USA First Son? I AM RICHER!

The Phantom glided out of the garage like royalty, its engine now a low, velvety purr as Parker eased it toward the gates of his estate. The retreating daylight stretched long shadows across the marble, warm golds and deep purples dancing on the sleek black paint. It was like the sun itself was bowing out, giving way to something... bigger.

The massive iron gates whispered open, and as he crossed that threshold, Parker felt it again—that undeniable flex. The sportscars in his collection? Sure, they were fun, loud, fast. But this? This wasn't speed. This was presence. The kind of car you didn't race in. You arrived. No fanfare needed. The world just... noticed.

Leaning back into the plush leather, he let his hand settle on the wheel, barely pressing the gas as the Phantom glided onto the open road.