Parker's new private garage wasn't just a place to park cars—it was a cathedral of wealth.
Arched ceilings soared overhead, lined with gold-trimd chandeliers that cast a soft, celestial glow across the polished marble floors. The architecture felt almost palatial, a fusion of modern luxury and old-world grandeur, as if soone had taken a billionaire's penthouse and blended it with a European palace.
It looked like sothing straight out of a billionaire's fever dream—vast, dimly lit, and humming with the quiet presence of untouchable wealth. The polished concrete floor glead under sleek, recessed lighting, reflecting the curated lineup of absurdly expensive vehicles like a luxury showroom that didn't need an audience.
The walls? Dark steel and glass. Not just a storage space, but a statent—minimalist, intimidating, and effortlessly futuristic. No unnecessary clutter, no signs of life beyond the machines that sat there like gods waiting to be unleashed.
At the front, his Rolls-Royce Phantom and Spectre reigned in absolute silence, their presence like royalty refusing to acknowledge the existence of lesser beings like twin kings, their polished fras reflecting the chandeliers above. They weren't just cars—they were moving fortresses of silent power, rolling monunts to the absurdity of being rich.
Across from them, his Lamborghini Revuelto, a Red Speedtail, and another black Lambo lounged with that aggressive, predatory aura—like hypercars waiting for an excuse to break every traffic law ever written—all practically screaming, "If you see in your rearview, just move." These were the kind of cars people risked speeding tickets just to get a better look at.
But then, set apart from the flashy lineup, Elena's Range Rover stood alone. It wasn't just parked—it was stationed. Like a warhorse standing watch, its dark silhouette exuding a different kind of power. One that didn't need speed to command respect.
All scread money and reckless decisions.
Along the far wall, a smooth, matte-black panel hinted at sothing more—sothing hidden. No visible handles, no keyholes. Just seamless tech waiting to respond to the right touch.
Above it all, the ceiling stretched high, fitted with automated skylights that allowed just enough moonlight to filter through, casting faint silver streaks across the cars. The air inside was still—untouched by dust, scented only by the faint mix of leather, gasoline, and the quiet hum of high-end machinery.
This wasn't just a garage.
It was a vault.
Parker didn't hesitate.
"Rover. Elena."
She already knew. Nodding once, she stepped forward, making her way to what looked like an ordinary smooth panel on the wall. But the mont she touched it—
Whrrr—
A sleek, futuristic blue glow pulsed across the surface. A high-tech scan flickered over her face, and then—
A holographic screen snapped into existence.
"Elena Vasquez - Battle Maid."
Tessa and Naomi fucking lost it.
Tessa straight-up cackled, doubling over. "That's gotta be the coldest job title I've ever heard."
"Ain't no way—" Naomi wheezed, gripping Tessa's arm like she just saw The Rock walk into a McDonald's.
Tessa clutched her chest like she was catching the Holy Spirit. "Nah, 'Battle Maid' is crazy. You got a whole ass video ga title for a job description?!"
Elena just gave them a side-eye of doom before pressing a button on the screen. A hidden compartnt slid out of the wall, revealing a set of key fobs lined up in a precise row, each one gleaming under the garage lights.
There were so many empty slots.
Demanding. Waiting.
As if taunting Parker to fill them.
And he would.
Elena grabbed the key fob for the Rover and walked off without another word, letting the wall seamlessly seal itself back into normalcy and the futuristic glow faded like nothing ever happened.
Tessa exhaled, still in disbelief. "That's so next-level Tony Stark shit."
Parker smirked, slipping his hands into his pockets. "The whole mansion's wired up like this. Sixth life acquisition."
Tessa raised an eyebrow. Sixth life?
The mansion's Omni-powered tech ran so deep it was almost hilarious. Every inch of the place pulsed with it—lights, doors, security, hell, even the damn espresso machine probably had so Omni-infused nonsense making it work smoother than physics should allow.
Tessa had a million questions, but she held back. No point in pressing Parker when the guy barely even rembered his own past, let alone how this tech ended up woven into his ho like magic. She knew he had fragnts, pieces of who he used to be, but nothing concrete.
So she just gave his hand a small squeeze and dropped it.
Parker smirked. Smart girl.
They slid into the Rover, with Ere doing her usual routine—ignoring every single person—like usual, Erebus imdiately claid Naomi's lap, settling in with an air of entitlent. It was official—Naomi was the designated Ere seat.
Elena didn't waste ti. Engine on. Headlights slicing through the dim glow of the garage.
And then—boom.
The Rover burst out of the garage like it was breaking free from so high-tech, billionaire vault. The mansion's massive, impossibly lit compound stretched endlessly, so vast even Elena—with her superhuman senses and perception—couldn't see the end of it. And she didn't need to. It was just lights, moonlit pathways, and sheer endless expanse.
Because the night welcod them.
Above, the moonlight bathed everything in a silver glow, cool and hypnotic, like the sky itself was rolling out a VIP carpet just for them. And Naomi? She fucking felt it.
Even inside in the passenger seat, felt it—the cool, intoxicating embrace of the moonlight. It thrumd in her veins like an old friend whispering secrets, filling her with that quiet, wild energy she'd always felt under the stars. Even inside the car, she could feel it.
The Rover hit the long mansion driveway, its wheels eating up the expensive, marble-laid road.
Tessa's eyes flickered toward the life-sized statues lined up along the way—art so realistic it almost felt like the figures were watching them pass.
The drive was pure extravagance.
The long, impossibly expensive driveway stretched ahead, lined with statues so insanely lifelike they almost seed to breathe. Tessa's eyes flicked to them, muttering sothing under her breath about "rich people and their weird ass hobbies."
The gates?
Didn't need a command. They opened on their own, silent and smooth, like they had so kind of telepathic agreent with the Rover.
And then—Elena stepped on it.
Hard.
And the Rover shot out.
Fast. Effortless.
Because let's be real—no one inside that car gave a single fuck about sothing as mundane as speed limits. So the SUV rocketed forward, cutting through the night like it had a personal vendetta against slow driving. No one inside even flinched—because, honestly?
They were all so far beyond shit like "accidents" and "road safety" it was almost funny.
A few seconds.
The streets blurred past in a flash of neon and moonlight, and within seconds, they had left behind the exclusive, god-tier wealth of the Origin Families' neighborhood. Elena didn't even let up on the gas until they hit the bustling heart of the city—the skyline glowing like a futuristic painting before them.
And ahead?
Lights. Life. Chaos.
Welcoming them back.
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