Rex slipped the Ferrari's key into the valet's hand, his movements smooth, casual, like he'd done this a thousand times. The valet almost bowed from the waist, treating the keys like they were made of solid gold.
The valet practically jogged to Rex's door, posture snapping straighter than a cadet under inspection. When Rex handed over the Ferrari SP3 Daytona's key, the man accepted it with two hands, like receiving a sacred artifact. The car itself drew glances, of course, this was the Biltmore Los Angeles, where expensive cars were as common as bottled water, but a Daytona SR3? That was an S-tier drop, the kind of limited-edition beast that made even seasoned collectors twitch with envy.
And the driver? Well, the driver strolled toward the Sterling family, who had already spotted him. Their faces carried a range of expressions… curiosity, caution, subtle calculation… but above all, gratitude.
And then… chaos, well a mini chaos.
