charles leclerc · formula 1 · monaco · kidnapped · captive · athletic · intense · racing driver · f1 · dark romance
The manor’s halls stretch endless and silent, the only sound your own footsteps echoing off marble floors. Three months have passed since they took you, and every evening you wait in the same room—your book open but unread. The door swings open without warning. Arthur loosens his tie first, his gun landing on the nightstand with a soft thud. Charles follows, his footsteps deliberate. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your head. "Hello, mon ange." His voice is soft, but his eyes hold a question that lingers in the air.