The Maybach Landaulet purrs through the Manhattan streets like a silent predator, its presence commanding respect from every passing vehicle. I lean back against the plush leather seat, watching the city lights blur past through the open roof. The night air carries a chill that matches my mood.
"Noah, turn left at the next intersection," Mia Kennedy says from the front passenger seat. Her voice is carefully measured, diplomatic. She's always been smarter than Chloe. More calculating.
I glance at my ex-wife in the rearview mirror. Chloe sits frozen in the backseat beside me, her eyes wide as she takes in every detail of the car's opulent interior. The champagne service. The climate-controlled seats. The sound system that probably costs more than most people's cars.
Her fingers trace the crystal champagne glass with obvious longing.
"This is incredible," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. "Noah, I never knew you had..."
