If Ross's P1 was illegal in most parts of the world, then Kimberly's Agera was the most illegal car in the world. Not like she was a stranger to anything of that sort. Her Skyline was incredibly illegal, but at the same time it was pretty legal too. She used that Japanese icon like an everyday car. Still though, how often does someone get to drive a Koenigsegg Agera? It was something the Swedish did very well, in addition to things like fish, meatballs, or cheaply made tables/dressers/desks that were a bitch to assemble. Every time she revved it, she could feel the twin-turbo V8 roar behind her. Every single rumble and bumble, the whine of both the turbos just ready to kick her harder in the butt than she had ever felt in her life. It was like that twin-turbo 5.0L V8 was a direct descendant of Thor himself, those Swedes really knew how to make a car. Kimberly wasn't a huge believer in that hippie-shit that was in the P1, Porsche 918, and LaFerrari. The technology on those cars reminded her of Priuses, and Priuses were her least favorite car in the world. Nope, she wouldn't even be caught in dead in one. Not even the racing version. The Prius was an abomination and disgrace to cars everywhere. Thank goodness cars like these existed. She wouldn't know what she wouldn't do if cars like the Prius were everywhere. 

As she pulled down the road, she revved the V8 once again as a showing off. Turbos whining and everything. They were eager to be pushed to the limit, kinda like a puppy that could see the big great outdoors through the clear door that lead outside. She knew she had some sort of advantage over the P1, whether it'd be the lack of hippie shit or the power to weight ratio. As soon as Ross departed and disappeared to only-god-knows-where, Kimberly went into a different lane and gave it about 85% throttle. The punch she experience as the car's tires squealed was something she had only experienced a handful of times in her life. And she loved it every time. The V8 roared, the modern version of Thor's Mjolnir tearing down the Arabian roads. The car was fuck-your-shit fast, and by god Kimberly was having the time of her life. Within one blink, the car was already heading upwards of 175 mph, her knuckles becoming white from the amount of grip she needed to keep the car stable. 0-62 mph in 2.8 seconds. Kimberly could swear she the last time she smiled this much was when her daughter first uttered her first words. Her daughter would always hold a special place in her heart, but this was a moment she would remember forever. How often does one get to drive a 1160bhp car on a closed Arabian road? Not many people, definitely not anyone she knew (as far as she knew anyway). 

The Swedish hypercar was closing in on its British counterpart rapidly, speeds climbing up and up as Kimberly gave it more throttle gradually. This was a car that would bite you in the ass if you fucked up. However, this wasn't anything she was a stranger to. Fast cars were right up her alley, and this wouldn't be a car she was afraid of. There was no car she was afraid of, no matter how insane or how incredibly bizzare it was. If it was able to be driven, Kimberly could tame it. She had a natural knack for these, but it was to be expected considering her family lineage with these. Her father owned a Ferrari 599 GTO, one of the rarest, but best Ferrari's ever created. Kimberly was sort of squinting as the brightness of the day shined down on her. It was usual for a place like this. Not a big deal. Kimberly's car had broken the 190 mph barrier, and it showed no signs of slowing down at all. 

Kimberly could only smile as she zipped past her husband, her Agera just pounding down the road going as fast as it possibly could. She was hoping this road would go on forever, she did not want to get out of this car at all, ever.