Chapter 1

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I would like to apologize ahead of time if there are errors in translation. You'll have to forgive my use of google translate!
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There are moments in your career that you work towards, and there are moments that can take you by surprise and you hold on tight. I'm sure there are plenty of other scenarios that can impact a career, but I now catch myself believing in both of those statements. My work ethic made me a top female tennis player and that's all I knew. The hold on tight moment came the moment Charles Leclerc accidentally attended my tennis match.

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I hate the rain. All this preparation to only be screwed by the only variable you can't control. Fortunately for me, I was playing on center court which has a roof. Unfortunately for me, we are already have a 3 hour delay.

I decided to try and focus my brain to things I can control. We had about 15 minutes until my opponent and I needed to be in the tunnel, so I decided to take my fitness and mental prep coach's advice and close my eyes to reflect on my career.

What have I accomplished in my 24 years, I thought to myself. I'm the daughter of Gregor and Michelle, two of the best tennis pros in Italy before and after I was born. Of course I was to play tennis, and I was above average in my young career but it was only a favorite hobby.
My mother passed in a car accident when I was 13, so my father and I coped with our grief by diving into the tennis world fully where he became my coach.

And here we are. I'm 24, traveled the world for the last 10 years with my dad/coach, and I joined the ATP tour at 18. In terms of career achievements , I've won some big tournaments like Indian Wells, but my greatest achievement being a runner up in the US and Australian Open. I'm ranked 6th in the world and have serious chances of winning many big tennis slams, especially this Wimbledon.

I love my team, the people I consider family, the feeling of a perfect serve and volley, watching all sorts of sports with my dad while flying all over the world, and I love exploring so many different places and cultures...

But you haven't lived, my brain told me as my last thought before it was match time.

CHARLES POV:

Pierre and I walked into the center court stadium and began eyeing the area in front of us to find our section. We had just finished our race weekend at Silverstone, and both Pierre and I would rather forget about the results. We both love tennis, so we decided to use a bit of our time off enjoying Wimbledon to better our time in the UK.

Pierre and I were here to see Carlos Alcaraz in person, and we were excited to have up close and personal seats to the action.

"Here we are," Pierre said motioning to our seats next to each other. I sat down and looked around. The stadium was beginning to fill up, but the sign on the court caught my interest.

Now: Bonsee (6) v Swiatek (1)
Upcoming: Alcaraz (1) v Mefurt

I nudged Pierre and pointed to the sign, and he followed my hand and read the information.
He shrugged, "more tennis for us, hm," he said smiling nudging his shoulder against mine.

"Guess so," I replied. Pierre followed tennis much closer than I did. "What do we know about these girls," I asked?

Pierre began his explanation of the match while the players were introduced and began warming up. There was a very serious brunette who Pierre pointed out as the number one player in the world.

I listened to Pierre explain her: Machine like, have to play perfect against her, controls the tempo of the game.

While he was talking, I couldn't help but watch the other player. I liked the way she was warming up. She would grin or frown occasionally talking to herself or stepping in rhythm to the warm up music when she could. I heard her call out to her box once when she was practicing her serve, and I'm fairly sure I heard a quick Italian phrase escape from her mouth before shaking her head and returning to serving the ball.

"You always liked the underdog," Pierre chuckled beside me breaking my focus.

"You caught me," I shrugged taking off my sunglasses and cleaning them against the linen of my shirt. "What do you know about this Florence," I asked?

"Aren't you practically from Italy," Pierre teased but caught my side eye as I slipped my sunglasses back on.

"Ne m'insulte pas [Don's insult me]," my Monegasque accent lay thick to every word. My eyes gazed back to Italian tennis player while I listened to Pierre.

"Comes from a tennis family, strong overall game but best at attacking probably. It's debated she has the dirtiest volley or drop shot on tour and could very much be a favorite if she gets the upset today."

My response was delayed while I studied this Florence. Her brown, almost black hair, braided in the ponytail. Her face amazingly relaxed with every explosive hit followed by an expression that told me if she was happy with the way she was warming up or didn't like the way the ball came off her racket. You could tell her eyes and mind were alert as she took in the opponent in front of her. Via Florence [Go Florence]. Pierre interrupted my thought by patting me on the shoulder bringing my attention back to him.

I could feel his eyes on me knowing he had caught me far too focused on this tennis player, but he chose not to say anything. Therefore, I broke the silence not acknowledging the topic he wanted me to. "I can always count on you for tennis. You gonna give me play by play too?" I heard Pierre chuckle. "Let's enjoy a drink," I smiled while he already waved down a server.

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