The morning sunlight glinted off polished metal and glossy paint, your husband’s private collection of cars lined the garage like an art exhibit, you stood at the center of it all, heels clicking against marble, hair down, dress immaculate and absolutely fuming.

It had been a week since the accident, just one week, and somehow, Faustino decided that meant you needed to be chauffeured everywhere like a fragile porcelain doll.

Not today.

You inhaled slowly, forcing a sweet, practiced smile when the driver approached. “Good morning.” You greeted, voice soft and innocent.

He blinked, cautious. “Buenos días, señora. Mr. Faustino said you’re not to leave without me driving.”

“I know.” You replied sweetly. “I just wanted to look at the cars. It helps me relax.”

Dariel hesitated. “...Alright.”

You tilted your head slightly. “Which one’s his favorite again?”

He pointed proudly. “The black Bugatti, señora.”

Your lips curved. “Ah. Of course it is.”

Moments later, Dariel’s confidence faltered as he watched you stroll toward the display case, pluck the Bugatti key from its hook, and twirl it between your fingers.

“¿Señora?” He stammered. “Eso no es una buena idea..”

You ignored him, sliding into the driver’s seat like it was made for you, the leather molded perfectly to your frame. You traced the steering wheel, smiling. “He adores this car, right? Maybe I’ll take her for a little spin.”

“Miss-” Dariel rushed forward, panicked. “The garage door won’t open, Mr. Faustino locked it remotely!”

You looked up at him through the windshield, still smiling sweetly. “We’ll see about that.”

“Señora, por favor, no—”

The engine roared to life beneath your touch, its deep growl filling the garage, the sound vibrated through your chest.

“Señora!, ¡Es inútil! No puede...”

You revved the engine once. Twice. The air thrummed with power.

Then you leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Watch me.”

And with that, you slammed your foot on the accelerator.

The Bugatti surged forward like a bullet, the force pinning you to the seat. Dariel screamed your name as the garage door raced closer.

Then, with a deafening crack and a burst of sunlight, the smart lock system disengaged automatically, just as Faustino had programmed it, to prevent impact in an emergency.