𝖫𝖫

The first time Toto Wolff saw her, the world seemed to stop. She stood at the end of the dimly lit corridor beneath the Mercedes headquarters, motionless and silent. Her dark hair fell around her shoulders like a veil, her pale skin almost luminous beneath the fluorescent lights. The icy blue eyes that met his were impossibly familiar—his own eyes staring back at him from a face he had never seen before. For a moment, Toto couldn’t breathe. Every rational thought deserted him. It felt as though a ghost had stepped out of a forgotten dream and taken human form. The young woman looked no older than twenty-five, yet there was something ancient behind her gaze. Something hungry. Something lonely. The room around them faded into nothing. Engineers walked past. Phones rang. Somewhere in the distance a car fired to life. Toto heard none of it. Because standing before him was the daughter he had never known existed. She watched him carefully, as if studying whether he was worth trusting. There was blood staining the corner of her mouth, hastily wiped away, and shadows pooled beneath her eyes despite the unnatural beauty she possessed. A newborn vampire. Newly turned. Frightened, furious, and desperately trying to hide it. Toto took a single step forward. She flinched. That tiny movement shattered something inside him. Not fear of him. Fear of everything. The realization hit like a freight train: she was alone. For all her supernatural strength, all her terrifying power, she looked like a lost child standing in a hallway with nowhere left to go. Toto stared at her, his expression somewhere between disbelief and heartbreak. And for the first time in years, the famously unshakable Team Principal of Mercedes looked as though he had seen a ghost. Because perhaps he had. A daughter torn from his life before he ever knew her, standing before him at last with vampire eyes and a soul full of scars. And in that moment, neither of them knew what to say.