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emjayewrites · 4 days ago

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Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton) (14.2/15) - Part II

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @a-moment-captured, @boujiestpoet, @avngrsfangirl, @cocobutterqwueen @yeea-nah @alika-4466 @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @saturnville @weetjy @lewlewlemon44 @cranberryjulce @chaoticcoffeequeen @periodjosh @melanin-queen369 @niahxo @purplelewlew @f1-football-fiend @imjustheretomanifest @gg-trini @kinggbl @iamryanl @mitruscity @nichmeddar @xoscar03 @eugene-emt-roe @cherry2stems @louvrepool @tremendousstarlighttragedy @ggaslyp1 @lewisroscoelove

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. I've may have watched too much Law & Order: SVU.

CHAPTER 14.2: 'Til The End

The Los Angeles courthouse steps felt endless in the July heat, reporters and photographers crowding the perimeter despite the early hour. Lewis's hand remained steady at the small curve of Rorie's back as they ascended, her flowing Dior maternity dress (a gift from Kim Jones himself) catching the morning breeze. At seventeen weeks, their daughter made her presence known in the graceful way Rorie navigated each step, one hand resting protectively over her bump.

"Mrs. Hamilton! Over here!" "Lewis! A comment about the case?" "Rorie! How are you feeling?"

The cacophony of shouted questions blended together as their security detail maintained a careful barrier. Julian met them at the top of the stairs, his usual composed demeanor a stark contrast to the circus below.

"Ready?" he asked simply, noting how Lewis shifted slightly to shield Rorie from a particularly aggressive photographer.

"More than ready," Rorie replied, her voice steady despite the circumstances. The past months of preparation had led to this moment - facing Deja Barnes in court.

Inside, the courthouse's air conditioning offered blessed relief. Their footsteps echoed through the marble corridor as Julian briefed them on last-minute details. "Deja's new attorney, Margaret Nguyen, has a reputation for aggressive cross-examination. Don't let her rattle you. Stick to the facts we've discussed. District Attorney Jones is a real shark though."

They paused outside the courtroom doors. Lewis turned to Rorie, his eyes full of concern. "You sure you want to be here? No one would blame you if—"

"I need to be here," Rorie cut in softly, squeezing his hand. "She tried to destroy our family, Lewis. She needs to see exactly who she failed to break."

With that, they walked into the courtroom together, hand in hand, their presence commanding attention. DA Jones, seated at the prosecution's table, glanced up from her notes and offered them a brief but confident smile.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton," she greeted warmly, her tone professional but reassuring. "Glad you’re here. Let’s make sure justice is served."

Rorie returned a polite smile, her grip on Lewis’s hand tightening for a moment as they approached their seats with Julian in tow.

As they sat down, the quiet strength radiating from Rorie and Lewis was palpable.

The courtroom fell silent as Judge Morrison took her seat. Deja sat beside Margaret Nguyen, dressed in a conservative navy suit that couldn't quite mask the hostility radiating from her posture. Her eyes locked onto Rorie immediately, a mixture of hatred and something else - perhaps regret - flickering across her face.

The charges rang out clearly in the hushed space: "The State of California vs. Deja Barnes on multiple counts of criminal harassment, attempted extortion, theft of medical records, and conspiracy to distribute confidential information."

DA Jones's opening statement cut through the tension. "Your Honor, this case goes beyond simple harassment or theft of medical records. This is about the calculated betrayal of friendship, orchestrated by Ms. Barnes when her obsession with Mr. Hamilton led her to exploit every confidence Mrs. Hamilton had ever shared with her."

Margaret Nguyen's defense strategy became clear quickly: paint Deja as The Sun's victim rather than a conspirator. But Luisa's testimony shattered that narrative.

"I've worked for Sir and Mrs. Hamilton for three years," Luisa testified, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "They treated me like family. When Ms. Barnes approached me about Miguel's visa… she knew exactly what she was doing."

"And what happened when you refused initially?" Jones asked.

"She said if I didn't help her, she'd make sure Miguel never got back into the country." Luisa's voice cracked. "I was desperate. But when I saw what The Sun published… what they wanted to do to Mrs. Hamilton, to their family…" She paused, wiping a tear. "I couldn't live with myself."

Rorie squeezed Lewis's hand as Luisa detailed how Deja had manipulated her way into accessing not just the IVF records, but had also helped Alexander uncover documentation about Martin Edwards's affair.

When Deja took the stand, her facade cracked. "He noticed me first," she insisted, staring at Lewis. "All-Star weekend, 2017. We had a connection before she came along."

"Ms. Barnes," Jones's voice was precise, "could you describe this alleged 'connection'?"

"He smiled at me. We talked about basketball." Her voice took on a desperate edge. "He remembered my name."

"For how long did this interaction last?"

Deja shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe… five minutes?"

"And based on this five-minute conversation six years ago, you felt justified in stealing medical records and attempting to expose Mrs. Hamilton's most private matters?"

"She wasn't supposed to have him!" Deja burst out, her composure finally shattering. "She knew how I felt about him. She knew, and she went after him anyway."

"Did Mrs. Hamilton know about your interaction with her husband at the 2017 All-Star weekend?" Jones asked calmly.

"No," Deja admitted reluctantly. "I never told her."

"So how exactly did she know 'how you felt about him'?"

Deja's composure cracked further. "She should have known. She was my best friend. She should have..."

"Ms. Barnes," Jones continued, "please tell the court about what happened in Melbourne, Australia in April 2022."

Deja's jaw tightened. "I was just trying to show her the truth."

"The truth?" Jones's voice sharpened. "Or were you attempting to stage a scene to destroy their marriage? Please explain to the court how you gained access to Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton's hotel suite."

"I..." Deja faltered. "I told the hotel staff I was Mrs. Hamilton's friend, that I was surprising her."

"And then?"

"I waited until Lewis came back from qualifying. Made it look like..."

"Like you and Mr. Hamilton were having an affair," Jones finished. "Despite knowing Mrs. Hamilton was in the middle of an IVF cycle at the time."

"She needed to see—"

"Ms. Barnes," Jones interrupted, "please explain the text messages between you and Alexander Davies where you discuss, and I quote, 'using the bastard child angle to really twist the knife.'"

The courtroom gasped as Jones displayed the messages on the screen. Deja's words about exploiting Rorie's parentage, about using Luisa's desperation to access medical records, about staging the Australia incident - all laid bare in black and white.

"I have more messages here," Jones continued, swiping to the next screen. "This one from March 2023, where you tell Mr. Davies, and I quote: 'I know everything about her IVF struggles. Every failed attempt, every heartbreak. When this story breaks, it'll destroy her.'"

Rorie's hand tightened around Lewis's as their private pain was exposed in the courtroom. But she held her head high, their daughter's movements beneath her palm a reminder of everything they'd overcome.

Deja was rendered speechless. "The prosecution rests, Your Honor," Jones stated, returning to her seat.

Judge Morrison turned to Margaret Nguyen. "Your witness, counselor."

Margaret rose smoothly, adjusting her blazer. "Ms. Barnes, could you tell the court about your relationship with Mrs. Hamilton before all of this?"

"We were close," Deja's voice softened slightly. "Since college. I was there for everything - her struggles with her father…"

"And when she began dating Mr. Hamilton?"

"She knew," Deja's voice hardened again. "She had to have known how I felt. I talked about him all the time after that All-Star weekend, about how amazing he was. Then suddenly she's dating him, and she never even mentioned knowing me to him?"

"Objection," Jones interrupted. "The witness has already admitted she never told Mrs. Hamilton about her interaction with Mr. Hamilton."

"Sustained," Judge Morrison ruled.

Margaret shifted tactics. "Let's talk about Alexander Davies. How did he approach you?"

"He said he was doing a story about Rorie. About her rise to fame, her marriage…" Deja paused. "He said The Sun would pay well for insider information."

"Did he pressure you to provide specific types of information?"

"Objection," Jones stood. "The defendant's text messages clearly show she was the one suggesting angles to pursue."

"Overruled. The witness may answer."

"He kept pushing for more," Deja continued. "Said the story needed something juicier than just her background. When I mentioned her dad…"

"So Mr. Davies manipulated you into revealing private information about your friend?"

"Objection!" Jones's voice rang out. "Counsel is leading the witness."

"Sustained."

Margaret changed direction again. "The incident in Melbourne - why were you really there?"

Deja's eyes flickered to Rorie for the first time since taking the stand. "I wanted to talk to her. To explain. But then I saw an opportunity to…"

"To what?"

"To make her feel what I felt," Deja's voice cracked. "Watching them together, seeing their perfect life, their perfect marriage. While I just had those five minutes…"

Margaret stepped closer to her client. "Ms. Barnes, could you describe your emotional state during this period?"

"Objection," Jones interrupted. "Relevance?"

"I'm establishing my client's state of mind, Your Honor," Margaret countered.

"I'll allow it, but tread carefully, counselor."

Deja dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "I was... I felt betrayed. He promised to stay in touch after All-Star weekend."

"Objection, Your Honor," Jones stood. "The defendant has already testified the interaction lasted only five minutes. There's no evidence of any promises."

"Sustained."

Margaret pressed on. "You were distraught, weren't you? Watching your best friend live the life you'd dreamed of with the man who—"

"Objection!" Jones's voice cut through. "Counsel is testifying for the witness."

"Sustained. Ms. Nguyen, please rephrase."

"How did you feel, seeing their relationship develop?"

"I couldn't handle it," Deja's voice wavered. "Every Instagram post, every race weekend, every time she called me crying about the IVF not working... I just kept thinking it should have been me."

"And when Alexander Davies contacted you?"

"He said people deserved to know the truth about her. About her father, about how she was..." Deja paused, glancing at Rorie. "About how she was trapping Lewis with the IVF treatments."

Their daughter chose that moment to kick, as if protesting the lies being told about her parents.

"So you were emotionally vulnerable when The Sun approached you?"

"Objection," Jones stood again.

"Sustained."

Margaret changed tactics. "The Melbourne incident - you've expressed regret about that. Could you explain why?"

Deja's eyes welled with tears that Lewis and Rorie both recognized as performative. "I was desperate. Watching them together, seeing their perfect life… I just wanted her to feel some of the pain I felt."

"No further questions, Your Honor," Margaret concluded, returning to her seat.

Judge Morrison checked her watch. "Given the hour, we'll recess for the day. Court will reconvene tomorrow at 9 AM." The sharp crack of her gavel echoed through the courtroom.

As the bailiff announced "All rise," Deja's eyes locked onto Rorie and Lewis. There was something unsettling in her gaze - not quite hatred anymore, but something more complex, more dangerous. Even as her attorney guided her toward the exit, she kept looking back at them.

DA Jones approached the Hamiltons as they gathered their things. "We're in a strong position," she said in a low voice. "The evidence is overwhelming, and her testimony today did her no favors."

"How much longer?" Julian asked, his tone making it clear he wanted this chapter closed for his clients.

"With the pace we're moving, we should have a verdict by end of week," Jones replied. "Her attempts to paint herself as the victim aren't landing with the jury. You can see it in their faces."

Lewis kept his arm protectively around Rorie as they headed for the exit. "The sooner this is over, the better," he murmured, feeling their daughter's movements against his side where Rorie pressed close.

"Tomorrow we'll hear from the hotel staff in Melbourne," Julian informed them quietly. "Then the digital forensics expert about the text messages. We're almost through this."

As they reached the courthouse steps, they could see Deja being led to a waiting car, but even then, she turned for one last look at them - at the life she'd convinced herself should have been hers.

____________________________________________

The private conference room provided a quiet refuge from the craziness outside. Rorie picked at her salad while Marian watched with concerned eyes. The past two days had been grueling - twelve witnesses, including the Melbourne hotel staff and even a digital forensics expert breaking down the text messages.

"Baby, you need to eat something," Marian urged, pushing the plate closer to her daughter. "My grandbaby needs nutrients."

Rorie shook her head, her hand resting on her bump. "I can't, Mama. Not with…" She trailed off, remembering yesterday's testimony from her former clinic nurse about how Deja had pumped her for information, pretending to be concerned about Rorie's struggles.

"I always knew that girl wasn't right," Marian said softly. "The way she'd look at your photos with Lewis, how she'd ask those strange questions about your relationship. Like she was studying you instead of being your friend."

"I should have seen it."

"Don't you dare blame yourself," Marian's voice was firm. "That girl had screws loose long before you met Lewis. I remember how she used to show up at odd hours, always with some crisis that needed your attention."

A gentle kick from her daughter made Rorie smile faintly. "Your granddaughter agrees with you."

"Smart girl already," Marian smiled, but her eyes remained worried. "You sure you're ready for this?"

Before Rorie could answer, a security guard appeared at the door. "Mrs. Hamilton? Court's resuming."

Lewis was waiting outside the conference room. Rorie took his hand, drawing strength from his steady presence as they made their way back to the courtroom. Marian followed close behind, her prayers barely audible.

The bailiff's voice rang out clear: "The Court calls Aurora Isis Phillips-Hamilton to the stand."

Rorie squeezed Lewis's hand one final time before making her way to the witness stand. After being sworn in, she settled into the chair, adjusting her flowing dress over her bump.

"Please state your name for the record," DA Jones began.

"Aurora Isis Phillips-Hamilton."

"Mrs. Hamilton, could you tell the court about your friendship with the defendant?"

"Objection," Margaret Chen stood. "Relevance?"

"Your Honor," Jones replied, "the defendant's relationship with Mrs. Hamilton is central to establishing the betrayal of trust that led to these crimes."

"Overruled. The witness may answer."

Rorie took a deep breath, her hand instinctively moving to her bump. "We met in college. She became one of my closest friends and was there for everything…"

"And when did you meet your husband?" Jones asked.

"I met Lewis in 2018, about a year after the All-Star weekend she mentioned. She never once told me about meeting him there."

Jones nodded. "Could you tell the court about what happened in Melbourne?"

"Objection! Your Honor, this has already been established through other witnesses."

"Your Honor," Jones countered, "Mrs. Hamilton's direct experience is relevant."

"Overruled. Proceed."

Rorie's voice remained steady. "I was going through our fourth round of IVF. Lewis was at the paddock for qualifying. I was there to surprise him…" She paused. "That's when I found Deja there, staged in our bed."

After Jones finished, Margaret approached with a predatory smile. "Mrs. Hamilton, isn't it true you knew about my client's feelings for your husband?"

"Objection," Jones stood. "Asked and answered."

"Sustained."

Margaret tried another angle. "You enjoyed having power over her, didn't you? Keeping her close, watching her pine after your husband?"

"Objection!" Jones's voice rang out. "Counsel is badgering the witness."

"Sustained. Ms. Nguyen, move on."

"You never considered her feelings when you started dating Mr. Hamilton?"

Rorie's eyes flashed. "How could I consider feelings she never expressed? But more than that - how could she consider my feelings when she tried to destroy my marriage during one of the most vulnerable moments of my life? When she used my struggles with infertility as ammunition?" Her voice cracked slightly. "She wasn't just my friend. She was family. And she used everything she knew about me, every private moment I shared with her, to try to break me."

The jury leaned forward, several members nodding. Margaret's face tightened as she realized the impact of Rorie's words.

"No further questions," Margaret said quickly.

"The witness may step down," Judge Morrison announced. "Ms. Nguyen, does the defense have any more witnesses?"

Margaret stood. "Your Honor, I request a meeting in chambers."

A ripple of surprise went through the courtroom. Judge Morrison's eyebrows rose, but she nodded. "Very well. Counsel, in my chambers. Court is in recess."

Rorie made her way back to Lewis and her mother, her legs slightly shaky after the emotional testimony.

"What just happened?" she whispered as they watched the attorneys disappear into chambers with Judge Morrison.

"Something's up," Julian muttered, his eyes narrowed. "Nguyen must realize how badly this is going."

"The jury's faces when you spoke…" Marian squeezed her daughter's hand. "Baby, you did so good."

Ten minutes later, the doors opened. Judge Morrison returned to her seat while DA Jones quickly approached their group.

"Nguyen asked for a plea deal," she informed them in a low voice. "She wanted probation and a fine, no jail time."

"And?" Julian pressed.

"I said no. With the evidence we have, she's looking at serious time. She tried to destroy lives here."

Judge Morrison called the court back to order. "Counselor Nguyen, your witnesses?"

"Yes, Your Honor. The defense calls Lewis Hamilton to the stand."

Lewis squeezed Rorie's hand before making his way to the witness stand. After being sworn in, he settled into the chair, his posture relaxed but alert.

"Please state your name for the record."

"Sir Lewis Carl Davidson Hamilton."

Margaret approached, holding a presentation clicker in her hands. "Mr. Hamilton—"

"It's Sir," Lewis interrupted, causing Margaret to tilt her head in confusion. "I was knighted by the King of England, so my proper address is Sir Hamilton - Mr. Hamilton is my father, just FYI."

Several jury members and court attendees chuckled softly.

"Sir Hamilton," Margaret declared with a slight frown, "let's talk about 2017. You were quite the party boy then, weren't you?"

"I enjoyed myself," Lewis answered candidly. "I was single, successful. Yes, I had my 'fuckboi era' as people call it."

"And you met my client during All-Star weekend?"

"Apparently. I honestly don't remember the specific interaction she described."

Margaret displayed the first photo on the screen - Lewis with his arm around both Deja and KiKi at what appeared to be a beach party. "Just friends?"

"Just friends," Lewis confirmed firmly. "That photo's from a group trip to Mykonos. There were about fifteen of us there."

She showed another photo - Lewis kissing Deja's cheek while Rorie kissed the other. "This seems rather intimate."

"That was Deja's birthday party," Lewis explained patiently. "I have similar photos with all our friends. You can check my Instagram - I'm affectionate with everyone in my circle. But I never looked at any of Rorie's friends that way. Never gave Deja any reason to think otherwise."

"Are you suggesting my client imagined your connection?"

"Objection, argumentative!"

"Sustained."

"Look," Lewis leaned forward slightly. "You can pull up every photo from every party, every group vacation. What you'll find is exactly what I'm saying - a group of friends hanging out. Nothing more. I never led your client on. I never promised her anything. And I certainly never gave her any reason to think she had the right to try to destroy my marriage."

Several jury members nodded, and Margaret's shoulders tensed as she realized her strategy was backfiring.

Margaret tried another angle. "Sir Hamilton, did you ever contact my client privately?"

"Only in group chats with all our friends. Never one-on-one."

"Yet you had her number?"

"Objection," Jones interrupted. "Asked and answered through previous testimony about group communications."

"Sustained."

Margaret shuffled through more photos. "These trips, these parties... you were very comfortable with my client."

"I was comfortable with all our friends," Lewis replied evenly. "That's what friendship looks like."

After several more failed attempts to imply impropriety, Margaret concluded her cross-examination. DA Jones stood.

"Sir Hamilton, in your own words, what was the nature of your relationship with Ms. Barnes?"

"She was my wife's friend. Nothing more. I never saw her as anything else, never acted in any way that should have given her that impression. I barely remember talking to her at that All-Star weekend."

"And your relationship with Mrs. Hamilton?"

Lewis's face softened as he looked at Rorie. "She's everything. My wife, the mother of our son, and our baby on the way. We've been through so much together - the ups and downs of IVF, building our family..." He turned back to face the jury directly. "What Ms. Barnes did... accessing our private medical records during one of the most vulnerable times in our lives, trying to expose my wife's relationship with her father, staging that scene in Melbourne... it's unforgivable."

His voice grew firmer. "She betrayed not just my wife's trust, but our entire family's. She should be ashamed of herself for working with The Sun to try to destroy us, for exploiting Luisa's situation with Miguel, for using private information my wife shared with her in confidence. The fact she thought a five-minute conversation at a basketball game six years ago somehow justified all this..." He shook his head. "It's delusional."

The jury was hanging on every word. Even Judge Morrison seemed moved. In the gallery, Deja had shrunk in her seat, while Margaret's face had gone pale.

"No further questions, Your Honor," Jones concluded.

Judge Morrison turned to Margaret. "Any redirect, Ms. Nguyen?"

"No, Your Honor," Margaret replied, her voice tight.

"The witness may step down," Judge Morrison announced.

As Lewis returned to his seat beside Rorie, Judge Morrison addressed the courtroom. "Does either counsel have any additional witnesses?"

"No, Your Honor," both attorneys responded.

"Very well," Judge Morrison shuffled her papers. "We'll hear closing arguments tomorrow morning at 9 AM. Court is adjourned." The crack of her gavel echoed through the room.

As people began filing out, Deja's gaze followed Lewis and Rorie, watching as he helped his pregnant wife stand, his hand protective at her back.

"You did amazing," Rorie whispered to Lewis as they left the courtroom.

"Just told the truth," he replied softly, pulling her closer. "Ready to end this tomorrow?"

Behind them, they could hear Margaret urgently whispering to Deja about considering options, but they didn't look back. They'd said their piece. Tomorrow would bring the final chapter of this painful saga.

______________________________________________

The next morning arrived heavy with anticipation. The courtroom was packed as Jones delivered her closing argument, methodically laying out how Deja had betrayed trust, stolen private medical information, and conspired with The Sun to destroy the Hamiltons.

Margaret's closing felt desperate in comparison, still trying to paint Deja as a heartbroken woman manipulated by the media. The jury's expressions suggested they weren't buying it.

As they filed out to deliberate, Marian squeezed Rorie's hand. "Now we wait."

Three hours later - a surprisingly short time for such a complex case - the bailiff announced the jury had reached a verdict.

"That's quick," Marian whispered, her voice tense. "That's real quick."

Judge Morrison addressed the packed courtroom. "Has the jury reached a unanimous verdict?"

The lead juror stood, paper trembling slightly in her hands. "We have, Your Honor."

"What say you?"

"In the matter of The State of California vs. Deja Barnes, on the count of criminal harassment, we find the defendant guilty."

Rorie's hand tightened around Lewis's.

"On the count of theft of medical records, we find the defendant guilty."

Deja began to shake her head slowly.

"On the count of conspiracy to distribute confidential information, we find the defendant guilty."

"On the count of attempted extortion…" the juror paused. "We find the defendant not guilty."

"The jury is thanked and excused," Judge Morrison announced. "Sentencing will take place next week, Monday at 10 AM. The defendant is to remain in custody until then."

"No!" Deja suddenly screamed, jumping to her feet. "You don't understand! She stole everything from me! Everything!"

"Ms. Barnes!" Judge Morrison's gavel cracked sharply. "Control yourself!"

"This isn't fair!" Deja continued, struggling as Margaret tried to calm her. "Lewis was supposed to be mine! She trapped him! She—"

"Ms. Barnes, you are in contempt!" Judge Morrison's voice cut through the chaos. "Bailiff!"

As the bailiff moved to restrain her, Deja's wild eyes found Rorie. "You think this is over? You think—"

The bailiff wrestled her toward the door leading to holding, her screams echoing through the courtroom until they were finally muffled by the heavy doors closing behind her.

Judge Morrison banged her gavel once more. "Court is adjourned until sentencing."

In the sudden quiet, Lewis wrapped his arm around Rorie, pressing a kiss to her temple. Their daughter kicked strongly, as if celebrating the verdict in her own way.

"It's over," he whispered. "It's finally over."

Lewis helped Rorie up, guiding her quickly through the crowd and into a private conference room. As soon as the door closed behind them, her composure finally broke. Months of stress, betrayal, and pain came pouring out as she collapsed into sobs.

"Baby girl..." Marian rushed to hold her daughter as Lewis supported them both.

"It's over," Rorie gasped between sobs, her whole body shaking. "Oh God, it's really over."

Lewis gathered both women into his arms, one hand protectively covering where their daughter was kicking frantically, responding to her mother's surge of emotion. "Let it out, love. Just let it all out."

"My sweet girl," Marian murmured, stroking Rorie's hair as she had when she was small. "You've been so strong."

Rorie couldn't stop crying, months of carefully maintained composure dissolving in the safety of her family's embrace. Every terrible moment - finding Deja in their Melbourne suite, learning about the stolen medical records, seeing their private struggles splashed across the papers - came pouring out in gut-wrenching sobs.

"I trusted her," she choked out. "I trusted her with everything..."

"I know, baby," Lewis whispered, his own eyes wet as he held his wife closer. "I know."

They stayed like that, wrapped around each other, until Rorie's sobs gradually quieted to hiccups and shaky breaths. Their daughter had settled too, as if sensing the storm had passed.

"Ready to go home?" Lewis asked softly, wiping tears from her cheeks.

Rorie nodded, exhausted but lighter somehow. The betrayal would always hurt, but today justice had been served. Today, they could finally begin to heal.

The Parisian morning light filtered through gauzy curtains as Rorie moved above Lewis, her braids falling around her face like a silken curtain. Her skin gleamed, her every curve mesmerizing as she rode him with slow, deliberate movements.

"Fuck..." Lewis groaned, his head tipping back against the pillows as his hands gripped her hips. "Rorie... you’re unreal," he murmured, his voice husky with awe.

Rorie smirked, leaning forward to press her lips to his ear. "I know," she teased, her breath warm against his skin.

His hands slid up her back, holding her closer as he whispered, "You feel so good, baby. I could stay like this forever."

Her laugh was soft and throaty, her movements quickening as they lost themselves in the moment. They both came apart five thrusts later and then she laid on top of him, tracing lazy patterns on Lewis's chest, both still catching their breath. Their daughter was particularly active, as if protesting their early morning activities.

"Think we woke her up," Rorie chuckled, guiding Lewis's hand to where their daughter was doing what felt like somersaults.

"Sorry, baby girl," Lewis murmured to her bump. "Blame your mama for being irresistible."

Before Rorie could retort, tiny fists pounded on their bedroom door. "Mama! Dada! Up up!"

"Speaking of being woken up," Lewis laughed, reaching for his shorts while Rorie wrapped herself in a robe. "Coming, big man!"

As Lewis let an excited Lyric bounce onto their bed, Rorie's phone buzzed with a text from Julian: "Barnes sentencing - 2 years with possibility of parole after 18 months. 5 years probation after release. Mandatory psychiatric treatment. Permanent restraining order granted. No contact allowed with any member of Hamilton family, including social media. Also banned from all F1 events/paddocks worldwide."

"Good," Lewis said, reading over her shoulder while Lyric snuggled between them.

"Sister kick!" Lyric announced, placing his small hand on Rorie's bump.

"She's very active this morning," Rorie smiled, the weight of Deja's sentencing lifting from her shoulders. "Ready to watch Uncle Miles win his medal?"

"He got this," Lewis agreed, checking the time. "Semi-finals start in three hours."

Rorie's phone buzzed again - Julian adding: "She broke down crying during impact statements. Kept apologizing. Judge wasn't moved. Said her actions showed calculated malice, not just emotional distress. The psychiatric evaluation revealed concerning obsessive patterns."

"It's really over," Rorie whispered, leaning into Lewis as Lyric chattered excitedly about breakfast and Uncle Miles's "sword fighting."

"It's over," Lewis confirmed, kissing her temple. "Now let's go watch my best friend win Olympic gold."

"Breakfast first!" Lyric insisted, tugging their hands. "Pancakes!"

As they got ready for the day, Rorie felt lighter than she had in months. Paris sparkled outside their window, Miles had a shot at Olympic glory, and their daughter proved to be just as energetic as her brother. The darkness of betrayal was behind them, sealed away by justice and time.

______________________________________________

Lewis looked like Miles' biggest fan, decked head to toe in Team USA fencing gear with "CHAMLEY-WATSON" emblazoned across his shirt. The Olympic venue was packed, and cameras constantly turned to their section, where Snoop Dogg had been entertaining Lyric with funny faces between matches.

"Uncle Snoop!" Lyric giggled as the rapper pretended to fence with imaginary swords.

"Little man got the moves," Snoop laughed, fist-bumping the toddler.

Nina leaned over to Rorie, both wearing matching "Team Miles" shirts. "The paps are having a field day with this section," she whispered, nodding toward the photographers below. "Lewis Hamilton, Snoop Dogg, and a baby watch?"

KiKi was seated on her other side and she shook her head at the photographers nearby. "Fucking vultures," she muttered to no one in particular, but Rorie heard every word and she squeezed her friend’s arm. Since the court ruling, KiKi had gotten more protective, if possible, and she was supposed to be watching her man win a gold medal, not worry about her. But then again, KiKi will always be KiKi.

Shaun White, sitting with his arm around Nina, chuckled. "Don't forget Spinz trying to teach Snoop fencing terms."

"It's called a parry, Uncle Snoop!" Spinz was explaining enthusiastically. "Not a block!"

The semi-final match was intense, Miles moving with precision and focus. But his opponent, a veteran French fencer, matched him point for point. The crowd gasped as the final exchange ended with Miles just missing his target.

"Fourth place," Rorie sighed as they watched Miles take his position off the podium during the medal ceremony. "He's going to be devastated."

"Still proud of him though," Lewis said, adjusting Lyric on his hip. "Making the Olympic semi-finals is huge."

Later, as Miles approached their group, still in his Team USA gear, his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Sorry I couldn't get that medal."

"Are you kidding?" Snoop stood up to hug him. "You showed out, nephew! Fourth in the world!"

"Uncle Miles sword fight good!" Lyric declared with all the confidence of a toddler, making Miles' smile finally turn genuine.

"Thanks, little man." Miles ruffled Lyric's hair before turning to Rorie. "At least you and my niece showed up."

"Wouldn't miss it," Rorie hugged him tight. "LA 2028, yeah?"

"Maybe," Miles laughed. "But first, I need food. And possibly several drinks."

"Non-alcoholic for some of us," Nina patted Rorie's bump.

Miles then diverted his gaze to KiKi, and Rorie smiled brightly as she recognized that lovey look Lewis was fond of giving her. "Hey baby."

KiKi stretched as much as she could ok her tiptoes, no doubt trying to accommodate Miles’ staggering height, to kiss him quickly on the lips. "You did such a great job today, okay? Don’t dwell on this too much. I’m so proud of you."

As they made their way out of the venue, photographers called out for group photos. Snoop immediately struck a fencing pose, making everyone laugh.

"Alright rockstar, ready for dinner?" Lewis lifted Lyric into his arms as they headed to their waiting van.

"Pizza!" Lyric declared, playing with the curls at the nape of his father's neck.

"Always pizza with you," Lewis chuckled. "Just like your mama."

Rorie watched them from her seat, smiling at their exchange. Lyric had Lewis wrapped completely around his little finger, and she had a feeling their daughter would be exactly the same.

"Uncle Miles meet us?" Lyric asked hopefully.

"Yeah, baby. He's just getting changed first," Rorie assured him. "He'll meet us at the restaurant."

At the trendy Parisian bistro, Lewis kept Lyric entertained in his lap while discussing his upcoming plans with Shaun.

"So after this, I'm doing this whole African tour - Madagascar, Morocco, Senegal. Got some sustainability projects I want to check out, plus some cultural experiences I've been wanting to explore."

"You're leaving your pregnant wife all alone?" Shaun teased, earning a playful swat from Nina.

"Actually," Rorie piped up, sipping her water, "I'm kind of looking forward to it. Give me time to nest, hang out with the girls. Plus, someone needs to supervise the nursery renovation."

Her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number:

"Hi"

Then immediately after:

"It's Aaron. Your brother. I wanted to apologize for everything. Can we meet?"

Rorie's hand trembled slightly as she stared at the message. After everything with Deja, trust didn't come easily anymore.

"You okay, love?" Lewis noticed her expression.

"Yeah," she replied softly, typing back a simple 'yes' to Aaron. "Just really hungry."

The bourbon arrived first, a small mercy as Aaron checked his watch again. Fifteen minutes late - typical. His father had always operated on his own time, everyone else's schedules be damned. The crystal tumbler felt cool against his palm as he took a slow sip, letting the liquid warm his throat.

A flash of movement caught his eye as their waitress approached, all curves and honey-brown skin. "Can I get you anything else while you wait?" Her smile was sweet but knowing.

"Nah, I'm good mamas. Thank you though." He returned her smile, appreciating how her dress hugged her hips as she walked away. At thirty-one, Aaron had mastered his father's charm, but he'd sworn never to deploy it the same way.

The same way that had produced a sister two months older than him.

The math had been eating at him since the news broke. Two months. His mother had been seven months pregnant with him while his father had another child being born. The fucking audacity of it all made his jaw clench.

Martin Edwards finally swept in, all Tom Ford suit and corporate confidence. "Sorry I'm late, son. Board meeting ran long."

"Sure it did," Aaron muttered, but raised his glass in greeting anyway.

The waitress returned, and Aaron watched with growing disgust as his father's eyes tracked her movement, that same appreciative glance he'd caught himself making earlier.

Like father, like son - the thought made his stomach turn.

After ordering and some surface-level chat about Aaron's investment firm, he couldn't hold back anymore.

"Were you ever going to tell us about her?" The question cut through their carefully maintained screen of normalcy.

Martin's face tightened almost imperceptibly. "It's complicated, son."

"Complicated?" Aaron's laugh was bitter. "You went on fucking Piers Morgan and lied through your teeth. Made it seem like you and Mom were separated when you knocked up Rorie's mother. But that's not true, is it?"

"I was put in a corner when the story broke. I had to protect our family name—"

"Our family name?" Aaron's voice rose slightly before he caught himself. "You mean the same name you almost gave to your outside child while my mother was pregnant with me?"

Martin sipped his drink, too composed for a man being confronted about his infidelity. "Your mother and I have an… arrangement. Have for years. She does her thing, I do mine. The only rule was no other children."

"And yet."

"Marian was adamant about keeping the baby. I tried to handle it quietly, but…" Martin shrugged. "At least she never asked for money."

The casual way he dismissed creating and abandoning a child made Aaron's hands shake. "Why not just divorce? Why keep up this fucking charade?"

"Divorce?" Martin scoffed. "Never. It would look bad."

"But having a bastard isn't?"

"Watch your tone," Martin warned, his mask slipping slightly. "You don't understand the complexities of adult relationships—"

"I understand plenty," Aaron cut in. "I understand you're so obsessed with appearances that you'd rather live a lie. I understand why we only saw you at carefully choreographed family events. I understand why Azariah's marriage seems so foreign to me - because I never saw what a real one looked like growing up."

"You're out of line."

"No, you're out of line. Have been for decades." Aaron stood, throwing cash on the table for his drink. "You know what the worst part is? Not the affair, not the lies. It's that you're still trying to control the narrative. Still trying to play puppet master with all our lives."

"Aaron—"

"I'm meeting with Rorie next week," he announced, watching his father's face pale slightly. "Because unlike you, I actually want to know her. The real her, not whatever story you're trying to sell to the outside world."

He left his father sitting there, barely acknowledging the waitress's goodbye. The summer air hit him like a wall as he stepped outside, his mind racing with three decades of realizations. Everything he thought he knew about family, about marriage, about love - all of it filtered through his father's carefully constructed lies.

His phone buzzed - a text from Azariah: "How'd it go?" "About as well as expected," he typed back. "Dad's still Dad." "You good?" Aaron paused, thinking about Rorie, about their upcoming meeting, about all the years they'd lost. "No," he replied honestly. "But maybe I will be."

_______________________________________________

Aaron sat in his car for a moment, taking in the elegant Georgian façade of his sister's London home. Sister. The word still felt foreign on his tongue, especially knowing she existed while his mother was carrying him. Life had a sick sense of humor sometimes.

He checked his reflection, running a hand through his waves and adjusting his gold chain before popping a mint in his mouth. The orange Hermes bag sat in his backseat - the saleswoman had assured him it was foolproof for apologies, though she probably hadn't dealt with many "sorry I was an asshole to my newly discovered sister" situations.

Grabbing the bag and the two teddy bears - one for Lyric, one for the baby - he walked up the path and rang the doorbell, his mind drifting to the headlines he'd read about Rorie's court case. Her supposed best friend doing her dirty like that… maybe trust issues ran in the family.

His own behavior in Barcelona made him cringe now. Lewis Hamilton would've been well within his rights to knock him out that day. Getting his ass beat by a Formula 1 driver - Twitter would've had a field day with that one.

A dog's bark interrupted his thoughts, followed by the patter of small feet and a child's excited "I get it!"

"Lyric Apollo Hamilton, don't you dare touch that doorknob!" Rorie's voice rang out clear and firm.

Aaron couldn't help but chuckle. Black moms really did all share the same tone.

The door opened to reveal Rorie, her bump obvious now in plain white t-shirt and cute overalls, with Lyric beside her. The kid was almost to her waist - though considering Rorie's height, that wasn't saying much. The resemblance to Lewis was uncanny, from the braids to his facial features.

Damn...did her genes even put up a fight? "Hi," Aaron said softly, suddenly nervous.

"Hi," Rorie replied, one hand resting on her bump.

"Can I… can I say hi to him?" Aaron gestured to Lyric.

After Rorie's nod, Aaron crouched down. "Hey little man. I'm your Uncle Aaron."

"Hi," Lyric said shyly, peeking around his mother's leg. "You tall like Dada."

Once introductions were over, he followed Rorie through the house. The kitchen was all sleek marble and natural light. They stood awkwardly for a moment, studying each other's features - same eyes, same nose. Yeah, they were definitely siblings.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Rorie asked. "Water? Coffee? Lemonade?"

"Lemonade would be nice."

As she waddled to the fridge, Aaron gestured to the bags. "I, uh, brought some things. For you and Lyric. And the baby."

"Thank you," she said softly, returning with his drink. Her hand went to her belly again.

"How far along are you?"

"Six months. Due in November." A small smile crossed her face. "It's a girl."

"A girl?" Aaron felt a unexpected wave of emotion. A niece. "That's… that's amazing."

"Yeah," Rorie agreed, then added quietly, "Listen, about Barcelona—"

"I was wrong," Aaron cut in. "So wrong. I was angry at Dad and I took it out on you. Lewis should've knocked my ass out."

A hint of amusement crossed Rorie's face. "He considered it."

"Dad finally told me everything," Aaron said, watching as Rorie leaned against the counter. "About how you were born while my mom was pregnant with me. About their 'arrangement.'" He made air quotes around the last word.

"That must've been…" Rorie searched for the right word.

"Fucked up? Yeah." He took a sip of lemonade. "Makes me question everything, you know? Like was any of it real? The family dinners, the holidays…"

"Mama! Hungry!" Lyric announced as he ran inside the kitchen, tugging at Rorie's clothes.

"What do you want, baby?"

"Apple and peanut butter!"

"Okay, go sit at the island," Rorie instructed, moving to grab an apple. As she started slicing it, she continued their conversation. "Azariah did mentioned that you went to see Martin."

"Yeah, it happened last week in New York." Aaron watched as she carefully spread peanut butter on the apple slices. "He's doing what he does best now - pretending the conversation never happened."

"Here you go, baby," Rorie placed the plate in front of Lyric, who immediately grabbed a slice. "Careful, don't make a mess."

"Thank you, Mama!"

"He's so polite," Aaron observed.

"Lewis is big on manners," Rorie smiled, one hand absently rubbing her bump. "Though sometimes I think Lyric's just naturally sweet."

"Unlike his uncle, huh?" Aaron said ruefully. "I really was an ass in Barcelona."

"You were," Rorie agreed, but her tone was gentle. "But I get it now. Finding out about me… it couldn't have been easy."

"Still. The things I said to Lewis…"

"Dada best!" Lyric chimed in, peanut butter smeared on his chin.

Both adults laughed as Rorie grabbed a napkin to clean his face. "Yes he is, baby."

"I've been…" Aaron paused, watching this domestic scene that felt so foreign yet familiar. "I've been so focused on work, on being Dad's perfect son, that I forgot how to just… be human sometimes. Seeing you with your family, it's made me realize some things."

"Like what?"

"Like maybe success isn't just about board rooms and investment portfolios. Maybe it's about this too - family, love, apple slices with peanut butter."

Rorie smiled, reaching for her own apple slice. "Well, you're welcome to be part of this family. If you want to be."

"More apple please, Mama!" Lyric interrupted again.

"What do we say?"

"Please and thank you!"

As Rorie prepared more apple slices, Aaron felt something shift inside him. Maybe this was what growing up really meant - not corner offices and power moves, but learning to open your heart to new possibilities, new relationships. Even if they came with sticky-fingered nephews.

"Still can't believe that I have another sister," Aaron mused, watching Lyric happily munch on his snack. "I always thought Athena would be the only one I had to worry about."

"Speaking of Athena," Rorie said, wiping peanut butter from Lyric's hands, "she's been amazing through everything. Coming to races, checking on me during the trial..."

"Yeah, she got Dad's media savvy but Mom's heart, thank God." Aaron paused. "Have you... have you met my mom?"

Rorie's hand went to her bump again, a protective gesture Aaron was starting to recognize. "Not yet. I'm not sure she wants to."

"She asks about you," Aaron admitted. "Tries to be subtle about it, but I can tell she's curious. Especially after everything with that Deja person hit the news."

"All done!" Lyric announced, holding up his clean plate.

"Good job, baby. Why don't you go play with Roscoe for a bit? Stay where I can see you."

As Lyric scampered off to find the dog, Rorie turned back to Aaron. "It's been a lot, honestly. Finding out about Martin, dealing with Deja's betrayal, this pregnancy..."

"But you seem happy," Aaron observed. "Like, genuinely happy."

"I am. Lewis, Lyric, this little one," she smiled, patting her bump. "They're everything."

"The Birkin's not gonna fix what I said about your family in Barcelona," Aaron said suddenly. "But I hope it's a start."

"The fact that you're here, trying - that means more than any bag." She paused. "Though I definitely won't say no to the Birkin."

They both laughed, the tension finally breaking.

"Uncle Aaron!" Lyric called from the living room. "Look at Roscoe's trick!"

"Go," Rorie nodded toward her son. "He's been dying to show someone new how he taught Roscoe to 'high five.'"

As Aaron moved to join his nephew, he felt something he hadn't expected - peace. Maybe they couldn't change the past, couldn't fix their father's mistakes, but they could build something new. Something real.

In the soft lighting of their home studio, Rorie sat at the piano, her phone propped up showing Lewis's face as he lounged in what looked like a Moroccan riad.

"Listen to this part," she said, playing a haunting melody. "I wrote it after Aaron left yesterday. It's about family - the ones we're born with, the ones we choose…"

"That bridge is beautiful, love," Lewis said softly. "How did it go with him?"

"Better than I expected. He's… he's trying. It's weird though, seeing pieces of myself in someone I just met." Her hands drifted over the keys. "He brought Lyric a teddy bear."

She turned the camera to show their son fast asleep on the studio couch, clutching said bear.

"Poor little man couldn't keep his eyes open," Lewis chuckled. "These late studio sessions with Mama are wearing him out."

"Speaking of wearing out," Rorie shifted, their daughter particularly active. "How's Morocco?"

"Incredible. Bittersweet though." Lewis's voice grew thoughtful. "Last season with Merc… feels like the end of an era."

"But the beginning of so much more," Rorie reminded him. "The fashion line, the movie–"

A FaceTime request from Justin Bieber popped up on her screen.

"Oh shit, babe - can I call you right back? It's Justin."

Lewis's expression immediately turned concerned. "Yeah, go take care of it. Probably about Hailey."

Rorie quickly switched calls to find Justin's excited face. "Ror! It's happening!"

She could hear Hailey's controlled breathing in the background. Justin flipped the camera to show Hailey in what looked like the back of an SUV, clearly in labor.

"Oh my God!" Rorie squealed. "My godson is coming! Hang on–" She quickly opened her British Airways app. "There's a 6 AM flight, I can be there by tomorrow afternoon–"

"Breathe, baby, breathe," she heard Justin coaching Hailey.

"We're almost at Cedars," Hailey called out between breaths. "Love you, Ror!"

After they hung up, Rorie quickly texted Lewis: "Hailey's in labor! Can you change your flight to LA instead? 🙏🏾"

His response came immediately: "Already on it. See you tomorrow, love. Tell Hails to hold that baby in till we get there 😂"

______________________________________________

In the private suite at Cedars-Sinai, Rorie couldn't stop staring at the tiny bundle in her arms. Jack Blues Bieber had his father's chin but his mother's delicate features, and he was absolutely perfect.

"Look at his little fingers, Lyric," she whispered to her son, who was perched carefully beside her on the plush hospital chair. "That's your new friend."

"He small," Lyric observed, gently touching Jack's hand.

"You were that small once," Hailey smiled from her bed, looking radiant despite having given birth just hours before.

The door opened as Lewis arrived, laden with gift bags. "The party can start now," he grinned, greeting Justin with their signature handshake. "Congratulations, brother!"

"Thanks man," Justin beamed with new-dad pride. "Look what we made."

Lewis made his way to Rorie, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before dropping one on Lyric's cheek. His eyes went soft as he took in the sight of his wife holding the newborn.

"He's gorgeous, Hails," Lewis said, carefully stroking Jack's dark hair. "Got your nose."

"Thank God," Justin laughed.

"He's perfect," Rorie cooed, her own bump pressing against Jack as she held him. "Aren't you, Jack Blues? The most perfect godson ever."

"This'll be us in a few months," Lewis murmured, his hand finding her bump.

"Speaking of," Hailey sat up slightly, "have you guys decided on a name yet?"

"We have," Lewis smiled mysteriously. "But we're keeping it quiet for now."

"That's not fair," Justin protested. "We told you guys Jack's name months ago!"

"Patience," Rorie laughed, carefully passing Jack to Lewis. "Look at your Uncle Lewis, baby boy. He's going to teach you all about racing."

"And fashion," Lewis added, cradling Jack with practiced ease from his experience with Lyric. "Got to start them young."

"Baby sleep lots," Lyric observed seriously, making all the adults laugh.

"Yes they do, big man," Justin ruffled Lyric's hair. "But soon you'll have a baby sister to play with."

Watching Lewis hold Jack while Lyric peered curiously at the baby, Rorie felt her heart swell. In a few months, they'd be back here, introducing their daughter to the world. But for now, she savored this moment - her best friend's happiness, her husband's gentle way with babies, and the pure joy of new life.

"We did good, didn't we?" Hailey said softly, reaching for Justin's hand.

"The best," Rorie agreed, one hand on her bump. "Welcome to the world, Jack Blues."

TO BE CONTINUED....

Can you believe that we have only 3 chapters left???

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