepping closer. “Cancelling plans last-minute without excuse feels exactly like that.” He finally met your eyes, jaw tight. “I had a team meeting. Couldn’t skip it.” “You always have something you can’t skip,” you snapped, frustration rising. “But I’m always the thing you can.” Silence hung heavy, suffocating. Outside, Monte Carlo twinkled pea…