More Cool Stuff
“A Lamborghini?” I whispered.
My mother smiled warmly. “Happy anniversary, Samantha.”
Yes—my parents are billionaires. They built a massive logistics empire, but I’ve spent my entire life trying to prove that I’m more than just a last name. I work full-time, manage my own finances, and keep things separate because I refuse to live like a spoiled headline.
Still, the bright yellow Huracán parked outside the restaurant shattered that illusion instantly. My father snapped a quick photo of me beside it before slipping the paperwork into my purse.
“It’s titled to you,” he said. “The dealership is keeping it overnight to apply protective film. You can pick it up tomorrow.”
Derek barely said a word during dinner.
On the drive home he muttered, “Must be nice. Getting toys from Mom and Dad.”
“It’s a gift,” I replied calmly. “And it’s mine.”
