Is The Lightning McQueen Logo Trademarked By Disney?

Three days into the silent treatment, Derrick—my fiancé and CEO—greenlit his assistant's pitch for a self-driving road trip. He expected me to flip, like always. I didn't. A month later, he came back and saw it—I wasn't the same. He backed Molly, stole my project, and thought I'd explode. I didn't. I just helped her draft the proposal. He trashed everything I built, just so she could snag her year-end bonus. I didn't fight back. Took the blame, took the hit. Molly was all smug. "See? Told you. You can't go at Yara head-on. Give her the silent treatment—she folds. She's scared of losing you. That's why she's playing nice." Derrick ate it up. Called her smart. Then he pulled me aside—offered a raise, a promotion, even a fancy wedding. First time he'd ever brought it up. But he missed one detail: he'd already signed off on my resignation while he was off playing road trip king. And I'd already dumped him. That was it. Clean cut. Nothing left.

After my parents died in a car crash, my cousin stole the compensation money and moved overseas to start a business. My aunt begged me on her knees not to call the police. Then, she locked me in a dark basement for three months. I was close to breaking down and ending my life when Julien Lawson, the neighbor’s son, broke down the basement door and saved me. “Joyce, what they did is unforgivable! They stole the compensation money for your parents’ deaths. You were going to use it to open your own studio! “Marry me. I’ll protect you.” He was the only person who cared about me after my parents died. I was so grateful that I married him and had his child. I worked three jobs during the day to help support the orphanage that Julien ran. At night, I took care of our child and created design sketches. But no matter how hard I tried, none of my work was ever accepted. Even though Julien told me to keep at it, I felt discouraged and thought of giving up on my design career to focus on our family. One day, our child was sick. I went to take over the shift from Julien when I overheard him talking to my aunt on the stairs. “Julien, it’s been ten years. Joyce’s designs are getting better and better. She even passed the first round of the national competition. Are you really not going to tell her about the next round?” my aunt asked. Her voice trembled. Julien said coldly, “For years, I’ve been sending Joyce’s design sketches to Mindy to copy and enter in the competitions or publish as her own. “To help Mindy’s career, I can’t let Joyce move on to the next round. “Joyce has talent. If people notice her, she’ll be a threat to Mindy’s career!”

When Dexter Welch, a security guard who works in the residential area, sees me driving my pink Toyota Corolla everywhere, he's very certain that I'm a sugar baby who's being backed by her own sugar daddy. On the first day, I see one word getting carved into the car hood. It says "bitch". I merely give the hood a wipedown without uttering a word. Later on, I swap out the current SD card of my dashcam to an SD card that has a 512 GB memory. On the second day, my car windows get smashed in. When I go over to the property management office to check the security footage, the front desk agent tells me that the security camera overseeing my car "happens" to be broken. Dexter leans against the desk with a grin on his face. "If that car of yours is ruined, then so be it. Tell your sugar daddy to buy you another one." I crouch down and take a picture of the damage. Then, I save it into a folder called "evidence" in my phone. On the third day, two of my tires have gone flat. When I bend down to pick up a spare tire, Dexter hugs me from behind all of a sudden. He murmurs into my ear, "What's so good about sleeping with an old codger? Why don't you date me instead? I'm young and strong—" That's when I grab a wrench and smash it right into his arm. As Dexter nurses his injured arm, he glares at me. "How dare you lay a finger on me! Go ahead and lodge a report, then! My uncle's the property manager here! What can you do about me, hmm?" I silently note down Dexter's work ID without saying anything. On the fourth day, I drive another pink car back to the apartment. As soon as Dexter notices the flash of pink in its usual parking slot, he smiles as he exits the guardhouse. Then, he pulls out a key from his pocket and scratches my car with all his strength. An older gentleman who happens to be walking his dog nearby freezes in his tracks. He sounds so startled that his voice actually cracks. "Have you gone nuts? Do you know the model of the car you've just scratched? That's a top-tier Rolls-Royce!"

Clara Reynolds’ life falls apart the night she catches her boyfriend cheating. Humiliated and heartbroken, she makes a reckless choice of kissing a stranger in a semi-public place, desperate to feel wanted again. She doesn’t know he’s famous and dangerous. And she certainly didn't know he was Matteo Devereaux, the billionaire car racer and owner of the powerful Devereaux Racing Franchise. Matteo humiliates her publicly and walks away, leaving Clara to deal with the shame alone. She thinks she’ll never see him again, until her PR firm lands the biggest deal of its career, and she’s assigned as the personal PR manager to none other than Matteo Devereaux. Forced to work closely with the man who shattered her pride, Clara finds herself drawn into Matteo’s cold, controlled world of power, and secrets. As tension turns into undeniable desire, buried truths begin to surface, about his past, his injuries, and the crash that changed everything. But love in Matteo’s world comes with risks. One wrong move could cost him his career. One secret could destroy them both. Will Clara survive loving a man who lives at lethal speed? What happens when revenge turns into jealousy, and jealousy into love? And what if the man she falls for forgets her forever? Dive into this gripping billionaire sports romance filled with passion, rivalry, betrayal, and secrets, and discover whether love can outrun fate.

On the one-year anniversary of the company's public listing, my wife, Susan Lynn, publicly announced that she was gifting a supercar worth millions of dollars to her childhood friend, Charles Baker. Charles, with his arm around her shoulder, raised his glass and said, "Thank you, Susan. Here's a toast to our friendship!" I let out a derisive laugh and walked away. Susan, feeling upset, chased after me, shouting, "Angus, what's your problem? What's wrong with me giving the top salesperson a supercar? You're just a useless waste of space, and you still dare to throw a tantrum!"

In the third year of Lyra Hawthorne's engagement to Ryder Calloway, he found himself a beautiful grid girl named Nova Voss abroad. The day before Valentine's Day, he deliberately brought Nova to see Lyra and demanded to break off the engagement. "Nova and I share the same interests. A simp like you will never understand the thrill of racing." Lyra refused to accept it and asked, "Does it have to be today?" He laughed. "Do you need to check the calendar to call off an engagement?" She nodded and didn't argue any further. A month later, she entered the same race he did. What he didn't know was that she had understood the thrill of racing long before he ever did. Later, she got married on his birthday. With reddened eyes, he asked, "Does it have to be today?" She smiled as well. "Of course. You do need to pick an auspicious day for a wedding."