Dayo stood in front of the mirror for a brief moment, adjusting the fall of his collar.
He wasn't dressed to impress.
Just a simple white top, clean and fitted, paired with black trousers that sat perfectly on his frame. No logos. No excess. A thin silver neck chain rested against his chest, catching the light subtly whenever he moved.
Simple.
Classic.
Effortless.
The kind of look that didn't scream wealth, but quietly confirmed it.
He grabbed his keys and headed out.
Outside, the night air was calm. Dayo walked past a row of cars before stopping in front of a sleek Porsche 911 Carrera S, jet black, low to the ground, timeless in design. It wasn't the most expensive car he owned—not even close—but it was perfect for tonight.
Elegant. Fast. Understated.
He got in, the engine humming smoothly as he pulled out of the driveway.
