As they reached the end of the street, Ariana Winslow suddenly stopped mid-step.
Her eyes lit up.
Parked not far from the curb was a sleek, aggressively sculpted supercar—low to the ground, its curves sharp yet fluid, like a predator poised to strike. Even among the already flashy surroundings of the antique district, the vehicle stood out with undeniable presence.
It was a Pagani Huayra.
For a brief moment, the noise of the street seemed to fade.
Ariana’s gaze shifted from the car… to Dylan Brooks.
“This is yours?” she asked, her tone carrying a trace of surprise—and curiosity.
She studied him carefully, her eyes moving from his understated clothing to his calm, almost indifferent expression.
“You drive something like this… yet dress so simply.”
There was no mockery in her voice—
