Just once.
Quickly.
She wiped her eyes and said, “Don’t you dare speed.”
“I won’t.”
“Don’t let your friends act stupid in it.”
“I won’t.”
“And if police stop you, call me before you say too much.”
Jayden smiled.
“Mom.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
He drove the Ferrari home like it was made of glass.
The next day, he decided to take it to Riverside Mall to buy his grandmother a new winter coat.
That was all.
A coat.
Maybe lunch.
Maybe one photo for his channel, if the light was good.
He parked far from other cars, because he was still terrified someone would ding the door.
He bought the coat, grabbed a milkshake, walked back outside, and saw a middle-aged white man standing near the Ferrari with his phone out.
The man was pacing around it, staring through the windows.
Jayden slowed.
“Can I help you?”
The man looked at him.
Then looked at the Ferrari.
Then back at him.
“This your car?”
Jayden kept his voice neutral.
“Yes, sir.”
The man laughed once.
Not a friendly laugh.
“Sure it is.”
Jayden unlocked the car.
The lights flashed.
The man’s face changed.
“You got keys?”
Jayden opened the door.
“Have a good day.”
He got in, set the shopping bag on the passenger seat, placed the milkshake in the cup holder, and started the engine.
The man stepped back, still filming.
Jayden should have driven away immediately.
Instead, he adjusted the mirrors, checked the dealer tag, and waited for an elderly couple to cross behind him.
That gave the man enough time to call 911.
“I’m at Riverside Mall,” he told the dispatcher. “There’s a young Black male driving a red Ferrari. Looks stolen. He’s trying to leave.”
By the time Jayden reached the parking lot exit, the first cruiser was already turning in.
At the station, they took his phone.
That was the first thing that frightened him.
Not the handcuffs.
Not the cruiser.
The phone.
His mother’s number was in there.
His lawyer’s number.
His documents stored in cloud folders.
His entire business.
“Can I call my mom?” he asked.
Officer Harlan smirked.
“You can call whoever after we figure out whose car you stole.”
“I already told you. It’s mine.”
“Sure.”
They placed him in a holding room with gray walls, a metal table, and one camera in the corner.
Another officer, Marcy Vale, sat across from him with a file.
She looked younger than Harlan and less amused.
“Jayden Cole,” she read. “Seventeen years old.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You have any prior arrests?”
“No.”
“Suspensions? Trouble at school?”
“No.”
“You expect me to believe a seventeen-year-old bought a Ferrari?”
Jayden took a breath.
“I have a company. I make automotive content. I have sponsorship income and contracts. The car is registered under my LLC.”
Officer Vale stared at him.
“Your LLC.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What’s it called?”
“ColeWorks Garage.”
Her eyes flickered.
Just slightly.
She had heard the name.
Jayden saw it.
“You can look it up,” he said.
Before she could answer, Harlan stepped in.
“Don’t feed him. Kids lie better when you give them details.”
Jayden looked at him.
“I’m not lying.”
Harlan leaned on the table.
“Then where’d the money come from? Drugs? Fraud? Somebody else’s account?”
Jayden’s face tightened.
“Videos. Sponsorships. Paid partnerships. I pay taxes.”
Harlan laughed.
“He pays taxes.”
Officer Vale did not laugh this time.
Jayden noticed that too.
Harlan slid a paper across the table.
“Write down who gave you the car.”
“No one gave it to me.”
“Write down who you stole it from.”
“I didn’t steal it.”
Harlan’s voice hardened.
“Son, the faster you stop playing rich, the easier this gets.”
Jayden leaned back.
“I want my mom. And I want my lawyer.”
The room went quiet.
Harlan’s eyes narrowed.
“Lawyer?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You been watching too much TV?”
“No. My attorney’s name is Carla Benton. Her number is in my phone.”
Officer Vale stood.
“I’m going to verify the vehicle information.”
Harlan shot her a look.
“We already have enough.”
“No,” she said. “We have a caller saying it looked stolen. That’s not enough.”
She left before he could answer.
Jayden sat alone with Harlan.
For the first time, Harlan looked less entertained.
That made him meaner.
“You think having a lawyer makes you special?”
Jayden swallowed.
“No.”
“You think internet money makes you a man?”
“No.”
“Then let me tell you what you are. You are a kid in a car that doesn’t match you. That means people are going to ask questions.”
Jayden looked straight at him.
“No. That means people like you are going to invent answers.”
Harlan slammed his palm on the table.
“Watch your mouth.”
Jayden’s heart pounded.
But his voice stayed quiet.
“My mother told me this would happen.”
Harlan smiled coldly.
“Smart woman.”
Outside the room, Officer Vale sat at a desk and typed ColeWorks Garage into the search bar.
The first result made her sit back.
Jayden Cole.
Millions of subscribers.
Videos with millions of views.
Teen mechanic rebuilds engines behind laundromat.
Teen entrepreneur buys dream Ferrari after building automotive brand.
The article had been posted the night before by an automotive news site.
There was a photo of Jayden standing beside the red Ferrari at the dealership, holding the keys with his mother beside him.
Officer Vale clicked another link.
A video.
Jayden’s face filled the screen.
“Today is the craziest day of my life,” he said, standing in a dealership delivery bay. “I’m seventeen, and this still feels impossible, but I bought my dream car with money I earned from this channel and ColeWorks Garage. And before anyone says anything, yes, my mom checked the insurance twice.”
Officer Vale closed her eyes briefly.
Then she searched the VIN.