Chapter Thirty-three: Andretti's pov

Andretti could not sleep that night, meeting his Father was unsettling, he should have known he would be there, it was his Father's birthday and his grandfather had no grievances against him, even his brother. They would not understand the hurt he went through as a child.

He would not forget what happened when he was Ten, how one day he stood nervously in his father’s private office, he could vividly remember the dark, wood-paneled room filled with heavy furniture and an ever-present haze of cigar smoke.

His father sitting behind an imposing oak desk, casually lighting a cigar as he surveys paperwork. The dim lighting casts deep shadows across the room, creating an air of both luxury and menace.

Andretti fidgety, his small hands clenched into fists at his sides, his school uniform rumpled from a day that didn’t go well. His heart racing as he prepared to tell his father about what happened at school, his mother knew what had happened earlier told him to go and meet his father, kn