“And this is a fifteen-ton flatbed, pal,” the tow driver yelled back over the engine roar, calmly cranking the winch and hoisting the silver sedan straight into the air.
“What on earth is going on out here?!” Sterling screamed, turning around to find someone to blame, his half-empty champagne glass sloshing in his hand. “Routine emergency safety enforcement, sir,” Priya announced coolly, stepping forward with an official clipboard while steel tow hooks clanked violently against metal frames.
Behind Sterling’s silver sedan, “Dr. VIP’s” prized Porsche was already three feet off the pavement. Dozens of gala guests whipped out their phones to record the meltdown, cheering as a second tow truck rolled around the corner. Luis stood near the top of the steps, looking completely detached from the glorious chaos unfolding down in the driveway.