“We’ve inspected the electrical system.”

Ethan nodded politely.

“Yes, sir. But did you check the communication wires while the harness was moving?”

Bennett stopped.

He looked toward the Ferrari.

Then toward his diagnostic laptop.

“Interesting.”

Richard threw up his hands.

“Oh, for God’s sake. We’re taking mechanical advice from a child now?”

Ethan looked directly at him.

“Give me five minutes to show you what I mean.”

Richard stared.

“Five minutes?”

“Yes, sir.”

The billionaire smiled coldly.

“All right. Let’s make this interesting.”

He reached inside his jacket, removed his wallet, and placed a black credit card on the workbench.

“If you fix that Ferrari in five minutes, I’ll give you fifty thousand dollars.”

Charles’s eyebrows shot upward.

“Sir—”

“But if you fail,” Richard interrupted, “you and your mother are never setting foot in this building again.”

Ethan froze.

His mother’s job.

Their rent.

Their groceries.

Everything depended on that paycheck.

“Mr. Caldwell,” Bennett said sharply, “there’s no reason to threaten his mother’s employment.”

Richard ignored him.

“What’s wrong, kid? Not so confident anymore?”

Ethan looked toward the staff entrance.

His mother stood there holding a cleaning cart.

She had heard everything.

“Ethan,” she whispered, “don’t.”

He could see the fear in her eyes.

Seven years of hard work could disappear because of a billionaire’s wounded pride.

But Ethan also remembered something his mother had told him years earlier.

Never let someone else’s opinion decide what you’re capable of.

He turned back toward Richard.

“I’ll do it.”

The garage fell silent.

Richard pulled out his phone.

“Five minutes. Starting now.”

Ethan walked toward the Ferrari.

He didn’t touch the engine immediately.

Instead, he asked Bennett for access to the diagnostic readings.

The older engineer handed him the laptop.

Ethan examined the error history, then compared it with the measurements captured during previous starting attempts.

“Four minutes and thirty seconds,” Richard announced.

Ethan ignored him.

He crouched beside the rear compartment and examined a section of the wiring harness.

Several technicians watched with crossed arms.

One whispered, “He’s wasting his time.”

Another replied, “This is ridiculous.”

Ethan reached for a flashlight.

“Dr. Bennett, could you watch the communication readings while I gently move this harness?”

Bennett nodded.

Ethan carefully moved the wiring near a metal bracket.

Suddenly, one of the readings changed.

Bennett leaned closer.

“Wait.”

Ethan released the harness.

The signal disappeared.

He moved it again.

The signal returned.

Bennett’s eyes widened.

“Do that again.”

Ethan repeated the movement.

The same result.

A technician stepped forward.

“That’s impossible. We already tested that circuit.”

Ethan glanced at him.

“You tested it while the harness was stationary.”

Bennett straightened.

“He’s right.”

Richard’s smile began to fade.

“What does that mean?”

Bennett spoke slowly.

“It means we’ve been replacing components when the problem may have been an intermittent connection all along.”

“Three minutes!” Charles announced.

Ethan carefully exposed the protective covering around the suspicious section.

Beneath it was a small connector that had not been fully seated.

The locking tab was damaged, and slight movement caused the electrical contact to separate.

Ethan pointed.

“There.”

Bennett stared at it.

“My God.”

One of the engineers leaned forward.

“How did we miss that?”

Ethan looked at the connector.

“Because the diagnostic readings made it look like a control module failure. But replacing a module won’t help if the communication line keeps disconnecting.”

Richard stood completely still.

Ethan turned to Bennett.

“Do you have a replacement locking clip and an approved connector repair kit?”

Bennett immediately opened a nearby equipment case.

“Yes.”

Working together, they secured the damaged connection with the proper replacement components and restored the protective covering.

“Two minutes!” Charles shouted.

Ethan stepped back.

“Okay.”

Richard frowned.

“Okay what?”

“Try starting it.”

The billionaire stared at him.

Then at the Ferrari.

Then at the engineers.

Bennett nodded.

“The connection is secure. We can perform a controlled start test.”

Richard slowly climbed into the driver’s seat.

He pressed the ignition button.

For one terrifying second, nothing happened.

Then—

VROOOOOOOOOOM!

The Ferrari roared to life.

The sound filled the concrete garage.

Every engineer froze.

Charles dropped the folder he had been holding.

Bennett stared at the diagnostic screen.

The communication errors had disappeared.

The engine idled smoothly.

No warning lights.

No hesitation.

No silence.

After eleven days of failure, the Ferrari was running.

Richard gripped the steering wheel.

He couldn’t believe it.

He switched the engine off.

Then started it again.

The Ferrari roared immediately.

A third time.

Perfect.

Ethan glanced at the phone.

One minute and twelve seconds remained.

He had identified the fault and helped secure the repair in less than four minutes.

For several seconds, there was no sound except the Ferrari’s engine.

Then Bennett began clapping.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

One of the younger engineers joined him.

Then another.

Within moments, the entire garage was applauding.

Everyone except Richard Caldwell.

He stepped out of the car, his face unreadable.

He looked at Ethan.

Then he looked at the connector repair.

“You’re telling me,” Richard said quietly, “that I spent two million dollars because of a loose electrical connection?”

Bennett cleared his throat.

“A damaged connector, sir. It was creating an intermittent network fault.”

Richard shook his head.

“Four engineering firms.”

Nobody answered.

“Eleven days.”

Silence.

“Two million dollars.”

Ethan remained standing beside the Ferrari.

Finally, Richard looked directly at him.

“How did you know?”

Ethan shrugged.

“My father taught me something before he died.”

Richard’s expression shifted.

“What was that?”

“He said when something expensive stops working, people usually assume the problem must be expensive too.”

Bennett smiled faintly.

Ethan continued.

“But sometimes the biggest problems come from the smallest things.”

Richard stared at the teenager.

For the first time that morning, he seemed unable to find the right words.

Then Charles stepped forward.

“Mr. Caldwell, about the fifty thousand dollars—”

Richard raised his hand.

“I remember what I said.”

He reached for his phone.

But before he could make a call, Grace hurried into the garage.

“Ethan!”

She grabbed her son’s arm.