The first day at The Velvet Bean ended not with a bang, but with a lingering, aromatic silence. As the sun dipped below the Los Angeles skyline, painting the city in shades of bruised purple and electric gold, Rex flipped the "Closed" sign for the last time that evening. His muscles ached with a rhythmic thrum… a physical symphony of labor that felt grounded and strangely satisfying.
He didn't linger. After ensuring Arthur and Martha were settled upstairs, their faces glowing with a hope he hadn't seen when he first arrived, Rex stepped out into the cool night air. The Ferrari Daytona SP3 sat under the streetlights like a resting predator, its crimson paint shimmering. He drove home in silence, the V12 engine providing the only soundtrack he needed… a low, mechanical growl that harmonized with the quiet streets of Beverly Hills.
