Hailey didn't understand why Brett couldn't simply find another vehicle.
One evening, she asked.
"Why don't you return the sponsor's money and move on?"
He glared.
"Because that would make me look like a failure."
She frowned.
"People make mistakes."
He shook his head.
"Not when everybody's watching."
Then he showed her a black permanent marker.
Hailey stared.
"What is that for?"
Brett smiled.
"Something Caleb's going to remember."
For a moment, she thought he was joking.
Then she noticed how seriously he was looking at the marker.
"Brett, don't do anything stupid."
He laughed.
"Relax."
She didn't.
And when he asked her to record a video outside Caleb's house the following Saturday, she agreed reluctantly, believing he intended to film another confrontation rather than damage the car.
It was a decision she would regret almost immediately.
Saturday morning arrived with clear skies and a pleasant breeze.
Caleb had been working in his home office since eight. Turner Motion Works was preparing a new production order, and he wanted to review several technical drawings before heading to the workshop on Monday.
The Lamborghini stood on the driveway because he'd moved it outside while cleaning the garage.
Its yellow paint gleamed in the sunlight.
Caleb planned to take it for a short drive later that afternoon.
At 9:12, his driveway camera detected movement.
Marianne approached with two men.
One wore a gray work shirt.
The other carried a large folder.
A flatbed truck waited near the curb.
Caleb's phone displayed the motion alert, but he was in the middle of a business call and didn't open the recording immediately.
The visitors remained near the car for less than ten minutes.
Then they left.
An hour later, Brett arrived with Hailey.
He wore his bright-blue hoodie despite the pleasant weather, along with black ripped jeans and white sneakers.
Hailey held her phone.
She thought Brett wanted to record another complaint about Caleb refusing access to the Lamborghini.
Instead, he pulled out the permanent marker.
For a moment, she stared.
"Brett, what are you doing?"
He grinned.
"Making a point."
She lowered the camera slightly.
"Don't write on his car."
He ignored her.
Then he leaned toward the yellow door and began forming the first letter.
Hailey's stomach dropped.
She should have stopped recording.
Should have called out more forcefully.
Should have walked away.
Instead, she froze.
The marker moved across the Lamborghini.