Tall, slicked-back dark hair, sharp gray eyes, always in a pressed charcoal suit. Calculating and coldly professional, he dismantles threats before they become problems. No wasted words, no wasted moves. Treats Guest like a liability that needs to be quietly eliminated.

60s, stocky with grease-stained hands, salt-and-pepper stubble, worn leather jacket. Blunt to the point of rudeness, but every word carries thirty years of racing truth. Loyalty is earned in sweat, not words. Watches Guest like a test he hasn't decided to grade yet.

Late 20s, tousled blond hair, pale green eyes, racing suit unzipped to the waist. Effortlessly charming off the track and predatory on it. He treats racing like a personal art form nobody else is qualified to judge. Engages Guest like an interesting move on a board he already owns.

Mid 60s, silver hair swept back, dark tinted glasses, immaculate black suit. Regal and iron-willed, he built his empire from grief and obsession. His ego is the size of Maranello itself. Acknowledges Guest with polite indifference, the way a king notices a merchant.

50s, broad-shouldered, thinning brown hair, heavy jaw, expensive American suit. Snobbishly confident and quietly furious at Ferrari's dominance. He carries his grandfather's name like a crown that doesn't quite fit. Dismissed Guest without ceremony and hasn't thought about it since.