Luca POV
The trophy had stood in the same glass cabinet for almost eleven years.
It was not the largest trophy I owned, and it was not the most expensive. There were newer ones made from heavier metal, crystal, and polished silver. Some came from races watched by millions of people, while others marked championships that had changed my career completely. Still, the old gold trophy on the second shelf mattered more than most of them because it was the first one that had made me believe I could become the driver my father once thought I would be. I had won it at twenty-one after a season filled with mechanical failures, arguments with the team, and enough mistakes to make several people suggest I was not ready for professional racing. My father had not lived long enough to see me lift it,
