"President Baptiste, what else do you need to think about? Why not just tell us?" Christian, the vice president of Porsche, pressed relentlessly. He had a gut feeling that if he didn't lock down this deal right now, Porsche might not get another shot later.
And his hunch was spot on. Because at that very moment, two sealed trucks trailing the convoy finally pulled up in front of Bugatti's headquarters after hustling to catch up.
Baptiste, who'd been cornered into making a decision, couldn't help but glance at Mavi. Then he asked, "Uh… Mr. Mavi, if I may be so bold—how much are you willing to spend to acquire Bugatti?"
The reason Baptiste had been stalling with his "let me think about it" line was simple: he wanted to hear Mavi's offer. If Mavi's terms didn't beat Porsche's, he'd have no choice but to go with Porsche, even if it left him disappointed. It was just business.
Mavi, standing in front of them, chuckled lightly before responding to Bugatti's president. "Mr. Baptiste, I think Porsche's offer is pretty solid. Honestly, before I got here, I was only prepared to go as high as $535 million—Bugatti's current market valuation."
Mavi spoke casually, almost offhandedly. Sure, he had deep pockets, but he wasn't about to let the EU think their little scheme had worked, jacking up his acquisition costs. A company worth a little over $500 million could easily get inflated to $800 or $900 million in a bidding war. (If Mavi upped his offer to $685 million, Porsche could spitefully counter with $785 million.)
Even if Mavi threw cash around and snagged Bugatti, it'd leave a bad taste in his mouth. Getting "played" by petty tactics and doubling his spend wasn't the same as splashing out willingly—like when he bought that sports team back in the day. The two situations were apples and oranges.
Hearing Mavi's offer—$1.5 billion less than Porsche's—Christian, the Porsche VP, suddenly felt a rush of glee and let a bright grin slip. So I overestimated this guy, he thought. All this time, Mavi's only willing to cough up $535 million. And from the sound of it, he's not even open to raising it.
"Mr. Mavi?" Baptiste asked, a hint of concern in his voice. "Would you… be willing to bump your offer up to $685 million?" If Mavi matched Porsche's price, Baptiste would still consider him.
But if the gap was too wide… well, for the sake of the company's future, he'd have to go with the other side.
"Mr. Baptiste, when it comes to the acquisition price, I'm sticking to my original number. I won't go higher," Mavi said firmly.
The moment he finished, Baptiste's face dimmed. He nodded faintly, signaling he understood.
Meanwhile, Christian, standing off to the side, started smirking, convinced Porsche had this in the bag.
But right then, Mavi clapped his hands twice and shifted the conversation. "That said… Mr. Baptiste, some things are better seen with your own eyes."
With those two claps, the doors of the sealed trucks behind him swung open. Out rolled a jaw-dropping "blue-and-white porcelain" Bugatti Veyron, oozing style and flair! Its design echoed the Bugatti EB110 but with a bunch of unique twists.
And that wasn't all! When the second truck's doors opened, a sleek, futuristic silver-gray supercar revealed itself in all its cool, badass glory. Its shape was so unfamiliar that everyone present—including Baptiste and Christian—had never laid eyes on anything like it.
Only Mavi knew its origin: the Porsche 918 Spyder, one of the "holy trinity" of supercars from his past life!
"My God… Mr. Mavi, these two supercars! What are they…?" Baptiste snapped out of his daze and whipped his head toward Mavi. It finally clicked why Mavi wouldn't budge on price. Those two cars in the trucks? They were meant for Bugatti.
If he'd just agreed to Porsche's deal, these groundbreaking designs would've slipped through Bugatti's fingers—something they'd regret forever.
Christian, the Porsche VP, stood there, his eyelid twitching as he stared at the two dazzling cars. Despite seeing countless vehicles in his career, even he had to tip his hat to whoever designed these masterpieces. Calling them "works of genius" didn't feel like an overstatement.
Mavi didn't say a word, just flashed a faint smile. But his expression seemed to taunt Christian: Surprised? Shocked? I told you not to piss me off—when I get mad, even I'm scared of what I'll do…
Of course, that was just the crowd's guess at Mavi's thoughts based on his vibe. It didn't mean he was actually thinking that.
Still, one thing was clear: don't mess with Mavi. The memories and experience packed in his head could crush plenty of people if he let loose…
Take this moment, for example. Pulling out the Porsche 918 Spyder was a brutal jab at Porsche's shady competition—and a middle finger to the German government backing them. It was a slick, ballsy move. But Mavi had been pushed into it; otherwise, he'd have had to shell out an extra $400 or $500 million to snag Bugatti.
---
Once Mavi unveiled those two cars, Christian knew Porsche was toast.
Compared to their EB118—a design still on paper—these mystery cars screamed style and futurism. And the kicker? They were fully built concept cars, not just sketches. Porsche didn't even have a tire or a bolt to show yet. No contest.
In the end, Baptiste naturally chose Mavi's side without hesitation. He handed over more than 90% of Bugatti's shares for $538 million.
To streamline his group's auto division, Mavi folded Bugatti under Lamborghini's umbrella, sealing the acquisition.
As for the "porcelain Bugatti Veyron" and "Bugatti-style 918 Spyder" he'd brought today? They'd get their big reveal at a car show on a lucky date down the road…
But per tradition, their debut wouldn't be at Geneva in Europe. Nope—Russia and China's auto shows would get first dibs.
(Chapter End)