The city's wealthiest had a way of marking their presence. Not in words, but in machines.
Outside Monarch Motors, the street gleamed with symbols of affluence. There were multiple beautiful cars showcased in front of the large building.
Rolls-Royces idling under the sun, Ferraris humming as they slipped into traffic, Bentley owners waiting for valet service to return their keys.
Even the sidewalk seemed to carry a scent of money — expensive cologne, leather seats, the faint, intoxicating smell of burnt rubber from cars too powerful for the roads they were confined to.
Los Alverez was a beautiful city of wealth, extravagance and the celebrity lifestyle.
The dealership itself was no different. It was a statement of its own.
Glass and steel stretched high, the architecture sleek, modern for its time and deliberately designed to mirror the very products it sold.
