Mistaking A Villain For Gentleman

The interior of the Range Rover SV Autobiography hit different. This wasn't some low-slung speed demon built to scream on the highway. Nah—this was power on cruise control. The kind of luxury that didn't have to show off. It just was.

Parker sank back into the ridiculously plush leather seats, half tempted to just sink into the quilted stitching. The whole cabin felt... expensive. Not just money expensive—like old money expensive. The seats were stitched with this two-tone Ebony and Ivory leather, looking more like something out of a designer penthouse than a car.

And the wood trim? Dark, glossy, and real. None of that fake plastic crap.

Even the air felt richer. Some fancy ionization system keeping it crisp like a damn mountaintop breeze. And that sound system? A full-blown Meridian Signature, probably more powerful than most home theaters, classical music playing soft and low like the car was trying to whisper, Yeah, you made it.