Chapter 2 - The Ghost of Detroit
Marcus retreated to the cramped supply closet at the back of the boutique. He sat on an overturned bucket, staring at his grease-stained hands. Chad thought he had a degree. Marcus had something better: a legacy.
Thirty years ago, Marcus Holt wasn't a detailer. He was the lead aerodynamic engineer for Cross Automotive—Damian's father's company. Marcus had designed the revolutionary engine cooling system that put the company on the map. But when it came time to file the patents, the elder Cross had stolen Marcus's blueprints, fired him, and blacklisted him from the industry.
Marcus had spent three decades in the shadows, watching the Cross family build an empire on his stolen genius. He took the detailing job at the boutique just to be close to the machines he loved, swallowing his pride to pay for his late wife’s medical bills.
His phone buzzed. It was a text from the boutique manager. Get out to the showroom. Now.
Marcus walked back out. The midnight-blue Bugatti was coughing out thick, acrid gray smoke from its titanium exhaust. Chad was frantically typing on his laptop, sweat pouring down his face. The engine sounded like a blender full of rocks.
"What did you do?!" Damian was screaming, his face purple with rage. "This is a five-million-dollar car!"
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"I don't know!" Chad stammered. "I bypassed the limiter, and the thermal regulators just… vanished!"
Marcus leaned against a structural pillar, crossing his arms over his faded uniform. "I told you," he said, his voice cutting through the panic. "The manifold is choking. You're five minutes away from melting a million-dollar engine block."
