Ferrari 250 GTO "Phantom"—Rumor said Ferrari built 36 GTOs. That was a lie. There was a 37th. Deep gunmetal gray, blacked-out badging, and a body shape that defied time itself. Unlike the pristine museum-kept GTOs, this one looked like it had seen things. Its history? Scrubbed. No records. No auctions. Just existence.
Parker let his eyes drift over the Ferrari 250 GTO "Phantom", taking in the deep gunmetal gray, the subtle menace of its blacked-out badging, the way it just… sat there, looking like it had seen shit and refused to talk about it.
It wasn't pristine like the ones in rich collectors' air-conditioned museum garages. No—this one had that energy, like it had been dragged through time itself.
"They really just… kept this?" Parker asked, still processing.
Tessa smirked, stepping beside him, arms crossed like she'd just been waiting for that question.
"Nah, we saved it."
Atalanta frowned. "From what? A regular life?"
Tessa sighed, shaking her head. "From dumbasses."
