Chapter 69 Peas in a Pod
The drive to the event was smooth and quiet. They had nothing to say, Ethan kept his eyes on his tablet, scrolling through whatever held his attention, while Lena leaned on the window, watching the world slip by.
Soon, the car left the busy streets and rolled into a stylish neighborhood where every turn seemed more interesting than the last, lined with glowing shopfronts, modern buildings, and cozy-looking cafés.
After a few turns, the road opened up to a huge arena that looked part stadium, part luxury hall. Its silver walls glimmered under the lights, with tall arches and clean lines that gave it a bold, striking look.
At the entrance, a group of smartly dressed men stepped forward and guided the car down a private lane. It wound past the main crowd and into a tucked-away section that looked like it wasn't meant for just anyone.
The car came to a stop. Ethan stepped out first, adjusting his jacket like this was all familiar to him. Lena followed, her eyes wide at the size and beauty of the place, feeling smaller with every detail she noticed.
Ethan's head was held higher than ever, as if he was fully aware of his importance. That same cold, sly expression rested on his face, unshaken by the scene around him.
The new faces, the sheer number of people, and the way so many seemed ready to serve them made Lena feel small. A sudden urge to reach out and take his hand crept in, but she stopped herself. Somehow, her mind had begun to see Ethan as a source of safety, a thought that would have startled her not long ago. But after the way he had saved her, the way he had held her in his arms, she couldn't ignore the memory. The calm she had felt then had almost erased the fear of that night, leaving only the strange, steady comfort of being close to him.
Ethan glanced back at her, as if he could sense she might be shrinking under the weight of this new world. There was a flicker of concern in his eyes, but it was laced with something else, a quiet pride, almost a brag. He didn't take her hand, yet his steps slowed just enough for her to keep close, so close that the faintest move forward would have her bump into him. From there, she could see the steady line of his shoulders, the unshakable way he carried himself, as if his back was ready to catch her if she fell.
The security team led them through the private entrance and into the main, stadium-like arena. It was massive, rows upon rows of seats curving around a brightly lit stage that seemed to command the whole space. They guided Ethan and Lena to a spot tucked neatly in a corner, directly facing the show. It had to be the best view in the entire arena, and it was reserved for him.
The seats themselves were ordinary enough, but each had a slim foam cushion laid out for extra comfort. As Lena lowered herself onto hers, she let her eyes wander, drinking in the scale and beauty of the place.
Ethan kept his eyes on her the entire time, though with enough discretion that she wouldn't notice. Every so often, he stole a glance, almost as if he was enjoying the way her face shifted with each new thing she saw. Maybe bringing her along wasn't just about company, maybe it was his own quiet boast, a way of showing her how effortlessly this world opened for him. She had watched previous seasons by sneaking in, always careful not to be caught. But tonight, at his side, she was escorted in like a queen.
As they sat, Lena eased back into her seat, letting herself sink into the comfort. Every now and then, she stole a glance at him, still trying to process the fact that she had actually married a billionaire. For reasons she still couldn't fully understand, her life had changed in the blink of an eye. Maybe, she thought, she should lean back and enjoy the marriage... for as long as it lasted.
Two stylishly dressed men, unmistakably the organizers of the Autolux Expo, began making their way across the room, their pace quickening the moment their eyes landed on Ethan. She recognized one of them from the previous season.
When they reached him, both extended their hands with warm, almost deferential smiles, their grip firm but lingering , the kind of handshake that tried to convey both friendship and opportunity. They thanked him effusively for attending, their voices dipped in that careful blend of flattery and business anticipation. They knew that Ethan Sinclair's mere presence could push a few luxury sales into the realm of outrageous profit, and it showed in the brightness of their eyes and the precision of their courtesy.
"It's an honor to have you here, Mr. Sinclair," one of them said, before his gaze shifted to Lena.
"Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Sinclair."
Caught slightly off guard, Lena gave a gentle smile and a small, polite nod. The noise and glamour around her seemed to close in for a moment, she wasn't entirely sure what the right words would be, or if anything she said could sound as poised as Ethan's effortless replies.
After a few more pleasantries, the organizers excused themselves, retreating with the same smooth confidence they had arrived with. As they melted back into the crowd, the lights dimmed and a low, steady bass thrummed through the hall. The show had begun.
A single spotlight cut through the darkness, illuminating the first car of the evening, a vintage 1967 Mustang Fastback, its once-muted paint now transformed into a deep metallic crimson that seemed to ripple under the light. The hood lifted with mechanical precision, revealing a roaring 5.0-liter Coyote V8 engine, polished to a mirror sheen. A ripple of appreciation moved through the audience.
Next came a sleek midnight-blue Porsche 911, but not as anyone remembered it. Its original flat-six had been swapped for an electric dual-motor setup capable of silent, instantaneous acceleration. The organizers made sure to demonstrate, the car shooting forward on the turntable platform with an almost predatory grace, before stopping on a dime to a burst of applause.
"That's a 992 Turbo body with a full EV conversion," Lena murmured, almost to herself.
Ethan's eyes shifted to her, mildly intrigued. "You know that?"
She gave a small shrug, her gaze still on the car. "It's the rear stance. A Turbo's always had that slightly wider body. And the way they've mounted the battery. you can tell they've kept the weight low. Helps with cornering."
He studied her for a moment, his gaze narrowing slightly. "Most people would've just called it a pretty blue Porsche."
For a moment, he just stared at her. He couldn't quite believe it, cars were his territory, his niche. And not just cars, but the rare, obsessive appreciation for engineering quirks most people overlooked. What were the odds she'd share the same, very specific fascination?.