The car roared beneath me as I sped down the street.
I could feel the vibrations with my body and I knew without any doubts that I was driving an absolute beast.
It felt like flying. But on land.
Matt and I had pushed the car to its limits at the racetrack after we'd bought it but I still felt the urge to just floor it in the city streets.
Jail is temporary but the memories I'd make will be eternal. Or so Matt says.
Driving within the speed limit did give me the satisfaction of seeing some reactions to my car. I have to admit, it's an ego boosting experience.
Now, I can understand why some people change the moment they get money.
But are they really changing? Or is the money just bringing out the personality that was always there but had no chance to be shown before? Well, I'm not a philosopher and I don't have the answers.
My phone rang, jarring me out of my thoughts. I quickly glanced down to see it was an incoming call from Matt.
I tapped the steering wheel control, activating the car's infotainment system.
The display rose up from the center dash like Iron Man's helmet. I grinned to myself as I spoke.
"Accept call."
The hum of the car's engine dulled slightly as the noise canceling system kicked in.
"Hey bro." Matt's voice came through the speakers. "Are you there yet?"
"Almost." I answered, keeping my eyes on the road. I had just passed through the university gates.
"Okay." He said. "Are you sure she'll be there?"
"She has to be. This is the only place we can reliably orchestrate what would look like a chance meeting. We're both students here."
I could picture him nodding. "Alright. Call me when you're done. Okay?"
"Of course I will." I grinned. "See ya bro."
"Later."
I ended the call with a tap on the steering wheel control. Today is the day. I'll drive in and watch my Senna work its magic.
My mind went to my research. Various news sources had pegged Mila's net worth at twenty million dollars.
She had also invested heavily in the cosmetic brand she had launched, converting her followers into even more cash.
When I get her stamp, I'll be getting a whooping two hundred million dollars. If this plan doesn't work, I'll have no choice but to approach her myself.
One does not simply let two hundred million walk away.
Within a few minutes, I pulled up to the Faculty of Business and Economics, or as everyone on campus called it, the faculty of snobs.
I eased the Senna into one of the closest parking spots, perfectly timing my arrival with the end of Mila's lecture.
The car's low growl caught the attention of the nearby students, their heads turning to stare wide eyed.
A few cameras made an appearance, with the onlookers whispering excitedly with each other.
I picked up my sunglasses and put it on before stepping out of the car like this was routine.
But in reality, I could barely contain the adrenaline that came from watching people react to the car, and me.
The car glinted under the light of the sun, shining like liquid fire and I knew it wouldn't take long.
As if on cue, Mila, with two of her friends on either side, walked out of the building with her usual strut.
She was wearing the same type of oversized sunglasses she'd worn on the bus and had that effortless look of perfection that the major influencers always manage to pull off.
She was in the middle of a conversation with her friends when she noticed my car. Her reaction was instant.
"Oh my God!" She squealed, stopping in her tracks.
Her friends looked around to see what caught her attention and when they saw my car, exchanged knowing glances.
Mila broke away from them, walking straight to my car. "Is that a McLaren Senna?!" She squealed in excitement. Exactly as I'd predicted.
I smiled, leaning against the door casually. "Yeah, it is."
She practically bounced closer, her eyes wide behind her sunglasses. "Can I take a picture with it?" She was already taking her phone out.
"Of course." I gestured with a wave of my hand. I wasn't about to deny her the opportunity, especially when this was part of the plan.
She handed her phone to one of her friends, who was already stepping into the role of photographer. I guess this was routine for them.
Mila posed next to my car, her hand resting lightly on the hood as she smiled into the camera. She struck a few sexy poses, before turning to me.
"Come on. Let's take a few together. It's your car." She smiled widely at me.
With a shrug, I moved to stand beside her. As the camera clicked, I turned toward her, lowering my sunglasses just enough for effect.
"Have we met before?" I asked, as if the question had just struck me.
Mila blinked, her smile dimming for just a second. "I don't think so. Maybe you've seen me online? I'm pretty popular." She threw in a playful smile with that.
I laughed, shaking my head. "No, not just online. I remember now... the bus, two weeks ago. You spilled coffee on me."
She frowned in confusion, trying to remember what I was talking about. "Wait, what?" She asked but there was still a note of confusion in her voice. "That was you?"
I nodded in agreement. "Yeah. You totally forgot about me." I smirked. "And you never paid me back for that shirt."
That was when it clicked for her and her eyes widened in realization. "Oh my God, that was you!" She gave a small, startled laugh, looking genuinely surprised. "I'm so sorry! I didn't even realize."
"It's fine," I said, waving off the apology like it was nothing. "But you still owe me."
She laughed at my words. "Alright. What do I have to do to make it up to you?"
This was the moment I'd been waiting for. I know that if I'd been the nobody that I was on the bus, she wouldn't have even asked that question.
I smiled at her. "How about a challenge?"
Her eyes lit up instantly, the word challenge pinging the influencer part of her brain. "Go on..." She said with interest.
"Let's race. You and I. Me in this car and you in one of yours." I gestured to the Senna. "We'll hit the open road, or a track. How about it?"
Her eyes sparkled with excitement. I could practically see her brain calculating how many views and likes she'd get if she filmed the whole thing. "Are you serious?"
"Completely." I nodded, pulling out my 'handsome guy' smile. "What's more exciting than tearing up the track in one of the world's fastest supercars?"
"Honestly? That sounds amazing." Her grin widened. "Alright, I'm in. But you better not be holding back just because I'm a girl."
I chuckled. "You'll get the full experience, trust me."
I held out my phone to her. "Here. Give me your number. We'll figure out the details."
She took the phone, inputted her number, and handed it back. "I'll give you a call soon."
Mila smiled playfully at me. "You better."
I gave her a nod, then casually turned on my heel and walked toward the entrance of the business faculty like I had some important meeting to get to.
Behind me, I could still hear Mila and her friends whispering excitedly, probably already planning their next Instagram post.
I'd done it. I'd gotten Mila's number, all without even having to exchange names. That, ladies and gentlemen, is the power of cold hard cash.
Very soon, I'd have Mila's stamp, two hundred million dollars and an introduction into high society.
Now, it was just a matter of time.