CHAPTER 203: CHAPTER 202: REGALIA RAVELLE

"Boss, take our car for now," Victor said, stepping closer. "We’ll call the company, and they’ll handle everything—from insurance and repairs to cleaning up the mess. They’ll make sure it’s picked up, processed, and delivered back to you in perfect condition, like nothing ever happened."

Rex nodded, it’s like he had any other choice. On the other hand the guard from before returned and handed something to Vivienne.

Vivienne took a step forward and came closer to Rex, her heels clicking softly against the concrete.

"Looks like your car’s seen better days," she said with a faint smile, her voice casual but carrying a quiet power. "Take this. Consider it a small compensation for your car. It’s a Regalia Ravelle: Majestas One—brand new. It arrived just a few days ago, and no one’s even sat in it yet. Well... except me."

In her outstretched hand was a sleek, glossy key—jet black, with a chrome double R insignia embedded at its center. The key’s metallic surface gleamed in the sun, and even at a glance, it was clear: this wasn’t your average luxury car fob. The key looked more like a piece of art than a tool—engraved with a tiny crowned lion, the symbol of the Regalis brand.It was an object of craftsmanship, sculpted and meticulously engineered. A perfect blend of elegance and opulence.

She paused, then added reassuringly, "And don’t worry about the paperwork. I’ll handle all of it personally—registration, insurance, transfer. It’s yours now."

She offered the key with a slight smile.

Rex blinked and instinctively raised a hand, waving slightly. "That’s really not necessary," he said with a hesitant chuckle. "I can just get mine repaired. It’s not even that badly damaged."

Vivienne smiled patiently, her tone firm but kind. "Rex, you literally risked your life for my daughter. That isn’t something I can repay with just words or a pat on the back. Please, take it—not as compensation, but as a gesture of gratitude."

He opened his mouth to protest again but faltered when he met her eyes. There was a depth there—a quiet storm of sincerity and steel resolve. She wasn’t trying to impress him. She wasn’t showing off. She was simply doing what she believed was right.

She gently pressed the key into his palm, her fingers brushing his in a delicate, intentional motion. For a heartbeat, he was too caught off guard to say anything, feeling the quiet strength and finality behind the gesture.

A soft scent floated up—something subtle and luxurious, like white musk layered with delicate florals, drifted from her. Her hand, cold and impossibly soft, brushed against his hand. The contact lasted only a second,but both of them paused. The faintest hue of pink tinged Vivienne’s cheeks, and she quickly stepped back, tucking a stray hair behind her ear and clearing her throat.

"Your phone’s still ringing," she said, her voice casual but clearly meant to shift the attention.

Rex gave a slight nod, still somewhat stunned, his fingers curling slightly around the cold key in his palm. The lingering warmth of her touch mixed with the elegant weight of the key left him a bit flustered. He cleared his throat quietly, trying to recover his composure. He clicked the button on the key, and a few meters away, a melodic chime rang out. Headlights pulsed to life.

The car that responded made him stop in his tracks, not just because it was beautiful—but because it radiated something rare: presence. A silent declaration of status, power, and taste.

It wasn’t just luxurious—it was majestic. A long, sleek silhouette bathed in glossy obsidian-black paint. The body seemed to drink in the light, its shape fluid and commanding, like liquid shadow. Every curve had been perfected to near impossibility, its windows tinted to a rich charcoal hue. Whisper-thin chrome linings danced along its body, subtle yet striking.

And there, sitting proudly at the front, was the emblem—a crowned lion mid-roar, sculpted in radiant gold with breathtaking detail. The golden figure caught the sunlight with a fierce gleam, exuding a sense of regal dominance. Every line of the lion’s muscular form was a statement of pride and legacy, its roaring face frozen in eternal defiance. This wasn’t just a hood ornament—it was a declaration, a masterstroke of artistry and power that crowned the Regalia Ravelle like a monarch’s seal. It radiated gravitas, like the silent roar of old money and unshakable influence gliding through the world unnoticed but never unseen.

Vivienne watched Rex’s reaction with quiet satisfaction, the corner of her lips twitching into a knowing smile. Of course, she understood his stunned silence—there was no way any man with a love for fine things could remain indifferent to a Regalis Ravelle.

There was a reason it was called the "King of Cars." The Regalis brand carried centuries of heritage and prestige. This wasn’t a car you bought—it was one you earned. The waiting list alone spanned years, and even the wealthiest elites weren’t guaranteed a purchase. The company reserved the right to refuse any order, regardless of status or bank balance. Even royal families had been turned away in the past. Every vehicle was handmade to the most precise specifications, often with custom features only disclosed between manufacturer and buyer.

Vivienne had ordered this specific model over a year ago as a birthday present for Arabella’s grandfather. Between negotiations, design preferences, and rigorous vetting, it had only just been delivered.

Watching Rex hold the keys, she muttered quietly to herself, "It seems it wasn’t fated to be his after all."

Beside her, Arabella nudged her mother and whispered, "Mom, didn’t you buy that car for Grandpa’s birthday?"

Vivienne nodded gently. "Yes, baby, I did. But it looks like this car was meant for your brother instead, and it’s not like your grandpa lacks this car."

Arabella considered that, picturing her grandfather’s garage filled with rows upon rows of pristine luxury cars. After a moment of thought, she nodded sagely, her little voice chiming, "Yeah, Grandpa already has a lot of cool cars. He won’t miss one. When the time comes, I’ll just give him lots of hugs. I bet he’ll be more happy with that."

Vivienne smiled fondly at her daughter’s innocent reasoning. "Yeah, yeah, you are his most precious in this world," she said, ruffling Arabella’s hair gently. "Let’s go. Your grandpa must be worried sick. Otherwise, who knows, he might fly down here himself."

With that, they gave one last look back toward Rex, waved their goodbyes. Arabella waved enthusiastically, practically bouncing in place. "Bye, Brother! Don’t forget to visit!" she called out.

Rex chuckled and waved back.

With that, Vivienne gently took Arabella’s hand, and under the tight formation of black-suited guards, they turned and made their way back to their waiting car, its doors opened respectfully by the escort as the family disappeared inside with practiced grace.

"That’s a Regalia Ravelle," Victor whispered, his voice lowered in near reverence.

Rex also nodded, he might not know everything about luxury cars, but even he had heard of the Ravelle. A car so rare and exclusive that entire dynasties boasted about owning one, not just for its performance but for what it meant. The kind of machine whispered about in luxury circles, spoken of with awe, envy, and longing.

Victor continued, voice soft like he was talking about a sacred artifact. "That’s not just a car... that’s the King of Cars. I didn’t think that I would get an opportunity to sit in a Regalia too."

(End of Chapter)