He decided to move it onto the driveway while he cleaned the garage.
It was a small decision.
The kind nobody remembers making.
But it placed him outside his home at the precise moment Victoria Whitmore was driving through the neighborhood.
Victoria had also received the closing notification.
Her attorney, Elliot Pierce, sent a detailed summary before nine.
It confirmed the share transaction, the updated governance arrangements, and the schedule for the first meeting with Northstar's controlling shareholder.
Elliot advised her to review the attached beneficial-ownership confirmation and prepare for a professional introduction.
Victoria barely looked at it.
She was irritated.
The company was no longer hers to control unilaterally.
She still held the chief executive position during the transition, but she understood that important decisions would now require cooperation with the new investor and the board.
She feared losing authority.
She feared losing status.
And she resented the executives who had supported the restructuring.
Her morning began with a tense telephone call to Elliot.
"I built this company."
He answered calmly.
"I know."
"And now some investment firm gets to tell me how to run it?"
"Under the agreement, the new shareholder has controlling voting rights, subject to the company's governing documents and applicable law."
Victoria sighed.
"Spare me the lecture."
Elliot paused.
"Victoria, the best thing you can do today is cooperate with the transition."
She laughed bitterly.
"That's easy for you to say."
He took a breath.
"Please read the closing packet before the meeting."
She didn't answer.
Instead, she ended the call.
Then she gathered her handbag and left for what she intended to be a quick drive through Sterling Oaks before heading to the office.
As she passed Malik's house, she saw the Ferrari parked outside.
The garage door was open.
Malik stood beside the driver's door holding a microfiber cloth.
He had just finished wiping dust from the windshield.
Victoria slowed.
Her eyes moved over the car.
Then the man.
And for reasons she would later struggle to explain, she felt an immediate surge of anger.
The property looked beautiful.
The Ferrari was immaculate.
And Malik seemed entirely comfortable standing there.
She didn't like that.
She had spent years treating Sterling Oaks as a symbol of her own success.
Now she was watching a young Black man enjoying a level of wealth she had assumed he couldn't possibly possess.
Rather than accept what was in front of her, she invented an explanation.
He must be a worker.
A driver.
Someone moving the car for a wealthy owner.