The Three Monacoteers

I WAS BORN IN HYÈRES, France, in 1988. Back then, my parents were working together in their hairdressing salon. After a few years, they divorced. I lived with my mother between Hyères and Marseille before she met Hervé Leclerc and fell in love. We moved to Monaco with him when I was five. At the time, I was trying to process all these changes: a new, clean city with huge boats and sports cars everywhere, a new school (l’école des Dominicaines) run by Dominican sisters, and a new man living with my mother and me. Making friends and adapting to this beautiful city turned out to be easier than expected. Making space for a new father figure, however, was much harder.

Poor Hervé. I recognize now that I didn’t make his life easy in the beginning. It took us a few years to find common ground. I believe that being a stepfather is a journey that requires love, patience, and willpower. Hervé was a very intelligent man with a big heart and a strong personality. He devoted himself to giving my brothers and me the best education. His passions and values were his legacy. Motorsport was his greatest passion. At 18, he entered a racing contest in France, and his impressive performances earned him the chance to compete in the F3 Championship. Due to a lack of funding, he couldn’t make it to F1, so he ended his racing career and joined Mecaplast, the company founded by his stepfather, Charles Manni—or “Charly” to the family.

Technically, Charly was the stepfather of my stepfather, but in reality, I was lucky enough to be considered his grandson and to benefit from his support. I admired him deeply; he was “the boss.” A successful Monegasque entrepreneur, he started Mecaplast from scratch in 1955 and grew it to over a billion euros in turnover by the 2000s. He was extremely pragmatic; nothing was granted without a clear purpose. He wanted us to succeed through effort and hard work. Charly and Hervé had very different personalities but they shared the same values. I often wonder if Charly could have supported Hervé to reach F1—probably, yes. Did this create some frustration for Hervé? Maybe. Nevertheless, Hervé did very well in business for several years, until his passion reemerged in 2002 when he first put Charles in a go-kart.

Growing up in Monaco was a privilege. It’s safe, the weather is amazing, and the village-sized setting creates a real sense of community. In May, school days were limited due to public holidays and the Grand Prix. Back then, F1 cars had V10 engines. I remember being fascinated by their sound—I could hear them from my grandparents’ summer house, 30 kilometers away from Monaco. Hervé watched every race, so we gained a basic understanding of the sport from a very young age.

However, it wasn’t until Charles and I started karting that I truly fell in love with the sport and could spend hours discussing it with Hervé. My brother and I began karting at the track in Brignoles, run by one of Hervé’s old friends, Philippe Bianchi. That’s where I met Philippe’s son, Jules. A year younger than me, Jules had been racing since he was three—and he was incredibly fast. We quickly became close friends, spending every Wednesday afternoon and weekend together with Charles and Jules’ younger brother, Tom. We raced all kinds of karts in every condition, clockwise and counterclockwise. Brignoles had no secrets for us. Those years training with Jules helped me improve rapidly. It’s never easy to catch up in a sport when you start at 14 and are competing against kids with a decade of experience. But on the advice of Jules and Hervé, I managed to fight for wins at the national level—and I loved it. I discovered a world in which only truly passionate families could survive.

Go-karting is the gateway to motorsport. Drivers typically compete from the age of 7 to 15 before moving on to single-seaters or other racing categories. However, karting is not cheap. Today, parents can spend over €200,000 a year for a single season. The professionalization of the sport has made it increasingly difficult to access—even at the youngest levels. Even though budgets were less back then, Hervé had to find sponsors every year to support our seasons. I’m extremely grateful for his support, which allowed me to live those unforgettable years in motorsport. Even though I didn’t end up becoming a professional driver, I learned a lot from the experience—about hard work, dedication, and passion. More importantly, I got to share it with my family and build strong friendships.

I graduated from high school in 2006. At the time, I still wasn’t sure about my future. I only knew two things: I had grown up around entrepreneurs and wanted to become one someday, and I loved motorsport and wanted to be part of the F1 world. Around that time, Hervé had some health issues, which forced him to reduce both his work hours and the budget he could allocate to racing. I understood there wouldn’t be enough money to support two careers. I told Hervé I would stop racing, hoping it could help Charles continue his path. Unfortunately, for our youngest brother Arthur, this period began just as he was old enough to start racing. His career was delayed for many years as he watched Charles win in nearly every category he entered. After completing my Bachelor’s degree, I pursued a Master’s in management with a specialization in finance. I was good at math and enjoyed finance courses, so it felt like a sensible choice. Motorsport was always in the back of my mind. I remember reading an article about an F1 driver’s agent who had originally been a wealth manager. That was the first time I realized wealth management could combine both my passions: finance and motorsport.

In 2011, Charles’s career was at risk. Hervé couldn’t find enough sponsorship despite Charles winning the Monaco Kart Cup. It was thanks to Jules and Philippe, who insisted that Nicolas Todt—the then-agent for Jules and Felipe Massa—meet with Hervé to consider supporting Charles. At the time, Nicolas didn’t usually back drivers that young—Charles was only 13—but he agreed to support him for the remainder of the year. Just a few weeks later, Charles won the World Cup and secured a long-term agreement with Nicolas. Hervé was relieved. He knew that if Charles kept performing, he would have the financial backing to reach F1.

My friendship with Jules grew stronger over the years. We shared the same group of friends between Monaco and Marseille, where he lived. A typical day with him would start with a 10km jog, followed by a karting session, a squash match, and dinner out. It was intense. I’ve never been as fit as I was during those days. In early 2013, I had a few months off after finishing my Master’s. I spent most of my time with Jules, who was at a critical point in his career. After three years of competing at the top level in F1’s feeder series, he was expected to graduate to F1. It was frustrating to see how hard it was for someone with his talent to make it. Jules consistently delivered extraordinary results—often with an ordinary car. He was also a fierce competitor with a strong character. As a reserve driver for Sahara Force India in 2012, we hoped he would be promoted to a race seat in 2013. But just days before the second winter test session in Barcelona, Jules got a call from Nicolas: Force India had confirmed another driver. I found Jules in tears, watching his dream slip away. I remember him saying, “I just want one chance…just one.” He had dedicated his whole life to being ready for F1. At that point, there was nothing he could do. But our grief was short-lived. A few hours later, Nicolas called again: there might be an opportunity with Marussia, and Jules had to get to Barcelona to test. The final decision would depend on that test. Now they were tears of joy. We were going to Barcelona, possibly to join his new team. Ironically, Jules had lost his driving license at the time for speeding—so I drove him. The test was a success. He exceeded all expectations, and a few days later, he was confirmed as a Formula 1 driver with Marussia.

A few weeks after Jules was officially announced as a Formula 1 driver, I started my first job as a portfolio manager in Monaco. I joined a Swiss wealth management firm that had just opened a local office. During the interview, I told the founder I had never made a trade. He hired me anyway and, on my first day, asked me to make several transactions for clients. I had never handled millions before—I thought he was crazy to trust me with no experience. But somehow, everything went well. He was the kind of person who believed the best way to learn was by doing. He quickly gave me significant responsibilities, from managing portfolios and clients to running the office. I learned a lot from him.

Photo: Hervé Leclerc (1963-2017)

At that time, Jules was fighting at the back of the grid with Marussia, which was suffering from a lack of performance and funding. The only real benchmark was his teammate—and Jules beat him 17 times out of 19 in qualifying. Then came the miracle: during his second Monaco Grand Prix in 2014, Jules finished 9th, scoring two points—the only points the team ever scored in its four-season history. We partied hard to celebrate that result. That same weekend, our best friend Norman Nato also won in the promotional category at the Monaco Grand Prix. On Monday morning, after a quick shower to mask the scent of Jimmy’z, I somehow made it to the office by 9 a.m. That was the last time I went to work the day after the Grand Prix.

Meanwhile, Charles had just transitioned from karting to single-seaters, racing in Formula Renault 2.0. He immediately adapted and finished second in his debut season—a huge relief. Some drivers excel in karting but don’t transition well to cars. Charles had one of the most impressive karting records, so expectations were high. Despite being backed by Nicolas, his mileage was limited, and he had to learn quickly and deliver results even faster. His closest competitor at the time was someone named Max. Like Charles, Max had a stellar karting record, and they had already had a few “incidents” on track. Max and his management were preparing for a bold move: skipping the traditional route and going directly to Formula 3, one of the most competitive categories. It was risky, but he proved it was the right decision, securing an F1 seat right after. I’m not sure anyone had ever done that before. Maybe Charles could have done the same, but that option was off the table. His management preferred a step-by-step approach, with the goal of winning every category before graduating. And that’s exactly what he did—during what turned out to be the toughest years of our lives.

In 2012, Charly passed away after a long struggle with his health and with saving Mecaplast, which had been severely affected by the 2008 financial crisis. He poured his heart and fortune into rescuing the company, successfully, with the support of his son Thierry.

Then, in October 2014, tragedy struck. Jules crashed in heavy rain at the Japanese Grand Prix. He collided with a 6.5-ton crane that was recovering another car on track. The deceleration was catastrophic—his earplugs recorded a 92G impact. He was put into a coma. After several surgeries, doctors stabilized him, but he never regained consciousness. I was in shock. I couldn’t believe it. We had been FaceTiming before the race—Norman and I were joking with Jules, unaware that it would be our last conversation. Waking up the next day felt like a nightmare. Reading the messages, watching the news, realizing this wasn’t a normal crash…it was devastating.

Anyone involved in motorsport knows crashes are part of the game. You can’t drive at 300 km/h, just centimeters from the wall, without sometimes getting hurt. Drivers’ skills minimize the risk, and regulations constantly improve safety. But motorsport remains dangerous. There’s no way to fully cope with it. I tried not to think about it—but that’s difficult when you have two younger brothers racing almost every weekend. So when a crash happens, the same thoughts always come: “Who is it? How bad is it? I hope we’ll see the driver moving soon.” TV broadcasts never show crash footage until they know the driver is safe. But there was no footage of Jules after hours. I managed to speak to his parents, they were on a plane to Japan. It was bad. I flew there a few days later to be with Jules and his family, hoping he’d wake up. We had so much hope in those early days—despite what the doctors said. In moments like those, you cling to anything positive. Jules was eventually brought back to a hospital in Nice, still in a coma. I visited him often. The terrible thing about coma is that it gives you hope—until time gradually erodes it. I admired his family. They gave everything, spending months by his side, staying strong. Jules passed away on July 17, 2015. I’ve never seen such emotion at a funeral. The entire Formula One world was grieving. Jules was the first F1 driver to die from a race crash since Ayrton Senna in 1994. My family was deeply affected. Jules was like a brother to me—and a role model and mentor for Charles since childhood. After the funeral, I asked Charles, “What are you going to do about racing?” He answered, “I’ll keep racing. I’ll only be happy when I race.” I was surprised by his confidence—even though we were still crying for Jules. I often thought afterward, “What if Jules hadn’t been in Japan that year? What if he hadn’t taken that call to join F1?” But I also remembered how devastated he was when he thought he wouldn’t make it. F1 was his dream. Nothing could have made him happier. Every F1 driver accepts the risks. And we—the families—just hope the odds stay in our favor.

In 2016, Charles secured his first single-seater title by winning the GP3 Series. Meanwhile, Hervé’s health was declining, and another blow came when our mother, Pascale, was diagnosed with breast cancer. She is incredibly strong—hardworking, never complaining, loved and admired by everyone. Looking back, I realize just how brave she was. She would undergo chemotherapy in the morning and take care of Hervé in the afternoon. She minimized her own pain to protect us, cared for her husband, and ultimately overcame the disease. Hervé was hospitalized for several months before passing away in June 2017. That year, Charles was dominating the GP2 championship with seven victories and eight pole positions. The week we lost Hervé, Charles delayed his flight to the next race in Baku. He arrived just in time for the practice sessions—on a track he had never seen before. He took pole position, won the feature race, and crossed the line first in the sprint race, finishing second only due to a 10-second penalty behind Norman. That day, he proved to everyone that he was ready for Formula 1. It was Hervé’s dream. Charles was officially announced to join Sauber in F1 for the 2018 season just a few months after his father passed away.

After Hervé’s death, our uncle Thierry stepped in to support the family. He knew Arthur had always dreamed of racing but never had the chance. He asked how he could help and whether he could support Arthur for a karting season. At the time, Arthur was already 17. I told Thierry that it was too late to start karting, but suggested we consider the French F4 Championship instead. Arthur wouldn’t be the youngest, but a strong result could still open doors. The French F4 Championship is the most accessible of the F4 series because it doesn’t involve teams—cars are run by the championship itself, significantly reducing costs. I told Thierry that most of the other drivers would have 8 to 10 years of karting experience. Arthur’s chances of success were slim. Arthur had done a bit of karting before the age of 7, but had to stop early. His only “training” came from a racing simulator on the PlayStation—where he consistently beat everyone, including Charles. Thierry agreed to support him, launching Arthur’s racing career. Arthur didn’t disappoint. On his very first race weekend in Nogaro, he won, defending the lead like a lion. After all those years of waiting, he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. He fought at the front all season and finished 5th in the championship. His performances didn’t go unnoticed. Venturi invited him to participate in the rookie test for Formula E, and he joined the Alfa Romeo junior program.

Meanwhile Charles, once again, was adapting quickly—this time to Formula 1. I believe the biggest challenge for him wasn’t the car itself, but everything outside the cockpit: the interviews, the PR events, the constant attention. Suddenly, everyone was talking about him—on social media, in the press, in the streets of Monaco. He was the rising star and ended the season as F1’s Rookie of the Year. Things accelerated during the summer of 2018, when it became clear that a seat at Ferrari might open. Charles’s performances had put him in a prime position to secure it. Since late 2016, Charles had been part of the Ferrari Driver Academy—the Scuderia’s junior program. All top F1 teams run such programs to scout and develop young talent. Drivers can join as early as karting—like Mercedes’ Kimi Antonelli—or more commonly between F4 and F2. These programs provide training (testing, simulation work, media classes, etc.) and support (technical, physical, and financial) in exchange for long-term contracts tied to performance. However, these academies rarely cover the full cost of F3 or F2, which can now exceed €2 million per season. Drivers and their management still have to raise a significant portion of the budget. That said, being backed by a top F1 team opens doors when pitching to sponsors—it offers a clear path to the top and credibility beyond just being “another dad who thinks his son is the next Ayrton Senna.”

Charles’s move to Ferrari after just one year in F1 was monumental. At 21, he became one of the youngest drivers ever and first Monegasque to join Scuderia. The team, known for favoring experienced or champion drivers, had never before promoted someone so early from its academy. Jules had been the very first Ferrari Driver Academy recruit—we believe that, had the crash not happened, he too would have joined the team. In many ways, Charles was carrying his legacy forward. Once again, Charles needed very little time to adapt. He took pole position in just his second race and would have won had it not been for an engine failure. Still, he finished the season fourth overall, outperforming his four-time world champion teammate—and winning the hearts of the tifosi.

Photo: Jules Bianchi (1989-2015)

Charles had always been grateful to our parents for the support they gave him at the start of his career. He also understood that Arthur hadn’t had the same opportunities. So, as he entered his second season in Formula 1, he didn’t hesitate to support Arthur financially and personally. He secured Arthur a seat in a top team in the ADAC F4 Championship, allowing him to continue after his promising debut year. At that time, I decided to leave the wealth management company where I had worked for seven years to focus fully on my brothers’ careers. After evaluating various options for Arthur, Charles and I came to the conclusion that we would be better off managing Arthur’s career ourselves. Charles had access to the best resources and technical insight to help guide Arthur’s development. My years of experience in Monaco and in finance gave me a strong position to secure sponsors and negotiate with teams. It became a real team effort. Arthur moved up from F4 to F2, earning one championship title and one vice-champion title along the way. Today, at 24 years old, he is a development driver for Scuderia Ferrari and an endurance driver for the Italian marque—a major achievement for someone who began his career at an age when few drivers are already in F1. None of this would have been possible without the support of sponsors—many of whom are Monegasque entrepreneurs. Monaco has been a blessing, especially for me, as I was responsible for raising the budget each year. It’s an exercise that can be quite stressful. In both F3 and F2, there’s a limited number of seats—typically between 30 and 20 respectively per season—and that number shrinks further if you’re targeting a competitive team. The process usually starts in early summer of the previous year, aiming to finalize contracts by September, as the first tests take place in the last quarter of the year. Top teams in these feeder series have to strike a delicate balance: they need enough funding to keep operations running and attract top engineers, but they also want to sign the most talented drivers—who often aren’t willing to pay inflated fees to compete. So, the summer months become an intense period of negotiation. Add to that the need to raise sponsorship in parallel, and you can imagine how relaxing those summers were for me. Fortunately, we were based in Monaco. Our story—and Arthur’s performances—resonated with a few generous entrepreneurs from the Principality who supported us through several seasons.

In 2020, while Arthur was in F3 and Charles was in his second year with Ferrari, I decided to return to wealth management. I carefully considered various opportunities and eventually met Hugues Decobert, founding partner of Square Capital. He and his partner, Jacques Benhamou, had worked at Goldman Sachs in the early 200 Livingstone, and I found in them and their team a strong sense of integrity and professionalism that matched the way I wanted to grow in the industry. Since October 2020, we have been partners. Today, Square Capital has offices in Monaco, Paris, London, and New York. Working with top entrepreneurs and elite athletes in wealth management, I found striking similarities. Their dedication, drive for excellence, and ability to perform under pressure are outstanding. The key difference lies in timing and momentum: athletes often reach the top level before they are even adults, which means families remain deeply involved in the early years. We often see cases where family members act as managers—or at least assist their rising stars—for better or worse. In Charles’s case, we quickly discovered that he needed broad support to avoid being distracted from his performance on track. With Nicolas handling team contracts and sponsors, we initially thought that was enough. But soon we realized there was so much more: logistics, tax filings, company administration, social media, physios, dietitians, and countless weekly solicitations. Add to that the development of business ventures, and it became clear—Charles needed a family office.

Monaco probably has the highest concentration of top-level athletes per square meter in the world. Whether walking along Larvotto Beach or having lunch at Beefbar, you’re likely to run into champions from motorsport, tennis, cycling, and more. We quickly realized that Charles’s needs were not unique—many other athletes faced similar challenges. That’s how “All Time” was born end of 2022—a Monegasque company dedicated to providing 360-degree support for athletes living in Monaco. The concept resonated with the Torriani family, long-time supporters of Arthur’s career and now key partners in All Time. Today, All Time supports over 20 elite athletes based in Monaco and abroad, and we’re expanding internationally.

Looking back, I realize I’ve come close to fulfilling that dream I had as a teenager—working in both Formula 1 and finance. And yet, I still feel there’s so much more to do. My brothers and I continue to support one another in the pursuit of our dreams. Starting by building a family with Charlotte, soon to be my wife, and I feel no better place than Monaco to do so.

By Lorenzo Tolotta-Leclerc

Contributor