Specifications
About This Car
Some cars beg to be noticed. The DB12 doesn't bother — it just moves quicker than everything around it, and says nothing about it
The person who books the DB12 isn't chasing attention. They've usually already had it, and moved past needing it. What they want is a car that behaves in traffic, reads as quietly done rather than loudly bought, and answers instantly the moment the road opens up. That's the entire brief this car was built against.
Under the long bonnet sits a 4.0-litre twin-turbo V8, tuned with the kind of restraint that makes serious horsepower feel like a private matter between you and the throttle. The automatic transmission is calibrated to disappear — shifts land measured, almost polite, right up until you ask for more and the car's composure tightens into something taut and focused. Two seats, no back-row compromise, no apology for it.
This is a car for drivers who rate poise above spectacle — who want the violence of a proper supercar sitting just under the surface, available on demand, never on display. Petrol-fed, automatic, unmistakably British in temperament even at full throttle. Book it for a weekend where how you arrive matters more than where you're going.