The problem with Baku is that it remembers when you get greedy and how unfortunate, greedy is one of seven greatest sins of humankind.

I tell myself I'll only push for a lap. Just once. One lap is all it takes to remind Max that I'm still here. I let the slipstream pull me forward and the car answers immediately with resistance.

The front locks for a half of a heartbeat into the corner, a sharp chirp vibrating through the steering column and snapping straight into my bones. It's tiny and manageable but the vibration stays like a warning that's already been issued. I know problems would occur eventually if I keep forcing it. Tom tries to keep his voice calm but he's not really good at hiding tension.

"Front left, might need to examine damage."

I back off, pulse racing painfully hard, jaw tight. The edge is there, reminding me that Baku doesn't offer many second chances. I devour every piece of information fed to me through team radio as things start to shift behind me.

Lindblad finally does something but definitely not for me. He moves just wide enough into one braking zone, letting Charles Leclerc slips past him cleanly without a fight. Such a generous move coming from a rookie.

Charles doesn't waste time. Within a lap, he's after Oscar, aggressively wanting to take over. "Oscar's under pressure. Ferrari pushing. Leclerc P4."

So this is the next layer. I should have known better that Ferrari will be more than happy to take a part in this game, siding with Red Bull, trying to beat us up. They don't need to win with this move, just need to make it uncomfortable for us.

Lindblad drops back, his job is done here because Reb Bull doesn't care about his race result today, not if he's already served his purpose. Leclerc fills the space Lindblad vacated, applying pressure from behind in a way that's louder and harder to ignore. Oscar has to defend now. He has to choose a line and focuses fully on that line.

And here I am, still stuck behind Max Verstappen. The trap is fully revealed itself.

If I push again - harder this time - I risk turning that small lock-up into something terminal which might even get me DNF by the end of this race. If I don't, Oscar still has to fight Charles in every lap on degrading tires, points no longer enough to get us the Championship. Either way, Red Bull wins without lifting a finger.

"Box, now".

Tom shouts out so suddenly, leaves no room for me to ask why. There's something hanging in his tone that I don't dare to keep going for one more lap and immediately find my way to McLaren garage.

***

The pit exit drops me back into daylight and spacious line.

For the first time since the start, there's no car directly in front of me, blocking my way over and over again. The walls are still close but no longer threatening the way it used to few minutes earlier. Fresh tires bite immediately, the steering firms again, promising a better result.

"P6 Lando. Clean air. Delta target plus 3.4 seconds"

Sixth doesn't scare me, being trapped does. A new situation is already formed ahead of me. Max is leading the little group we were stuck in earlier with Oscar right behind. Right on Oscar's gearbox is Charles, the red Ferrari is impatient as hell that I can taste it even without seeing it.

This is what Red Bull wanted. Max controlling the pace, Oscar under pressure, Charles chasing hard, me neutralized behind them. Except now I'm not there anymore.

While I run clean laps in open air, Oscar holds position in traffic. He doesn't treat Charles like it's a duel, he forces the Monegasque driver to go the expensive way in terms of tires. Oscar answers to Charles's presence by being stubborn and calm.

Behind Charles, Max starts to feel it. If Red Bull pits Max now to cover me, Oscar inherits the lead with clean air. If they leave Max out to control Oscar, my lap times start to matter more and eventually I can climb up to pass all of them, getting myself the first position. They can't protect both fronts.

I don't bother to chase glory, keep repeating laps that don't abuse the tires and don't invite mistakes. Each sector clicks together the way it's supposed to. The gap behinds me stretches, the gap ahead of me starts to shrink.

Up front, the tension finally fractures. Red Bull blinks first. Max dives into the pit lane to cover me, make sure I won't be able to undercut further. The moment he does, Oscar is released.

Oscar crosses the line into clean air as the new race leader. His lap time drops instantly but there are still 23 laps remaining – long enough to unravel if we get greedy again. Charles finally follows Max into the pit a lap later although it's kind of late to undo the damage. Lindblad tries to reinsert himself into the equation but the race has already moved past him. His job was to delay Oscar and let Charles passed. It was useful back then, no longer relevant now.

By the final stint, we are no longer surviving the trap. We've reshaped it. Oscar emerges ahead - clear and controlled. I'm further back but exactly where I need to be, every lap ticking the numbers in our favor.

Red Bull didn't expect us to let go of track position willingly. They though we'd cling to it, defend it. Die by it if we had to. They built the trap around that assumption but we broke the symmetry.

As the laps wind down, Tom feeds me the number I don't need to hear twice – Oscar's position, Max's gap, tire life projections. I keep on driving, more focused than ever like none of them matters to me. That's how you win a championship. Not by being flawless but by knowing which risks are worth taking and which ones you refuse to think of.

Max tries to overtake Oscar once at the very last lap, the kind of half-commitment that looks aggressive on replay but never really threatens. Oscar reads into it immediately and answers by doing nothing dramatic at all but blocks all of Max's possible choices, which is somehow impressive as hell.

I glance up at the big screen placed in the middle of the track when the race is done to see Oscar's name sitting at the top, solid and challenged. We did it together.

Three years with three continuously World Constructors' title. And now it's time to bring it home, again.