Carlos wasn’t sure why Sophie Verstappen had invited him over. The message had been so polite, but something about the tone felt... purposeful. Now, sitting stiffly on the edge of a plush armchair in the Verstappen family’s sunny sitting room, he watched as Sophie gracefully poured tea into delicate china cups.

"Milk? Sugar?" she asked with a sweet smile.

"Ah—just milk, please," Carlos replied, trying to relax.

She handed him the cup, settled into the seat opposite him, and without missing a beat, launched into what seemed like a rehearsed speech.

"You know, Carlos, I truly believe Max is such a special young man." Sophie’s eyes glowed with maternal pride. "He’s always been so determined. Even when he was little—such a focused boy. I remember once, he spent hours fixing a toy car that had broken. He wouldn’t rest until it was perfect again. That’s the kind of man he is: persistent, reliable."

Carlos smiled politely, lifting his cup to hide it. "Yes... Max is very dedicated."