Maserati Levante

It starts with a bark — a quick, throaty flare from the exhaust as the twin-turbo V6 wakes up, Ferrari's fingerprints all over that note. Then it settles, and settles is the word: idle drops to a low, patient murmur, the kind of sound that tells you this SUV was never meant to shout for attention. Inside, the cabin goes quiet enough that Poltrona Frau leather and brushed aluminum trim do the talking instead.

The Levante drives the way it sounds — composed, unhurried, with power that arrives smoothly rather than announcing itself. Point it down a mountain road and the chassis tightens up, air suspension dropping, steering weighting nicely in your hands, and suddenly the brooding grand tourer underneath shows itself.

Point it toward a weekend away instead, and the boot swallows luggage for four without complaint, rear seats folding flat if you need more.

Automatic gearbox, petrol power, trident on the nose — this is Maserati's answer to the question nobody else in Modena or Sant'Agata bothered asking: what if a family SUV could still feel handmade? Understated on the outside, tailored within an inch of its life inside. It doesn't need to raise its voice to be heard.