Vivienne, an FBI agent with a busy career, parks her SUV at the entrance of a sports car store known for its sales. The salesmen, in suits, glance at her. "Hello, ma'am, what can I do for you?" one of them asks with a smile. Vivienne knows she has to be persuasive. He casually points out that he is interested in a Porsche Carrera S. Vivienne negotiates and closes the deal for one hundred and twenty thousand dollars, a low price for a well-maintained car. She knew the price was a trap. As she left the store in her new Porsche, Vivienne felt the weight of what she was carrying. More than a car, it is the key to dismantling a criminal network and a ticking time bomb. Police officer Henri Dupont, parked on the side of a busy avenue, watches the traffic warily. He is doing his regular duty, but his job is rarely motivated by duty alone. The car was a model recently stolen by a Los Angeles gang. The information triggered a click. Henri did not doubt the possibility of a mistake and did not consider a valid explanation. He saw a clear connection: stolen car, suspect driver. Henri turned on the car's headlights, lighting up the street with flashes of red and blue. Vivienne felt a tightness in her chest when she heard the sirens behind her. She knew she was acting legally, but she understood what it meant to be a black woman driving a luxury car in a country where prejudice trumped reality. She slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road, trying to remain calm. Henri got out of the car, walking with a heavy step, his hand firmly placed on his gun holster. His air of stern authority was unmistakable. He had decided Vivienne was guilty before she had even spoken. "Get out of the car!" Put your hands in the air, I want to see! He shouted, his voice laced with an aggressive authority that made Vivienne’s blood boil. “With all due respect, Officer, what’s going on?” Vivienne asked, controlling her tone despite her strained patience. “This car is stolen and you need to explain how you got it.” Vivienne blinked in surprise, then tried to pull herself together. “I bought this car and I have the paperwork and the invoice as proof.” Henri didn’t seem to want to listen. He walked over and forced Vivienne out of the car abruptly. Vivienne hit her head on the hood when he shoved her, feeling the pain spread quickly. Her face began to swell and she realized that this wasn’t normal procedure, but abuse. “You can’t treat me like this,” Vivienne protests, her voice thick with pain. “This practice is irregular and I want an explanation!” Henri steps forward. “You were framed or you are connected to a gang. This vehicle was stolen.” “Shut up!” Vivienne, feeling the pain on his face, understood that this was not a simple misunderstanding. It was something deeper. Henri did not just suspect her, he had already mentally condemned her. Her role as an FBI agent, her training and experience were of no importance at that moment. To him, she was only a suspect, and he was the judge and executioner. Vivienne was a woman who did not submit easily. As Henri mistreated her, she knew she had to show intelligence. “I have everything it takes to prove that this is my car.” » “Why don’t you check the documents before you consider me a criminal?” Vivienne closed her eyes for a moment, trying to silence what she wanted to scream. As an FBI agent, she knew that any uncontrolled reaction would be used against her. However, training did not help to stifle the indignation inside her. The man would not listen. He had already determined who she was, what she did and where she belonged - and it did not involve driving a luxury PORSCHE. You will be surprised by what will happen in this story. An incredible and unimaginable twist! I ask you with all my heart to leave a like and subscribe to the channel!