Richard chuckled at her remark. Grace looked at him and asked, "Is everyone in Aethelburg right now?"

  "No, a few people went home for the National Day holiday."

  Grace nodded. "Then we'll wait until everyone's back after the holiday. I'll treat the whole team to a meal."

  With that, she directly transferred 5 Dollars to Richard on LetsChat.

  Richard was startled and instinctively refused. "Grace, I can't take this. I really can't accept it."

  Grace explained calmly, "It's not for you alone. Split it among the eight of you. At the very least, you should have your basic daily necessities covered. This will be a monthly arrangement."

  "We're already incredibly grateful that you're willing to invest and believe in us." Richard felt deeply embarrassed and moved to reject the transfer. "I really can't accept this."

  "I've invested hundreds of thousands, and you're too embarrassed to accept a few dollars in support?" Grace cut him off, her tone earnest. "Right now, I need you all focused entirely on the project. As your investor, the last thing I want is for you to be distracted by other concerns. If everyone has to take part-time jobs like Harry just to cover living expenses, the project timeline will inevitably drag on. Time cost is still a cost. Hidden losses are something I have to consider, too."

  That argument was persuasive. Richard's hand hesitated mid-air.

  Even Scarlett couldn't stand by any longer. "Grace has thought this through very carefully," she chimed in. "Now's not the time to be stubborn. She's putting all her energy into supporting the project and all of you. If you're truly grateful, the best thing you can do is pour your efforts into making this project a success."

  Richard bit his lip, torn. There was a stirring of emotion deep in his chest.

  Finally, he nodded. "Then... on behalf of everyone, thank you."

  Seeing him accept the transfer, Grace smiled. "Once the contract is signed, you'll officially be my team. I'll stand with you through thick and thin. Don't put too much pressure on yourselves. I know investment comes with risks. Even if things don't work out in the end, I won't hold it against any of you."

  "We'll do our absolute best," Richard said solemnly.

  An iced Americano later, Richard left with the contract.

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  Grace checked the time and turned to Scarlett. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?"

  Scarlett thought for a moment. "I was thinking of getting a manicure."

  "You go do your nails. I want to go look at cars."

  "You're buying a car? Can you drive?" Scarlett asked.

  Grace did know how to drive, of course—she just didn't have a license yet.

  "Delivery takes time anyway. I'll go get my license in the meantime."

  Scarlett hesitated. "Then I'll come with you to look at cars. Getting a manicure alone is boring."

  Grace nodded, and the two linked arms as they left the café. Scarlett asked curiously, "What kind of car are you thinking of getting?"

  "I'll see. I don't know much about cars."

  With nothing pressing to do, they visited several luxury car dealerships—Ferrari, Bentley, Lamborghini—but Grace didn't find a single one she liked.

  She wasn't an expert on cars, far from it. What mattered most to her was immediate appeal.

  If a car caught her eye at first glance, she'd pay for it without hesitation.

  Finally, they walked into a Rolls-Royce dealership.

  As soon as they entered, Scarlett flopped onto a sofa in the lounge area, looking at Grace with weary eyes. "Sweetie, you browse on your own. I really need to rest—my legs feel like they've been whittled down to toothpicks."

  Grace smiled helplessly and nodded. Just then, a sales associate approached to assist them.

  "Good afternoon, ma'am. Are you here to purchase a vehicle?" The associate was a young woman with dimples and a sweet, lilting voice.

  Grace nodded. "Yes. Could you show me around?"

  "Of course, right this way." The young woman led the way enthusiastically, turning her head to ask, "Have you looked into Rolls-Royce models before, ma'am? Do you have a particular style in mind?"

  Grace smiled and shook her head. "I don't know much about cars."

  The associate offered a professional smile. "Not a problem. I'd be happy to introduce you to our models. If you find one you like, you're welcome to sit inside and get a feel for it."

  "Great, thank you."

  As they spoke, the associate led Grace into the showroom. The first section was filled with compact sedans and vibrantly colored sports cars.

  Based on her experience, female customers usually gravitated toward sleek, eye-catching sedans or sports cars. So she had instinctively brought Grace to this section first.

  Unfortunately, Grace wasn't interested in these.

  She preferred classic colors—black and white—and favored models with a more commanding, elegant presence.

  After a brief glance around, Grace said directly, "I don't care for sports cars. Could you show me something larger?"

  "No problem, right this way."

  They moved to another section of the showroom, where the vehicles were strikingly different from the delicate compacts she'd just seen. Grace's eyes lit up. She spotted a white car instantly.

  This was what she meant by "immediate appeal." If it caught her eye at first glance, it was never wrong.

  Without waiting for the associate to lead the way, Grace walked straight toward it. The car was dignified and bold, its white body sleek in profile, accented with subtle touches of pink that lent it a distinctly feminine charm without making it seem difficult for a woman to handle.

  The young associate hurried after her. "This is our latest Rolls-Royce Cullinan model. The overall body is finished in..."

  As she launched into a detailed technical spiel, she opened the door, revealing the opulent interior and the signature Starlight Headliner.

  "How soon can I take delivery?" Grace cut in, bypassing the technical jargon.

  The associate blinked in surprise before quickly responding. "If you place a deposit today, ma'am, the earliest delivery would be in three months."

  "Any way to make it faster?" Grace asked.

  It would take her at most a month to retake her driver's license exam.

  The associate apologized with a shake of her head. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Aside from our standard models, most Rolls-Royce vehicles are not mass-produced. They require a queue. Three months is the fastest possible timeframe."

  Grace nodded in understanding. She was about to finalize the order when someone suddenly popped up beside her.

  "Grace!"

  Startled, Grace turned her head to find Douglas Vance.

  Unlike the night of the reception, when he'd worn an ostentatiously embroidered suit, Douglas was today dressed simply in a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, paired with the ultimate relaxed touch—flip-flops.

  "You're not stalking me, are you?" Grace asked, half-jokingly.

  Douglas shrugged and tilted his chin toward the far end of the showroom. "I came by to drop off my car for maintenance. Didn't expect to run into you here."

  His gaze shifted to the Cullinan in front of them, and his eyes lit up with admiration. "Whoa. A girl going for a Cullinan? That's badass!"