Being the first female Formula 1 driver in the sport's history is like being struck by lightning. Powerful, electrifying, and dangerous. Don't get me wrong, it's incredible. Plenty of racing fans are celebrating. Plenty more are enraged, hoping I either quit or crash. They can hope all they want. I'll never quit. But there's more than Formula 1 fans to worry about. Like shaking hands with my Team Principal for the first time and his scent turning my entire world upside down. Like the rest of his pack-including the current Formula 1 champion-matching with me too. One breath, and we belong to each other, body and soul. In their arms I'm more than just a racer. I'm an Omega. I'm safe with them. For the first time, I can be what my designation craves instead of what my sport demands. Soft, spoiled, pleasured, and loved. Their fierce desire to win is only matched by one thing-their passion for me. But the rookie Omega in a pack with her boss, the champion, and her crew is a PR disaster of global proportions, and I won't be the only one with a target on my back. If the five us want to make it through the racing season? No one can ever know.