Do you have any idea where you are right now? This is Ashborne Crest. People like you don't just show up here with cars like that unless something illegal is happening. A neighbor walking his golden retriever slowed down to watch. An elderly woman watering her roses pretended not to stare while hanging on every word.
Marcus felt their eyes on him, measuring his reaction, waiting to see if he would lose control. He didn't. The property deed is in my name, Marcus said quietly. The vehicle registration matches my license. Would you like to see the paperwork?
Paperwork can be faked, Vanessa shot back. I don't know what scam you're running or who you think you're fooling, but it won't work here. We protect each other in this neighborhood. We look out for suspicious activity. She pulled out her phone, her manicured thumb hovering over the screen.
There's a man here stealing a Ferrari, she said into the phone, her voice suddenly shaking with fake fear. "He's in my neighborhood, and I'm scared." The police cruiser pulled into the driveway with its lights flashing, but no siren. Officer Grant Bellamy climbed out of the driver's seat, his thick frame filling out his uniform like he spent more time at the gym than behind a desk. His partner, Officer Daniel Reeves, emerged from the passenger side, younger and leaner, his eyes already scanning the scene with careful attention.
Vanessa, rushed toward them, her heels clicking rapidly against the concrete. Officers, thank God you're here. This man refuses to leave. He's been standing here for 20 minutes, acting like he owns the place. Marcus remained exactly where he was, one shoulder still pressed against the Ferrari, hands clearly visible at his sides.
He watched Bellamy's face, noting how the officer's expression hardened the moment he saw a black man standing next to an expensive car in this neighborhood. Sir, step away from the vehicle, Bellamy commanded without introducing himself or asking a single question. His voice carried the kind of authority that expected instant obedience. Marcus didn't move. Officer, I'd like to show you my identification, vehicle registration, and property deed.
Everything will confirm that I live here and own this car. I said step away from the vehicle, Bellamy repeated, his hand moving closer to his belt. Now, Vanessa stepped forward, pointing directly at Marcus'ss face. Then, she did something that made every neighbor stop pretending they weren't watching. She flipped him off, holding her middle finger inches from his nose.
"You deserve this," she hissed. "You deserve to be caught. People like you don't just appear in places like Ashborne Crest with cars like that. You don't belong here, and everyone knows it." Marcus looked at her finger, then at her face.