Phoebe remained rooted in front of her vehicle, her eyes slowly drifting toward the pitch-black car parked static beside hers. The machine looked incredibly powerful, imposing, and exuded an aura of absolute dominance—a flawless extension of the enigmatic older man standing next to her.
The man slowly shifted his gaze back from the city skyline, locking his dark eyes onto her conflicted face.
"I did not climb up to this rooftop to showcase my vehicles to you, little lady. Furthermore, you were never my intended destination tonight," he stated, his deep baritone measured and dangerously calm. "So, whether you approve of my car or not is entirely irrelevant. The board is yours to play. You can drive your own vehicle to my estate, or we can ride together in mine. But if you are still stubbornly insisting that you want absolutely no one tracking your coordinates tonight... then your only logical move is to get in with me."
