Honk, honk.
A fiery red sports car roared through the airport's driveway, pulling up in front of the two figures who commanded attention without even trying.
Onlookers exchanged hushed whispers.
Who are these people?
It wasn't just their looks or presence—it was everything about them. The car alone was enough to confirm their status.
The latest model from Vermillion Bird, a brand owned by the White Phoenix Empire. A car so exclusive that even billionaires had to wait months for delivery.
Ethan begrudgingly admitted—the car was a masterpiece. As a man, how could he not appreciate it?
But what he didn't appreciate was the man who stepped out of it.
Tall. Well-built. Handsome.
Dressed in a sleek black shirt that hugged his lean frame and crisp white pants, the newcomer exuded confidence.
And then he smiled—a dazzling, practiced kind of smile, the type that infuriated Ethan.
