toto wolff x !single mom russell reader x susie wolff (smau + written)
you’ve spent most of your adult life walking a tightrope — between deadlines and daycare pickups, between chaos and control. being one of mercedes’ senior engineers was never meant to be easy, but somehow, you made it work. you always do.
it helps that you love your job. it helps that george is there every race weekend, grinning like he’s got the best big sister in the world. and it helps that toto and susie wolff — two people you’ve admired since the day you walked into the garage — have always looked at you like you’re part of something more than a team. you never expected that safety to turn into something softer. something this genuine.
but when your past comes knocking, threatening to take away everything you’ve built, you learn just how far they’re willing to go to protect you. and somewhere in the middle of chaos and comfort, you start to wonder if maybe, this is what home was always meant to feel like.
fc : victoriabrono on ig (imagine reader to be 28)
(day 10 of chef's tea party series!) (⚠️ minor mentions of abusive relationship, stalking and threats)
You still remember that night like it’s branded into your bones — the way the air felt thick and sour, the way Emilia’s tiny hand clung to yours so tightly it almost hurt.
You’d been holding it together for months. Pretending not to hear the shouting, pretending not to see the cracks spreading through the walls of the life you’d built. But that night, when he slammed the door so hard the frame splintered and the baby woke up screaming, you finally stopped pretending.
You moved on instinct. You threw clothes into a suitcase, packed Emilia’s favorite blanket, grabbed her stuffed rabbit from her cot. You didn’t even bother with your own things beyond a few essentials. You just knew you couldn’t stay. Not another second.
You drove through the night, eyes burning from tears you didn’t remember crying, Emilia asleep in her car seat behind you. You didn’t know where you were going until you found yourself parked outside George’s flat in London — headlights cutting across the familiar stone building.
It was well past midnight. You called him anyway.
He answered on the second ring, voice groggy, but the second he heard you crying, he was wide awake. “Where are you?” he asked.
“Outside,” you managed to whisper.
The door opened less than a minute later. He was barefoot, hair sticking up, still in his sleep shirt — and you’ve never been so relieved to see someone in your life.
When he saw the state you were in — mascara smudged, hands shaking, Emilia clinging to your neck — he didn’t ask a single question. He just wrapped an arm around both of you and pulled you inside.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he murmured, gently taking Emilia so you could breathe for a moment. “You’re safe now, yeah? You’re safe here.”
You broke then, the kind of quiet, ugly crying that steals your breath. He sat with you on the couch, your head pressed against his shoulder while he rocked Emilia back and forth until she fell asleep. He never pushed you to explain. He just let you cry.
By morning, the sun was filtering through the blinds, and you were wrapped in one of George’s hoodies. Emilia was curled up in his lap, chattering softly about the birds outside the window.
You finally told him everything. About how the man you’d once trusted had turned cruel, how the house had started feeling like a cage, how you’d been scared every single day. About the job — his company — where you had been humiliated and undermined and finally realized that you couldn’t stay there either.
You felt empty when you finished speaking. Hollowed out.
George listened the entire time, jaw set, eyes dark with fury that he was trying so hard to contain. When you were done, he leaned forward and took your hands.
“You’re never going back there,” he said simply. “You and Emilia are staying here for as long as you need. Full stop.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he shook his head before you could even try. “No arguments. My home is your home, yeah? Always.”
You didn’t have the strength to fight him on it. So you stayed.
The days that followed were slow, strange, almost dreamlike. You tried to keep busy, to distract yourself with little things — washing dishes, taking Emilia to the park, pretending your life hadn’t completely fallen apart. But the guilt was heavy. You were unemployed now, living in your younger brother’s home, and it made you feel small in a way that you hated.
George noticed, of course he did. He always noticed. One evening, while you were making tea, he leaned against the counter and said, as casually as he could manage, “You know, Toto mentioned Mercedes might be looking to bring another engineer on board.”
You looked up sharply. “George—”
“Just saying,” he shrugged. “You’re brilliant. It’d be perfect.”
“I’m not taking a job you hand to me,” you muttered. “That’s not how I want to rebuild my life.”
He sighed softly. “YN, no one’s handing you anything. You’ve worked twice as hard as anyone I know.”
You shook your head. “Still. I don’t want pity. I need to do this on my own.”
He didn’t push further that night. He just gave you a small nod, kissed the top of Emilia’s head, and let it go — or at least, that’s what you thought.
Two days later, you realized he hadn’t let it go at all.
You’d agreed to meet him for lunch near Brackley. He’d insisted it was just to “get out of the house for a bit.” But when he pulled up to a sleek glass building and told you to come in with him for a “quick stop,” your stomach dropped.
“George,” you said slowly, “what is this?”
He grinned, far too innocent. “Just trust me, yeah?”
The “quick stop” turned out to be the Mercedes headquarters — and before you could properly protest, you were being led through the doors and into Toto Wolff’s office. You wanted to strangle your brother.
Toto looked up from his desk when you entered, and for a moment, you thought you might actually turn around and walk out. But then he smiled — a warm, disarming sort of smile that made your nerves quiet just a bit.
“YN Russell,” he said, standing to shake your hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“God, I’m sorry, I didn’t even know—”
He waved you off. “It’s quite alright. I thought we might talk, since George says you’re looking for a fresh start.”
You shot your brother a murderous look. He mouthed You’ll thank me later.
What was meant to be an awkward courtesy meeting turned into something entirely different. Toto asked you about your work, your background in mechanical systems, the projects you’d managed at your old job. You expected him to be polite, detached — but he wasn’t. He leaned forward, genuinely engaged, nodding thoughtfully at your explanations.
When you spoke about optimization models you’d built for vehicle performance, he stopped you mid-sentence. “You built that yourself?”
You nodded cautiously. “I did.”
He smiled again, slower this time. “That’s impressive. Very impressive.”
There was something kind in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in a long time — something that made your chest ache. You realized he wasn’t offering you anything out of sympathy. He was seeing you. Seeing your work, your potential, the person you were before your world collapsed.
By the end of the meeting, he closed his notebook and said, “You’re exactly what we need here. The position is yours, if you want it.”
You blinked at him, stunned. “I— I need to think about it.”
“Of course,” he said gently. “Take your time. But I think you’ll find Mercedes feels like home faster than you expect.”
When you left the office, George was waiting in the hallway, grinning like a fool.
“So?” he asked.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small, incredulous smile tugging at your lips. “I hate you.”
“Love you too,” he said, slinging an arm around your shoulder.
That was almost four years ago. Four years since you packed your life into a single suitcase, walked away from everything that hurt, and started over. You didn’t know it then, but that day — the day George tricked you into an interview — was the day everything began to change.
The Mercedes garage on a Saturday morning hums like a heartbeat. The air smells faintly of rubber, fuel, and adrenaline, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You’ve worked your way up to senior engineer, and no one — no one — questions that you’ve earned it. Not George, not Kimi, not even Toto. Especially not Toto.
Your headset hums softly as you scroll through a stream of data on the monitor, half-listening to the chatter between the drivers and their race engineers. You’re going over sector times with Kimi, who stands beside you, leaning against the workbench, still in his fireproofs and half-zipped race suit. He’s taller now, though he’ll always look like the kid brother you never expected to have.
“Your turn-in on Turn 9 is still too sharp,” you tell him, tapping a section of the graph. “You’re losing grip mid-corner because of it. Try easing into it — just a little less aggressive on entry.”
Kimi frowns, squints, then looks at you with mock seriousness. “You’re saying I’m too fast?”
You raise a brow. “I’m saying you’re too stubborn.”
He laughs, the kind of loud, boyish sound that turns a few heads in the garage. “That’s not news to anyone.”
“Especially not me,” you mutter, shaking your head.
Across the garage, George is crouched next to Emilia, who’s perched on a folding chair, her Mercedes cap nearly swallowing her head. She’s seven now, all big eyes and endless curiosity, her curls bouncing as she chatters excitedly. George has a small remote control car in his hands, one of the team’s promotional toys, and they’re trying to “race” it around an empty corner of the garage floor.
“Uncle George, that’s cheating!” Emilia giggles as he nudges her car with his.
“You’re accusing a Formula 1 driver of cheating?” he gasps dramatically. “Unbelievable!”
She sticks her tongue out at him. “Only because you are!”
You can’t help but grin. Watching them together never gets old.
“Oi, you’re supposed to be focusing,” you call out, though your voice is laced with affection.
George looks over his shoulder. “This is team bonding!”
“Team bonding doesn’t usually involve crashing toy cars into toolboxes,” you counter.
Emilia turns to you, eyes wide and pleading. “Mummy, he started it!”
You throw your hands up. “Of course he did.”
Kimi snickers beside you. “Should we add that to his driver debrief?”
You give him a light shove. “Don’t you have telemetry to review?”
Just then, the garage door rolls open and a familiar voice calls out, “I hope you’re not causing trouble, George!”
Susie Wolff steps in, elegance and warmth wrapped in one. She’s in her usual paddock outfit — crisp white blouse, tailored slacks, hair pulled back effortlessly. Jack trails behind her, already running toward Emilia the second he spots her.
“Jack!” Emilia squeals, leaping off her chair. They meet halfway, crashing into each other in a blur of laughter and matching caps. Within seconds, they’re off in their own world, pretending to “fix” a spare tire with oversized wrenches.
Susie walks over and kisses your cheek. “You look busy,” she teases, glancing at the monitors.
“Busy is good,” you reply with a smile. “Kimi’s trying to convince me that physics doesn’t apply to him.”
“Because it doesn’t,” Kimi says solemnly, earning himself a fond eye roll from both of you.
Toto appears moments later, tall and composed but with a softness in his expression reserved for rare moments like this. He always seems to find his way to you during race weekends — not in the overly formal, boss-to-employee way, but like someone who genuinely wants to check in.
“How are we looking?” he asks, standing beside you to peer at the data.
You gesture toward the screen. “Kimi’s sectors are clean except for that entry into Turn 9, and George’s pace in the long run is looking solid. If the temperature holds, we could be set for something good.”
Toto nods approvingly. “I trust your judgment.” Then, quieter, “And you? How are you doing, YN?”
It’s such a simple question, but coming from him, it always feels heavier. You glance up at him — at the man who took a chance on you four years ago when you had nothing but a resume and shaky confidence — and smile softly. “I’m good, really. Happy.”
He gives you that rare, subtle smile that makes people forget how intimidating he can be. “That’s all I like to hear.”
Susie leans against the counter beside you, watching Emilia and Jack play with George. “She’s grown so much,” she says warmly. “It feels like yesterday she was still hiding behind your leg whenever we visited.”
“She’s growing faster than I can keep up,” you admit, a touch of wistfulness in your tone.
Susie smiles knowingly. “You’re doing wonderfully, you know. She’s happy. That’s what matters most.”
Before you can answer, your radio crackles to life. “Alright team, heading into the final qualifying run,” one of the engineers says.
You and Toto exchange a look, all softness replaced instantly with focus. The next fifteen minutes blur together — data, voices, tension, the hum of engines vibrating through the floor. You’re calling out sector updates, eyes darting between the timing screen and telemetry graphs. Kimi’s lap looks sharp, controlled. George’s delta flashes green through every split.
You hold your breath through the final sector.
The times flash on screen — P1: George Russell. P2: Kimi Antonelli.
For a moment, there’s stunned silence — and then chaos. Cheers erupt through the garage. Mechanics hug. Engineers clap each other on the back. Emilia and Jack jump up and down shouting, “Pole!”
You turn to George, who’s running toward you with his helmet still in hand, face split into the widest grin.
He scoops you into a hug before you can protest, spinning you around once like he used to when you were kids. “That’s my sister!” he laughs. “Our brains and my bravery — unstoppable combo!”
You’re laughing so hard you can barely breathe. “Put me down, you idiot!”
Kimi joins in seconds later, still half in his suit, throwing an arm around both of you. “I told you Turn 9 would be fine!”
“You said physics doesn’t apply to you!” you shoot back, swatting at him.
“Same thing,” he grins.
Toto and Susie stand a few steps back, watching the chaos unfold with that unmistakable expression — pride, amusement, affection.
Toto crosses his arms, shaking his head slightly, though his smile betrays him. “This garage,” he murmurs. “It’s like a kindergarten sometimes.”
Susie laughs softly, looping her arm through his. “Yes, but look how happy they are.”
You catch their gaze across the room — Toto’s quiet pride, Susie’s warmth — and your heart swells. Years ago, you walked into this team broken and unsure. Now, you’re at the heart of it — thriving, loved, surrounded by family.
As the team gathers for a photo, Emilia climbs onto George’s shoulders, waving the Mercedes flag, and Kimi flashes his trophy to the cameras. You stand beside Toto and Susie, champagne still in your hand, and you can’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — life really doesn’t get any better than this. At least, not yet.
The morning at the track was electric. The air carried that particular kind of tension — cloudy skies threatening rain, the smell of fuel and adrenaline mixing with the roar of engines firing to life. It was race day, and Mercedes was ready. You could feel it in the garage — in the way the engineers moved with razor-sharp focus, in the way Toto’s smile betrayed both pride and nerves, and in how George and Kimi both seemed unusually calm, like they knew something special was about to happen.
You stood just behind the pit wall, headset on, heart pounding in rhythm with the engines. Emilia sat up in the hospitality suite with Susie and Jack, waving a tiny Mercedes flag with such excitement that she nearly toppled her juice box over. Every few minutes, she’d ask, “Is Uncle George winning?” and Susie would laugh and say, “He’s getting there, sweetheart.”
From lights out, the race was chaos — Red Bulls and McLarens everywhere, strategic gambles, a near miss in Turn 1. But George and Kimi were perfect. Calm. Cohesive. Their radios were filled with clipped, efficient communication — you could practically hear the trust between them. Every overtake, every defensive move felt like poetry in motion.
And when the final lap came, when George crossed the line first and Kimi right behind him in second, the whole Mercedes garage erupted. Cheers, hugs, laughter — the kind that comes from relief and joy all tangled together. You covered your face for a second, overwhelmed. Silverstone. Home race. A 1–2.
When George finally jumped out of the car, you were right there on the other side of the barrier. He found you first, pulling you into a tight hug that lifted you off your feet. “We did it,” he laughed breathlessly into your ear, still shaking from the adrenaline. Kimi soon joined, arms thrown around both of you as the three of you laughed like children.
Moments later, you were ushered up to the podium — George, Kimi, and you representing the team. Susie and Toto were down below, grinning ear to ear. Emilia sat on Susie’s hip, wearing a tiny pair of noise-canceling headphones, waving wildly at her mom. She didn’t understand the technicalities of racing, but she understood happiness — and her mom, Uncle George, and Kimi being together meant something magical had happened.
The British anthem played, and you felt tears sting your eyes as champagne rained down and the crowd roared. It was everything you’d ever wanted — not just victory, but peace, safety, family. For the first time in a long time, you truly felt safe. Until you weren’t.
That night, the celebrations carried into the Mercedes hospitality and then to the team hotel. Emilia had fallen asleep early, curled up on the couch in George and Carmen’s suite while everyone laughed and toasted. You slipped away for a bit, wanting a few quiet minutes to breathe. You’d just stepped into the corridor when you froze.
He was standing there. Your ex.
The sight of him hit you like a punch to the chest — the familiar smirk, the arrogance in his stance, the coldness in his eyes. You hadn’t seen him in months, hadn’t heard his voice beyond the occasional legal email. And now he was here, in your space.
“Did you really think you could just run away with her?” he sneered, stepping closer. “With my daughter?”
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding so violently you could barely breathe. “You don’t have a right to be here. You’re not supposed to be anywhere near me.”
He laughed under his breath, eyes narrowing. “Oh, I’ll be near, alright. I’m filing for full custody. You’re not a fit mother. You can’t even keep her safe — dragging her around racetracks, parading her in front of cameras like she’s some accessory. You’ll lose, YN. You’ll never see her again.”
Every word made your stomach twist tighter. He leaned in, lowering his voice to that cruel, familiar whisper that made your blood run cold. “You should’ve known better than to think I’d let you move on.”
He turned and walked off, leaving you standing there shaking — the corridor suddenly too small, your lungs refusing to fill. The silence after his footsteps faded was worse than his voice.
You stumbled back toward George and Carmen’s suite, your hands trembling so violently you could barely unlock the door. The second you stepped inside, Carmen turned instantly, eyes softening as soon as she saw your face.
“Hey, what—”
“He found me,” you choked out, the words breaking apart as you spoke. “He was here. He—he said he’s going to take her from me, Carmen. He said I’m not fit—he’s going to—”
Your voice gave out.
George was across the room in a heartbeat, taking your shoulders gently but firmly. “What? What do you mean he was here?” His tone sharpened with protective anger, but when he saw how pale you were, his expression shifted to pure worry. “YN, where is he now?”
“I don’t know,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “He just left. He said he’s going to file for custody, George. He knows how to find us. I can’t— I can’t do this again. I can’t lose her.”
Carmen immediately wrapped her arms around you from behind, grounding you with quiet whispers — “You’re safe, it’s okay, he’s gone, we’ve got you, I promise.” — while George picked up his phone, already calling hotel security, his other hand never leaving your arm.
You sank down onto the couch, your body trembling uncontrollably. All the strength you’d had at the podium, the glow of the day’s victory, it all came crashing down under the weight of that old fear. Carmen knelt in front of you, brushing hair from your face.
“Hey, listen to me,” she said gently, her voice steady in the way that made you want to believe her. “He doesn’t get to do this to you anymore. You have us now. He can’t touch you or Emilia. We’ll make sure of it.”
You nodded weakly, tears falling freely now. “I just don’t feel safe. He knows where I work. How to find me”
George crouched beside you, his hand finding yours. “We up security. You and Emilia can stay with us. We’ll handle the rest, okay? I’m not letting that bastard anywhere near you two again.”
The way he said it — firm, final — broke you all over again, but this time it wasn’t fear that made you cry. It was the overwhelming realization that you weren’t alone anymore.
When Emilia stirred from her nap a few minutes later, Alex had already arrived, quietly helping George talk to security. You wiped your face and told her softly that everything was okay — that she was safe, that Mommy just needed a hug. And she gave you one, small arms tight around your neck, warm and soft and grounding.
You held her close, breathing her in, silently promising that no matter what came next — the lawyers, the fear, the chaos — she’d never have to face any of it without love surrounding her.
George caught your gaze from across the room, Carmen’s hand resting over his heart. Both of them looked at you with that same quiet promise: You’re safe now.
The next race weekend dawned under deceptively calm skies. On the surface, everything looked perfect — another strong start for Mercedes, another chance to carry the momentum forward. The paddock buzzed with the usual chaos: engineers hustling between garages, media swarming around drivers, fans cheering from behind the fences.
But beneath the noise, there was an unease sitting heavy in your chest. You’d barely slept since last weekend. Even though you and Emilia were now staying under a different name and in a different hotel arranged by the team, you couldn’t shake the image of your ex’s face — that cold smirk, that venom in his voice when he said you’d lose your daughter.
Still, you did what you always did: you worked. You pushed through. Head down, headset on, laser-focused. George’s car data looked promising, Kimi’s setup tweaks were solid, and you had a rare moment of pride seeing them both so ready, so confident.
Emilia was once again in the Mercedes hospitality, coloring beside Jack under Carmen's watchful eye. You’d peeked in earlier just to see her — she’d flashed you a gap-toothed smile and waved her crayon-stained fingers. You’d smiled back, heart easing for just a moment. Everything seemed normal.
You were walking across the paddock, tablet in hand, when a voice — that voice — froze you mid-step.
“Still playing engineer, huh?”
Your blood ran cold before your brain even processed the words. You turned slowly, and there he was — dressed in an expensive suit, a smug grin carved into his face as he held a thick envelope in his hand. He showed up again.
You immediately felt the air leave your lungs. The crowd noise faded. It was just him and the weight of the memories he carried — the shouting, the fear, the bruises you’d covered, the years of control.
“What are you doing here?” Your voice trembled despite your best effort to steady it. “You’re not supposed to be near me. This is private property.”
He stepped closer, holding out the envelope. “I told you I’d do it. These are official custody papers. You’ve been served, sweetheart.”
You flinched as he called you that, that word tainted now, poisoned. He took another step, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “You think those racing people can protect you? You’re not going to win this. You don’t have the money. You don’t have the connections. I’m going to take Emilia, and there’s nothing you can do.”
Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You wanted to yell, to tell him to get out, but your throat locked up. The panic rose so quickly that you felt dizzy. Your hands trembled so violently that the clipboard nearly slipped from your grip.
But then —
“Hey!”
Kimi’s voice cut through the noise like thunder. He’d spotted the scene from down the walkway and was already striding toward you, face stormy with protective anger. George wasn’t far behind, catching sight of your expression and immediately tensing.
Kimi stepped between you and your ex, his normally calm eyes sharp with fury. “You need to leave. Now.”
“Who the hell are you?” your ex sneered.
“I’m the person telling you to get the hell away from her,” George said as he joined, his tone low, dangerous in a way you’d never heard from him before. “You don’t belong here. Security’s already on the way.”
Your ex chuckled mockingly, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Touch me, and I’ll sue every one of you too. Don’t worry — I’ll be back soon enough, when I have my daughter with me.”
And with that, he walked off, leaving the envelope on the ground like a weapon. You didn’t move. Couldn’t move. The moment he disappeared from view, the panic hit you like a freight train. Your chest constricted, vision blurring, breath coming in rapid, shallow gasps.
“YN, hey, hey, look at me,” George said softly, crouching in front of you. His voice was steady, trying to ground you, but you couldn’t focus — your ears were ringing, the edges of your vision closing in.
“He found me again,” you gasped. “He—he’s going to take her—he’s going to take my baby—”
Kimi exchanged a worried glance with George before gently touching your arm. “He won’t. He won’t, YN, I promise. You’re safe here. No one’s taking Emilia.”
But you couldn’t stop shaking. The moment was too much — too raw, too real. You turned and bolted toward the hospitality building, heart pounding, vision tunneling.
Inside, Carmen had been sitting with Emilia and Jack, but the instant she saw your pale face and trembling hands, she was up and moving. “YN? What happened?”
You couldn’t even speak — just clutched your chest as tears spilled over, the panic attack fully taking hold. Carmen caught you before you could stumble, guiding you to a quiet corner, her voice calm and low.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re safe. Deep breaths with me, okay? In and out. That’s it. You’re okay.”
You tried — gasping through the tears, focusing on her voice, her hand rubbing slow circles on your back. Gradually, your breathing began to slow, the edges of panic blurring into exhaustion.
That’s when Susie appeared. She’d seen the whole scene from across the hospitality glass — seen George and Kimi holding back an unfamiliar man, seen you run off like you were being chased by ghosts. Her expression softened instantly, maternal concern overtaking everything else.
She crouched down beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your damp face. “Sweetheart, come with me, okay?” Her voice was firm but gentle. “We’re going to talk to Toto.”
You nodded weakly, still trembling, and she helped you to your feet. Carmen gave your hand one last squeeze before whispering, “I’ll keep an eye on Emilia. Go.”
The walk to Toto’s office felt surreal — like you were moving through fog. Susie stayed by your side the entire time, her hand pressed between your shoulder blades, steady and reassuring.
When Toto looked up and saw your face, his expression immediately shifted from focus to fury. “What happened?”
Susie’s voice was calm but laced with steel. “He came here, Toto. The ex.”
Toto stood so quickly his chair nearly toppled. “He what?”
“He served her custody papers in the paddock,” Susie continued quietly. “And threatened her. Again.”
You finally found your voice, though it came out barely above a whisper. “He said he’s going to take her. That I’m not fit to be her mother. That I don’t have a chance because he has money and power. And I don’t—I don’t know how to fight him, Toto. I can’t lose her.”
Toto’s jaw clenched, his blue eyes dark with barely restrained anger. “You shouldn’t have to fight him alone,” he said firmly.
“Toto—”
“No,” he interrupted, his voice like a command. “He came into my paddock, threatened my engineer, and tried to scare you into submission. That will not stand.”
Susie nodded beside him, her tone softer but equally resolute. “You’re not alone in this, darling. We’ll get lawyers — our lawyers — the best. He can’t buy his way into taking your child. Not when he’s already proven to be dangerous.”
You shook your head weakly. “I don’t want to be a burden—”
“You’re not,” Susie cut in immediately, her tone firm, almost motherly. “You’re family, YN. Family takes care of each other.”
Toto stepped closer then, placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “I’m arranging additional security for you and Emilia, effective immediately. You’ll have an escort to and from the paddock, the hotel, everywhere. And Susie’s right — we’ll take care of the legal side. You just focus on being a mother and on your work.”
Your lips trembled, tears spilling again — not from fear this time, but from the weight of kindness you hadn’t expected. “I don’t know how to thank you,” you whispered.
“You don’t have to,” Susie said softly, pulling you into a hug. “We’ll fix this. You and Emilia deserve peace.”
For a moment — in the middle of the chaos, the fear, the fury — you finally let yourself believe it. You sank into Susie’s arms, feeling Toto’s hand steady on your shoulder, the quiet hum of the garage outside reminding you that you weren’t alone anymore. Whatever came next, you had them behind you — and that made all the difference.
The sea outside your Monaco apartment shimmered under the soft glow of the moon, calm and endless — a cruel contrast to the storm sitting in your chest. You sat on the couch in the dim light of the living room, phone trembling in your hand. Another text. Then another. Each one more venomous than the last.
You can’t hide forever.
Enjoy your time with her while it lasts.
You really think those rich people can save you? You think your little brother can save you? Huh. Real funny.
Your stomach twisted so hard you thought you might be sick. It had been weeks since the paddock incident — weeks of new security protocols, lawyer meetings, reassurances from Toto and Susie that everything was being handled. You’d even started to believe it. To breathe again. To feel safe.
But one string of messages shattered that illusion in seconds. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to lock your phone and set it face down on the table. Emilia was asleep in her room, curled up in her little bed, surrounded by her favorite stuffed animals and the soft hum of her white noise machine. You’d checked on her three times already. You couldn’t stop yourself.
You rubbed your hands over your face, trying to steady your breathing, but the tremor wouldn’t stop. Your chest felt tight. Your throat burned. You wanted to call someone — George, maybe, or Carmen — but it was late, and you didn’t want to scare anyone. You told yourself you just needed to calm down. To breathe.
You were still trying to slow your heartbeat when a knock sounded at the door. You froze. The first flash of panic hit — irrational, immediate. He found me. He’s here.
But then a familiar voice, calm and warm, cut through the fog.
“YN? It’s Susie, love. And Toto.”
You blinked in disbelief for a second before scrambling to the door, still clutching your phone. When you opened it, Susie stood there, holding a white paper bag that smelled faintly of pasta and garlic. Toto had a small gift bag in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
“We thought we’d surprise you,” Susie said, her smile fading the moment she saw your face. “Oh, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”
You tried to speak but your voice cracked. “He—he texted me again.”
Toto’s entire expression shifted — from warm to cold, protective fury beneath the surface. “Show me.”
Your hands shook as you handed him the phone. Susie immediately put the food down on the kitchen counter and moved to your side, rubbing slow, soothing circles between your shoulder blades.
Toto scrolled through the messages, his jaw tightening with every word. “This is harassment,” he muttered. “He’s violating every order and boundary. I’ll call the lawyer in the morning.”
Susie guided you toward the couch. “Breathe, love. Deep breaths, just like before. You’re safe. We’re here.”
You nodded weakly, but tears slipped down your cheeks before you could stop them. The dam finally broke — the weeks of tension, the sleepless nights, the fear that you were living on borrowed time.
“I just—I can’t do this again,” you choked out. “I can’t keep being scared. Emilia deserves better than this. I’m supposed to be protecting her and instead I’m—”
“You are protecting her,” Susie interrupted softly but firmly, her Scottish lilt wrapping around the words like a blanket. “Every single thing you’ve done, every step you’ve taken, has been for her. You’ve already done more than most people could.”
You pressed your hands to your face, shoulders shaking. Susie didn’t hesitate — she wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close, guiding your head to her shoulder. The faint scent of her perfume, the warmth of her embrace — it was grounding, maternal in the softest way.
Toto set your phone on the counter and returned to the living room. He crouched beside the couch, his expression gentler now, though his eyes still burned with restrained anger. “He won’t win, YN. You have my word.”
You nodded, voice breaking. “I just want it to stop.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “And it will. But right now, you need to rest. You need peace.”
The sound of small footsteps made all three of you pause. Emilia appeared in the hallway, rubbing her eyes, her favorite stuffed bunny clutched to her chest. “Mummy?” she mumbled sleepily. “Why are you crying?”
You quickly wiped your face and forced a smile. “Just a bad dream, baby. I’m okay.”
Toto stood and walked over, lowering himself to Emilia’s level with a gentleness that didn’t match his size. “Hey, little one,” he said softly. “You should be in bed. We brought you something.”
Her eyes lit up a little as he handed her the small gift bag. Inside was a soft silver Mercedes teddy bear wearing a tiny team hoodie. She giggled and hugged it to her chest.
“Say thank you to Toto,” you murmured, voice hoarse.
“Thank you, Toto,” she whispered shyly.
He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re very welcome, Emilia. Now, come on, let’s get you back to bed. You can tell me about your new bear while we walk, hm?”
She nodded and reached for his hand without hesitation, tiny fingers curling around his much larger one. You watched them disappear down the hallway — your heart aching and soft all at once.
Susie squeezed your hand. “He’s got her,” she whispered. “Don’t worry.”
You nodded, tears still slipping silently down your face. Susie eased you back against the couch, keeping one arm around you. You leaned into her instinctively, exhausted. She brushed her thumb over your knuckles in small, soothing motions.
“She’s safe, love,” Susie murmured. “And so are you. He’s losing control — that’s why he’s trying to scare you again. He knows he’s losing. But you have people on your side now, real people. You’re not alone anymore.”
Your voice broke into a whisper. “I don’t know what I’d do without you both.”
Susie smiled softly. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.”
When Toto returned a few minutes later, Emilia was fast asleep again, tucked in with her new teddy bear. He looked a little less stern now, his voice low as he joined you both on the couch.
“She’s settled,” he said. Then, glancing at you, his tone gentled even more. “And you should be too.”
You nodded, but your breathing was still uneven. Susie gave Toto a knowing look before she shifted slightly, tucking you between them. It wasn’t planned — just natural. Susie on one side, Toto on the other, both quietly protective, solid presences anchoring you.
You finally exhaled, eyes fluttering shut. The weight of everything pressed down on you, but for the first time in weeks, it didn’t feel unbearable.
Susie’s hand rested over yours; Toto’s arm brushed your shoulder as he leaned back. The room was silent but for the faint hum of the sea breeze through the open window.
Sat there — between the fear, the exhaustion, and the quiet — something else began to take shape. Safety. Trust. The quiet, unspoken warmth of two people who weren’t just your bosses anymore, but something far more constant. When sleep finally came, it was gentle. And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t dream of running — only of peace.
f1gossipgirls : today was the custody hearing for yn russell and her ex, ceo, fn ln. it seems as if yn had the entire paddock behind her as carmen mundt, george russell, alex albon, lily muni he and toto and susie wolff were seen entering the courthouse. we are unsure the outcome at this time but susie and toto were all smiles as they left the courthouse.
The courtroom feels suffocating. The air is still and heavy — the kind that makes it hard to breathe, like the world is holding its breath and waiting for a verdict.
You sit quietly at the front, your hands laced together so tightly your knuckles have gone white. The hum of murmured conversations echoes faintly in the background. Your lawyer’s calm voice cuts through now and then, steady and sure, guiding you through each moment. You can feel the weight of every eye in the room on you — judges, lawyers, clerks, even your ex, sitting just a few feet away with that same smug smirk that used to make your stomach twist. But not anymore. Not today.
Behind you sits your small army — George and Carmen, side by side, his hand gripping hers like his life depends on it. Alex and Lily, whispering quietly to each other, their eyes occasionally flicking up to watch the proceedings. Toto and Susie, sitting perfectly still, calm but protective, like they’re ready to step in at any second.
They’ve all seen you at your lowest — the fear, the anxiety, the exhaustion. But today, they see you fighting. It’s a long day. The legal jargon, the statements, the objections — it all blurs together after a while. But certain moments slice through the haze. George’s testimony.
He stands there, tall and sure, his usually calm voice trembling as he speaks. He tells the court about the nights you called him shaking, crying because of what your ex had done. About the times he’d seen the bruises and the way you’d tried to hide them under sweaters and makeup. About the fear in your voice when you talked about leaving.
He pauses for a moment — just long enough to look over at you. His eyes are wet, his jaw tight.
“I saw what he did to her,” he says finally, his voice cracking, raw.
“And I’ll never forget it. She didn’t deserve any of it. No one does. She’s… she’s one of the strongest people I know, and she’s the best mum I’ve ever seen.”
You can’t stop the tears that spill then. Carmen reaches forward and rests a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently, a silent reminder that you’re not alone.
Kimi goes next. He’s nervous at first — he’s not used to things like this, and you can see him fidgeting slightly with his jacket. But the moment he starts talking, the sincerity in his voice fills the room.
“She’s like another mother to me,” he says simply. “She looks after me when I’m away from home. She’s always kind. Always patient. I’ve seen how she is with Emilia. She’s the most amazing parent I’ve ever met. Emilia’s happy. She’s loved. That’s because of her.”
His voice doesn’t shake, but yours almost does. You reach for the tissue box on the table, dabbing at your eyes, overwhelmed by the loyalty and love radiating from the people behind you. Your ex’s lawyer tries to recover, to twist, to argue — but it’s empty. There’s no evidence. No proof. Nothing but bitter words and hollow claims.
And you — you have a mountain of truth behind you. Photos. Police reports. Witnesses. Friends who’ve seen the aftermath. By the time the judge begins speaking again, the world feels like it’s underwater — muffled, blurry, spinning. You can barely register each word until the one that matters most breaks through the fog:
“Full custody awarded to the mother.”
Your breath catches. For a split second, you don’t move. You don’t breathe. And then the room erupts. Carmen lets out a quiet sob, her hands covering her mouth. George buries his face in his hands for a moment before pulling you into the tightest hug he’s ever given you, his voice breaking against your shoulder as he whispers, “You did it. You did it.”
Alex and Lily join in, all teary smiles and soft words of pride. Even Toto and Susie — usually so composed — can’t hide the emotion. Toto claps a hand on your shoulder, firm and proud. Susie pulls you into a warm, embrace, murmuring against your hair, “It’s over, sweetheart. You’re safe now.”
But not everyone is celebrating. Your ex storms out of the courtroom, his jaw tight, his fists clenched, fury radiating off him like heat. George notices immediately. He releases you gently, his expression darkening as he follows. You catch a glimpse of him intercepting your ex just outside the doors.
No shouting, no chaos — just George, standing tall and composed, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the air. You can’t hear what he says, but you see the way your ex’s face hardens, the way his jaw ticks before he turns and walks off without another word.
George comes back a minute later, his expression softer now.
“Handled,” he says simply, brushing it off, though there’s still a storm behind his eyes.
Toto and Susie exchange a look — one you can’t quite place. You’re still shaking slightly, the adrenaline, the relief, the disbelief coursing through you all at once. You lean against Susie for a moment, grounding yourself in her calm.
When the reporters gather outside, Toto’s security team moves quickly, keeping everyone at bay. You, George, and Carmen slip into one car, the rest following behind.
Back in the quiet of the hotel room, your body finally gives out. Every muscle aches. You feel like you’ve run a marathon with your heart in your hands. George sits beside you, still holding your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles.
“You did it,” he whispers again. “You did it for you and for Emilia.”
Before you can respond, there’s a soft knock on the door. Toto and Susie step inside — both smiling in that way that feels warm and secretive. They exchange another quick glance before Susie says, gently, “Now that everything is settled… we’d like to steal you away for a bit. Just one night. You deserve to breathe again.”
You blink, exhausted but curious. “Steal me away?”
Toto’s smile grows. “Let’s just say… we have something planned.”
You can tell from the look in their eyes that it’s something special — something they’ve been holding onto for this exact moment. For the first time in months, you let yourself smile — small, tired, but real. You won. You’re free. And maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to start living again.
The drive to the villa is quiet, but it’s a kind of quiet that feels peaceful — not heavy, not awkward. Just… calm. The sound of the ocean hums in the distance as the car winds through narrow streets, the city lights fading behind you. Toto’s hand rests casually on the console between you, close enough that your fingers brush every so often, while Susie’s gentle voice fills the silence now and then, soft with laughter and ease.
When you arrive, it’s almost too perfect to be real. The villa sits on a small hill, washed in pale gold light, overlooking the Mediterranean. The air smells of salt and citrus, and the terrace is lined with string lights that sway in the breeze. Inside, everything feels warm — intimate. A single table is set up by the terrace doors, candles flickering against crystal glasses and white linen.
Susie smiles as you step closer, a hand lightly brushing your arm. “You deserve something beautiful after the weeks you’ve had,” she says, and there’s something in her tone — soft and full of care — that makes your chest ache. Toto simply nods in agreement, his gaze steady on you in that way that’s always made you feel seen, understood.
Dinner is slow and easy. You talk about Emilia, about the hearing, about how the air feels lighter tonight than it has in months. Toto tells a story about a ridiculous sponsorship meeting, and Susie teases him, and you laugh until your cheeks hurt. But under it all, there’s something else — an undercurrent you can’t quite ignore. When you glance up, Toto’s eyes are already on you. When Susie leans forward to refill your glass, her fingers linger on your wrist.
As the night wears on, the candles burn low. Toto leans back in his chair, studying you quietly before he says, low and certain, “You know, I meant it when I said you deserve something beautiful. You’ve carried so much on your shoulders, and you’ve done it with such grace.”
You smile, trying to shrug off the emotion tightening your throat. “I had to. There wasn’t really a choice.”
Susie reaches across the table and takes your hand. “But you did it. And you never stopped being kind, even when life wasn’t.” Her thumb traces slow circles over your knuckles. “Toto and I have both admired that for a long time.”
You glance between them — the two people who have become so much more than your bosses. Your pulse stutters when you realize how they’re looking at you — open, tender, like there’s something unsaid that’s finally about to surface.
Toto exhales softly, as if making a decision. “I’m not sure when it happened,” he admits. “Maybe when I first saw how fiercely you love Emilia. Or maybe when I saw how you carry yourself, no matter what the world throws your way. But somewhere along the way, I started caring for you. Deeply.”
The words hit you like warmth, spreading slowly through your chest. You glance at Susie, who smiles — a little nervous, a little knowing. “You’re not alone in that,” she says gently. “I’ve felt it too. We both have. We didn’t want to make things complicated for you, especially with everything you’ve faced, but… it’s been there for a long time.”
Your breath catches. “I— I don’t know what to say.”
Susie squeezes your hand. “You don’t have to say anything right now. We just wanted to be honest. You mean a lot to us — not just as part of the team, not just as George’s sister. You mean something to us.”
You look between them, heart racing, and it’s all too much and yet exactly what you’ve needed. “I don’t know when it started for me either,” you admit softly. “But I’ve felt… something. For both of you. I just didn’t think— I didn’t think I could.”
Toto’s lips curve into a small, warm smile. “There’s no rush. No expectations. Just… honesty.”
Later, the three of you move to the terrace. The air is cool, the stars endless above. You sit between them on the cushioned bench — Susie on one side, her hand lightly resting over yours; Toto on the other, close enough that his arm brushes your shoulder when he leans back.
For a long time, no one speaks. The silence feels full — of trust, of relief, of something unspoken that no longer needs words. Susie eventually leans her head against your shoulder, and you instinctively rest yours atop hers. Toto’s arm settles along the back of the bench, his fingers brushing gently against your arm.
You stay like that for hours — just breathing, just being. For the first time in a long time, you feel safe. Not because you’re being protected, but because you’re being seen.
When you finally glance up at Toto and meet his eyes under the dim terrace light, there’s no need for words.
The first light of dawn seeps gently through the wide terrace doors of the villa, painting the room in pale gold. You stir slowly, your body still heavy with the sleep of relief, of exhaustion, of everything that’s finally behind you. For a long moment, you don’t open your eyes — just let the quiet of the villa wrap around you.
Susie is pressed against your side, arm draped over your waist in a protective, comforting hold. Her hair brushes softly against your cheek, and the steady rhythm of her breathing is almost hypnotic. You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips; even in sleep, her presence feels grounding, safe.
And then there’s Toto. His arm rests along the back of the couch, fingers lightly brushing yours when he moves. Even asleep, his closeness feels deliberate, comforting, a quiet declaration of his protective presence. The subtle pressure of the two of them flanking you makes your chest swell in ways you’re only beginning to understand.
You finally open your eyes to see them, both half-awake, looking at you in that calm, steady way that makes your heart skip. Susie smiles softly, sleepy eyes crinkling at the corners. “Morning, love,” she murmurs.
“Morning,” you whisper back, your voice hoarse from the late-night confessions and tears.
Toto shifts slightly, letting his hand brush against yours more deliberately. “Sleep well?” he asks, though the question is rhetorical; he already knows the answer from the tension slowly melting from your body.
You nod, stretching just enough to feel the warmth of Susie and Toto on either side of you. “I think… for the first time in a long time, yes,” you admit.
There’s a moment of quiet, almost tender silence. Then Susie leans up to press a soft kiss against your temple, careful not to wake you fully, just a whisper of affection. “I’ve wanted this — all of this — to feel safe with people who love you. We love you,” she whispers, the words lingering between you like a promise.
Toto’s voice follows, low and deliberate. “We both do. And not just in the way that’s… convenient. We care about you, YN. Deeply.” His fingers curl slightly around yours, the contact grounding you further, sending a warmth through your chest that has nothing to do with the morning sun.
Your pulse quickens. “I—I feel the same,” you admit, voice quiet but sure. “I’ve felt… something for both of you for a long time, but I didn’t think… I didn’t want to complicate anything.”
Susie hums softly, brushing her thumb over the back of your hand. “There’s no complication here,” she says. “Only honesty. Only what’s real.”
You glance at Toto, whose eyes are soft, intent, steady on you. “And you?” you whisper, voice barely audible.
“I’ve waited to see you like this,” he says. “To see you safe. To see you… open. And now, I’m glad I didn’t wait any longer.”
The three of you shift closer, a quiet, natural choreography that feels almost instinctive. Susie moves to rest her head against your shoulder again, and Toto leans in slightly, resting his head near yours so that the three of you are a tangle of warmth and quiet comfort.
Your hands find their place — one on Susie’s arm, the other brushing against Toto’s chest. Each touch is soft, deliberate, intimate in its own way, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings that have been building for years.
Susie hums, a gentle, contented sound that vibrates softly against your shoulder. “This,” she murmurs, “is perfect. Just us. No chaos, no stress, no… anything else.”
You close your eyes, taking it in — the way the morning feels, the way their warmth feels pressed against you. The villa is quiet except for the distant hum of the sea and the faint rustle of wind through the terrace. For a moment, the world outside doesn’t exist. There’s no ex, no court hearings, no fear. Just the three of you.
Toto shifts slightly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I want to savor this,” he says softly, voice low. “Every second of it. Just… us.”
You let out a quiet laugh, despite yourself, the tension in your shoulders easing further. “I think I could get used to this,” you admit, voice soft, teasing, but tinged with warmth and sincerity.
Susie smiles, leaning up just enough to press a kiss against your cheek this time, lingering just long enough to make your pulse stutter. “Good,” she whispers. “Because this isn’t going anywhere.”
The three of you sit like that for a long while, tangled together, sharing warmth and quiet touches — fingers brushing, shoulders leaning, little brushes of lips and hands that aren’t hurried but deliberate, a promise of presence. You talk quietly, about small things at first — the villa, the ocean, what’s for breakfast. But gradually, the conversation shifts, deeper and more personal: hopes, fears, things you’ve never said aloud.
Every word feels heavier, more meaningful, because it’s shared with people who care for you in ways you’ve never known. Every glance, every touch, every hum of agreement or soft smile builds something solid between you, something that feels unshakeable.
Hours pass like this. Sunlight grows stronger, washing the villa in pale gold, and still, no one moves away. You’re entwined in the quiet intimacy of the morning, wrapped up in a cocoon of care, affection, and something more — something electric in its softness, thrilling in its simplicity.
At one point, Susie stretches just enough to rest her head against your chest, and you can feel her heartbeat, steady and real. Toto’s hand finds yours again, fingers twining with yours, and he leans closer so that your arms press together. The three of you are just… there. Present. Safe. Warm.
And for the first time in years, you let yourself truly believe that love — complicated, unexpected, and perfectly messy — could be this gentle, this protective, this real. You breathe it in, close your eyes, and let the sun, the warmth, and the presence of these two incredible people wash over you. And when you finally speak, it’s quiet, almost a whisper:
“I think… I’m ready for this. For us.”
Susie hums, fingers brushing your cheek. “We are too, love. Always.”
Toto squeezes your hand, voice low and sure: “And we’ll take every step together. Always.”
It’s early morning, and the scent of coffee and fresh croissants drifts from the kitchen. Emilia, now laughing at a toy car Jack has just nudged down the hallway, races to see who can reach the breakfast table first. The sound of her giggle is infectious, and you can’t help but grin, your heart swelling as you watch her energy bounce through the apartment.
Susie is perched on a stool at the kitchen counter, flipping pancakes with a practiced ease, her hair falling in loose waves around her face. She hums softly to herself, and every so often she glances up, catching your eye and smiling that gentle, knowing smile that has become a constant source of warmth in your life.
Toto is leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, coffee in hand, watching the scene unfold with a small, contented smile tugging at his lips. Jack’s tiny hands are tucked into Toto’s, both of them kneeling on the floor as they build a small tower of blocks together, completely absorbed in their own little world.
You watch them from the sofa, your legs tucked beneath you, sipping a cup of coffee you didn’t even need because your chest is already full. Emilia runs past, skidding slightly on the polished floor before catching herself and throwing herself into Susie’s side, squealing. Susie wraps an arm around her, lifting her slightly so she can twirl her, laughter spilling from both of them.
“Someone’s competitive today,” Toto teases as Emilia dashes back to the hallway to race Jack again.
You laugh softly, shaking your head. “She gets it honestly. From George, probably.”
Susie nudges you gently with her elbow, leaning close. “And maybe a little from you,” she says, a soft warmth threading through her words.
Toto comes over and crouches beside you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear with a tender touch. “She’s lucky to have you,” he murmurs, voice low, almost private, though your chest tightens at the simplicity and sincerity of the statement.
You reach out, letting your hand rest over his. “We’re all lucky,” you reply, glancing around at the chaos — the laughter, the tiny feet running through the apartment, the smell of fresh pancakes — and realizing just how true that is.
The morning stretches lazily, full of small moments: Susie leaning against your shoulder as you flip through a magazine together, Toto teasing Emilia about how she’s stacking her blocks “all wrong,” Jack squealing in delight as he topples them deliberately, and you catching Susie and Toto exchanging glances that are all soft amusement and affection.
At one point, the kids come running to you both, arms full of mismatched socks, toy cars, and a small plush bear. “Look!” Emilia exclaims, holding it up proudly. “It’s for all of us!”
Susie and Toto exchange a glance, and then Toto chuckles. “It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
You lean back on the sofa, Emilia climbing into your lap while Jack curls up next to Toto, and the four of you just sit there, soaking in the quiet chaos. Susie drapes herself across the back of the sofa, head resting lightly on your shoulder. Toto nudges you gently with his knee, eyes sparkling with warmth.
There’s a comfortable rhythm to the home now — laughter and teasing interspersed with quiet, tender moments of just being together. You pour a little milk into Emilia’s cereal bowl while Susie strokes her hair, Toto offers Jack a piece of toast, and you glance at the pair of them, realizing that this — this feeling, this home, this family — is what safety, love, and happiness look like.
After breakfast, the three adults retreat to the terrace with coffee, letting the kids chase each other around the apartment. Sunlight warms your shoulders, the sea breeze rustles the light curtains, and the city hums gently below. You lean into Susie, letting her arm wrap around your waist, and Toto leans close enough that his shoulder brushes against yours, his hand resting lightly over Susie’s on your arm.
“I never thought I’d feel like this again,” you murmur quietly, more to yourself than anyone else, though both Susie and Toto hear.
Susie tilts her head, pressing her lips softly against your temple. “You’ve deserved it for a long time,” she whispers.
Toto reaches out, fingers brushing against yours. “And you’ve earned every bit of it. Every single moment.”
The three of you sit there like that for a long while, hands touching, shoulders brushing, hearts warm. Emilia and Jack eventually join you on the terrace with a small ball, rolling it between the four of you, giggling and squealing in delight. Laughter echoes across the villa, mixing with the sound of the sea.
As the sun climbs higher, you catch a glance at the view: the city stretching along the coast, the sparkling water, the warm golden light spilling into your little corner of the world. You realize, with a depth of peace you haven’t felt in years, that this — this life, this family — is exactly where you’re meant to be.
The kids collapse on the terrace, sprawled out in heaps of giggles and small yelps. Susie wraps an arm around your shoulders, Toto drapes his arm across both of you, and for a moment, the world outside doesn’t exist. Just laughter, warmth, and the soft, endless joy of being exactly where you belong.
you're toto's daughter, never cared about F1. until summer break, when the grid showed up in your comment section and and a papaya boy got your attention.
__________________
yourinstagram
liked by bff2, bff4, totowolff, susiewolff, and others
yourinstagram a fun night before summer break arrives🌺
bff1: still can't believe the place thought we're filming a movie
⤷bff3: and it's our first time coming too😭
bff2: we need to do one moreeeee before the summer break arrives
⤷yourinstagram: I fear I can't, i had schedule packed up☹️
susiewolff: looking good, darling🤍
⤷yourinstagram: thank you, mom
yourinstagram
liked by susiewolff, bff2, bff4 and others
yourinstagram a morning after a loud night
bff3: you mean breakfast after champagne last night
⤷yourinstagram: shhh don't expose me
totowolff: did you spend again
⤷yourinstagram: TYSM DAD🥰🤍
⤷totowolff: do me a favor and attend the race this week before the summer break
⤷yourinstagram: BYE
user: we love our aesthetic queen🔥
bff2: what's your plans on summer breakkk
⤷yourinstagram: HORSEYYYy🐴
totowolff
liked by mercedesofficial, redbullofficial, georgerussell, kimiantonelli, susiewolff, yourinstagram and others
totowolff away from the track this summer break
user: who's the other girl???
⤷user: their daughter
⤷user: TOTO HAS A DAUGHTER?
yourinstagram: i want to go back to my condo
⤷susiewolff: darling, you'll stay the whole summer break with us🤍
⤷yourinstagram: I couldn't even ride a horse and you're forcing me to spend time with dad
⤷user: omg she's so funny😂
user: how come we never seen her in any races?
⤷user: why? is it required???
⤷user: well, some families are shown in cameras you know and knowing toto, camera would have shown his daughter
⤷user: that's trueee
user: remember toto's interview? when he was asked what he'll do in the break last year
⤷user: WHAT DID HE SAY
⤷user: as always, he said he'll go spend the break with susie and his daughter, even the interviewer was shocked that she has a child so they asked him😭😭
⤷user: lmao and then he said his daughter hates f1, she doesn't want to involve herself in it so she never once go in any race
⤷user: i can imagine toto and susie talking about f1 and she's like has a shut up face😭
__________________
_____________________
yourinstagram
liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, bff2, totowolff, susiewolff, mercedesamgf1 and others
yourinstagram why did my followers suddenly go up and almost all the profile has almost have same face, is this like a trend???? anyways, another day with my parents🤍
user: girlie is talking about the fanpages😭😭
user: LANDO FOLLOWING HER RN OMG
⤷user: lewis too!
landonorris: i hope you don't mind the source of the pictures to be following you🧡
⤷yourinstagram: where's the source? where can I block it?
⤷bff2: Y/N😭😭😭
⤷georgerussell: 😂😂😂
charlesleclerc: how come you never know her, @/lewishamilton
⤷lewishamilton: she never attend races
⤷kimiantonelli: even once?
⤷lewishamilton: years working with toto? nope.
⤷carlossainz: so she hates f1
⤷totowolff: she does
user: please tell us how does a toto wolff talks outside work😭
⤷yourinstagram: he tells me about things I don't know such as rain delays, like wdym rain can be delayed?
⤷user: no way😭😭😭
yourinstagram
liked by landonorris, f1tea, maxverstappen, totowolff and others
yourinstagram yes i'm toto and susie's daughter and no, i don't like people who drive in circles and those involved on it, leave me alone
user: 👁👄👁
user: she really said it😭
⤷user: she didn't even hide it
lewishamilton: I can see you got your attitude from toto
⤷yourinstagram: i'm better than him
landonorris: if not f1, how about me?
⤷yourinstagram: i'm not interested in you
⤷georgerussell: straight to the point 😂😂😂
⤷francocolapinto: nice try
totowolff: delete this
⤷yourinstagram: why? i didn't lie and tell these people to stop bothering me
⤷user: she wants her peace back lol😭
oscarpiastri
liked by mclarenofficial, landonorris, georgerussell, yourinstagram and others
oscarpiastri grind never stops
georgerussell: 👊
mclarenofficial: keep it up!
user: why is y/n on the likes
⤷user: omg, you're right i checked
⤷landonorris: so she's interested on my teammate, ggwp
yourinstagram: i love it when men do groceries
⤷landonorris: I can do it too???
⤷yourinstagram: yes, but you'rs not my type
⤷bff3: you won't even last 5 minutes in the paddock because of noise, don't try to be a gf of an f1 driver now
⤷yourinstagram: shut upppp, i never said anything about being someone's gf, i'm just curious ok
⤷bff2: curious about what girl??? 👀
⤷totowolff: yesterday you said “I hate anything that involves f1” now what is this
⤷yourinstagram: dad, please shut up for me
private message between you and your dad
yourinstagram
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, kimiantonelli, lewishamilton and others
yourinstagram I didn't understand a thing but i know one thing, i got his number🤪
landonorris: I lost
⤷georgerussell: mate, you weren't even qualified on the competition
⤷user: LOL
totowolff: explore you said
⤷yourinstagram: i did, i found myself in mclaren
user: I love how we have y/n as a calm, elegant woman but then suddenly she's like this😭
⤷user: who would not get attracted by oscar piastri afterall😞
charlesleclerc: are you guys dating now
⤷yourinstagram: not yet
oscarpiastri: it was nice meeting you
⤷yourinstagram: yes so now ask me for a dinner later
⤷bff3: GIRL😭😭😭
⤷bff2: IS THIS YOU Y/N???? DID SOMEONE POISONED YOU
⤷bff1: this is you when interested ha, now we know🤣
yourinstagram
liked by oscarpiastri, susiewolff, georgerussell, charlesleclerc and others
yourinstagram i still hate f1, i still don't like the noise nor those who drive in circles but now, I have an exemption 🧡
tagged: @/oscarpiastri
user: OMG
user: OMG OMFGGG
user: ARE THEY DATING NOW
totowolff: i don't know what to say
⤷yourinstagram: you'll see me in paddock every race now, aren't you happy
⤷totowolff: really, y/n?
susiewolff: as long as you're happy, darling🤍
⤷yourinstagram: thank you, mom❤🩹
user: “exemption” lmaoooo 😭😭😭
landonorris: congrats ig
⤷yourinstagran: we ain't together yet, muppet, i ain't that easy
⤷user: muppet reference? DO YOU WATCH NOW
⤷maxverstappen: simply lovely
user: she said “leave me alone... except Oscar” HAHAHAH
user: i like her style, i'd like to see her outfits tbh
⤷user: ME TOOO, she slays in her posts, i wanna see her paddock fits
oscarpiastri: 🧡
⤷yourinstagram: 🧡🧡
⤷pierregasly: is this how you guys flirt
⤷user: this soon to be couple is gonna be fucking lowkey and won't post tmi in socmed😭
