Chapter 366: Chapter 365: Sterlings

One more turn of the dial landed him on a station spinning out old classics. The kind that poured fire through speakers even decades later.

"This next one’s for anyone driving through LA at sunset, feeling like the world’s both too big and too small. Here’s ’Stairway to Heaven.’"

The raw guitar riffs of a rock legend filled the car, wrapping around him like fire and smoke. He smiled, finally satisfied, and let the music ride with him.

Sunset blazing in the background, skyscrapers gleaming with amber light, Rex merged onto the main boulevard, the boulevard stretched ahead, congested with the usual LA peak-hour madness, but Rex wove through it like water slipping between stones.

Each shift of the gear was smooth, unhurried, confident. Like a man dancing with a machine that answered only to him. Horns blared, phones lifted to capture a flash of the red Daytona streaking past, and still he remained detached, eyes steady on the horizon where skyscrapers gleamed like molten gold in the sunset’s afterglow. A scene straight out of countless Hollywood classics.

Billboards flashed above, some peddling movies, some half-naked perfume ads, others splashed with the grinning faces of politicians making empty promises. A pair of tourists on the sidewalk spun to watch him pass, jaws slack as the Ferrari’s engine rattled their bones for a heartbeat.

As the city rolled by, Rex let the music carry him. The voices, the gossip, the neon... all of it was just noise. A background hum to his forward momentum. The city might’ve been caught in chaos, in gossip, in corruption, but Rex?

He was calm, eyes fixed ahead, driving toward The Biltmore Los Angeles... toward the Sterling family dinner where power, gratitude, and perhaps something more awaited. The Biltmore Los Angeles wasn’t close, not in traffic like this, but he wasn’t rushing. The drive itself was part of the performance.

He pressed the accelerator gently, the car responding like a wild stallion eager to run, weaving him seamlessly toward Baltimore Los Angeles.

...

The Ferreri devoured the last stretch of Wilshire like it owned the asphalt. The Los Angeles skyline rose ahead, towers catching the dying sun, their glass facades glowing as if some unseen hand had just applied a golden Instagram filter over the whole city. Traffic was forgiving for once, enough for the Daytona to purr and stretch, gliding past SUVs and sedans that looked like NPC filler cars in comparison.

By the time he reached Pershing Square, the shadows of palm trees were already stretching long across the pavement. The Millennium Biltmore rose ahead, a grand old titan of the city, its ornate Spanish-Italianate façade glowing under lanterns and evening floodlights.

Century-old stone arches, carved cherubs, and heavy bronze doors spoke of history... this was the place where presidents had stayed, movie stars had signed deals, and power had quietly shifted hands over dinners no one else was allowed to attend.

The car’s sleek, futuristic lines caught the dying light of the LA sunset, making it gleam as if it had been polished by the sky itself. The growl of the V12 drew stares long before the tires kissed the stone-paved entrance.

Pulling into the circular driveway, Rex’s Ferreri blended into a parade of opulence. Lembos, Bantleys, Rolls... each one a flex, each one announcing, "Yes, I too spent money recklessly."

This was LA, after all, luxury cars were the background noise of wealth. But the SR3 still drew glances; it was rarer, sharper, almost predatory among the polished elegance of its peers. Heads turned, not in disbelief, but in the subtle curiosity of those who’d seen wealth all their lives.

So when the valet saw another exotic beast prowl up, he didn’t bat an eye. But the moment Rex stepped out, as usual time seem to glitch. Forks froze mid-air at the outdoor café, sunglasses lowered, and even the hotel doorman, who’d seen actual royalty... stood a little taller, as if he’d just been promoted.

It wasn’t the car. It wasn’t even the branded clothes whispering wealth. It was him. That unfair, "SSR character unlocked" kind of presence. The kind of charisma that made people subconsciously check their reflection in the nearest glass, just to make sure they were still presentable in the same frame. A few whispers floated through the valet line.

"Is he an actor?"

"No, no, definitely a CEO. Look at that posture."

"...bro, that’s not posture, that’s genetics. Dude rolled a nat 20 at birth."

Rex stepped out, unhurried, his expression calm, a faint trace of a smile playing at his lips. He adjusted his cuff as if oblivious to the stares, though he could feel them... eyes trying to measure him, to categorize him, to decide whether he was some movie mogul, tech billionaire, or foreign prince.

And then came the real surprise: waiting at the hotel entrance wasn’t just staff, but the entire Sterling family.

As for how he knew it was the Sterlings? Well, it wasn’t some Sherlock Holmes deduction skill at play. Vivienne and Arabella were right in front, looking like they’d just stepped out of a magazine spread. Even a fool would’ve put two and two together... unless someone thought the richest family in LA had clones casually wandering around.

Still, it caught him off guard. According to what he knew, the Sterling family wasn’t just another well-to-do American household with a few zeroes in their bank balance. No, they were a dynasty. The kind of people whose names showed up in glossy business magazines and whispered conversations at private clubs.

And now the whole ensemble cast.. parents, uncles, aunts, cousins, wasn’t tucked away in some chandelier-lit private dining room, nor discreetly holding court inside the marble lobby. They were outside, right there, waiting in plain view.

It wasn’t just unusual, it was a statement. The Biltmore had seen senators, tycoons, and movie stars breeze through its revolving doors without causing a ripple. Yet here was one of the city’s wealthiest families lined up at the entrance like they were welcoming royalty. If nothing else, it showed sincerity.

And of course, he felt a flicker of something he didn’t expect... honor. Not the kind that made him puff out his chest, but a quiet acknowledgment. For a family like the Sterlings to wait for him, in public no less, meant his decision to come hadn’t just been the right call, it had been the perfect one.

At the front of the group was Vivienne Sterling. She looked poised and radiant, elegant dress, simple but classy, the kind of beauty that didn’t need extra effort. Next to her was a woman who was clearly her mom.

A little older, but graceful in a way that didn’t come from expensive brands, more from just... being who she was. Beside her stood a man with a head of silver hair at the temples. Calm, composed, that quiet aura of someone who didn’t need to shout to be respected. Yeah, that had to be her dad.

Around them were uncles and aunts, all well-dressed, carrying themselves like people who had grown up knowing they belonged at the top of the ladder.

And then, right in the middle of all the formality, was Arabella. The little girl spotted him first, her whole face lighting up. She waved her hands like she’d been waiting hours just for this, almost bouncing where she stood.

One thing, though... Rex noticed someone missing. he glanced once, casually, but Vivienne’s husband was nowhere to be seen. A flicker of thought crossed his mind, but he didn’t dwell on it.

(End of Chapter)

Author’s Note:

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