When Alessandro Moretti first pulled up to the valet outside the Grand Hotel Tremezzo on Lake Como, the parking staff didn't flock to the guest in the Bentley Flying Spur or the Rolls-Royce Cullinan idling just a few meters away. Their eyes were locked on something altogether wilder — something fresher, lower, and humming with a strange, electric-tinged growl. It was the Lamborghini Temerario, and it was about to rewrite the rules of what a mid-tier supercar could be.
Moretti, a Milanese tech entrepreneur and avid collector of Italian exotic cars, had taken delivery of his Temerario just two weeks earlier. He had already clocked 1,000 kilometers between weekend escapes to the Dolomites and breezy drives along Ligurian coastal roads. But pulling up to the hotel that day, he noticed something unusual. It wasn’t just admiration. It was curiosity — the kind that comes with witnessing a paradigm shift.
The Temerario isn’t merely a Huracán replacement. It’s a statement of intent. Lamborghini, once known for the outrageous, fire-breathing V10s that turned heads for their sheer drama, has pivoted — but not away from excitement. Instead, the Temerario ushers in a new type of thrill: sharper, smarter, and charged with electrons.
From the moment you slide behind the wheel, the car feels different. The cockpit, still full of the spacecraft-like switchgear Lamborghini fans adore, feels slightly more ergonomic, slightly more refined. There’s more room to breathe — a clear nod to the brand’s ambitions to widen its customer appeal without losing its identity. The familiar fighter-jet fantasy remains, but now it’s wrapped in a layer of usability that wasn’t quite there before.
Push the starter button and the world doesn’t erupt into noise. In fact, it doesn’t erupt at all. The Temerario whispers to life, gliding off silently in EV mode, like a luxury plug-in sports coupe rather than an angry bull. It’s a moment that catches even seasoned Lamborghini drivers off guard. This is Sant’Agata in a tuxedo — refined but ready to rip it off when the mood strikes.
And that mood strikes fast.
Underneath its sculpted carbon-fiber body panels, the Temerario hides a radically re-engineered heart. Gone is the naturally aspirated V10. In its place: a high-revving V8 mated to a tri-motor electric drivetrain, delivering not just power but agility and innovation. It’s an Italian exotic car for a world that wants both environmental responsibility and unbridled excitement — a true high-performance hybrid car that doesn’t compromise.
But raw figures can’t capture the magic. It’s in the way the Temerario dances through mountain switchbacks, how it feels like it’s reading your thoughts through the steering wheel. The rear-axle electric torque vectoring doesn’t just help you stay planted — it makes you feel like a driving god, even at modest speeds. Alessandro described it best after a stint through Passo dello Stelvio: “It doesn’t punish you for being human. It flatters you. It wants you to smile.”
That’s the key shift in philosophy. While the Revuelto aims for supremacy, the Temerario aims for joy. It’s not just about lap times anymore. Lamborghini has finally admitted what owners have long suspected — that most of these machines live on winding roads and in city streets, not racetracks. And rather than fight that truth, the company embraced it.
Take the day Moretti met his childhood friend Matteo, now a New York-based architect, at the rooftop of the Bulgari Hotel in Milan. Matteo hadn’t seen a Lamborghini up close in years, let alone one like this. As they descended the elevator to the car park, he quipped, “So, what’s this one powered by? Jet fuel and ego?” But the moment he sat in the passenger seat, greeted by Alcantara seats and the soft whir of electric propulsion, his tone changed. “It’s like a time machine,” he said, “but one that knows how to whisper.”
On the A4 motorway heading toward Lake Garda, the Temerario offered more than just speed. In EV mode, it glided through traffic like a high-end electric GT. But switch modes — using that theatrical center-console toggle — and the car transforms. The V8 fires with the urgency of a gunshot. Power pours on in clean, relentless waves. And the symphony that emerges from the tailpipes is no longer just mechanical — it’s a harmonized blend of combustion and electric thrust, precise and primal at once.
This isn’t electrification as a compromise. It’s a performance enabler.
And yet, there’s more to the story than technology. Because Lamborghini didn’t just build a better hybrid supercar. It built a more livable one. There’s finally usable cargo space, enough for two weekend bags and — yes — even a suit carrier. The ride, while still taut, won’t rattle your teeth. There’s even improved smartphone integration, something that may sound trivial until you try navigating Como’s winding alleys without Apple CarPlay.
These details matter. They’re what make the Temerario more than just a fast machine. They make it a luxury sports car designed not just to be admired but to be used. Daily, joyfully, and without fear of judgment from eco-conscious onlookers.
That’s an important point in today’s world of evolving automotive values. Moretti, who’s also on the advisory board of a Milan-based sustainability fund, said he was initially skeptical of the hybrid powertrain. But now? “I drive it to investor meetings,” he told me, “and people ask me about emissions and EV credits before horsepower. It’s no longer a contradiction to own a Lamborghini and support green investment.”
It’s a fascinating cultural shift. Supercar ownership was once a symbol of pure indulgence — the growl, the thirst, the recklessness. But today’s affluent buyers, particularly younger ones, expect their vehicles to tell a more nuanced story. One of technological leadership, forward thinking, and yes, environmental mindfulness — without sacrificing thrill. The Temerario delivers just that.
This change is reflected not only in the vehicle itself but in the people buying it. In cities like London, Los Angeles, and Zurich, Lamborghini’s showrooms are seeing a younger, more tech-savvy clientele. Buyers who made their fortunes not in oil or property but in crypto, software, and biotech. These are individuals who expect seamless user experience and cutting-edge innovation. And they’re finding it in the Temerario.
One London-based venture capitalist I spoke with, who had recently traded his McLaren Artura for the Temerario, said the decision came down to emotional resonance. “The McLaren was technically brilliant,” he said, “but the Lamborghini has soul. It made me feel like a kid again. And the fact that it can sneak through Chelsea in EV mode without waking the neighbors? That’s just brilliant.”
Perhaps that’s the true genius of this car. It no longer screams for attention — unless you want it to. It’s as versatile in its personality as it is in its power delivery. It can be subtle, or savage. Green, or gloriously loud. A high-end plug-in supercar that adapts to the driver, not the other way around.
It’s also — and this shouldn’t be glossed over — drop-dead gorgeous. The proportions are sharp and aggressive, but there’s a maturity to the lines, a sculptural confidence that nods to Lamborghini’s heritage while signaling its future. Even in a city like Paris, where style is currency, the Temerario turns heads without trying too hard. It’s become a fashion statement — the kind that doesn’t need logos or slogans.
That duality — flamboyant yet refined, wild yet intelligent — is what makes the Lamborghini Temerario such a compelling evolution. It respects its lineage while completely rethinking what a junior supercar should be in the 21st century. And in doing so, it invites a new kind of relationship between driver and machine. One that’s built not just on adrenaline, but on trust, surprise, and even a touch of empathy.
On his return from the Dolomites last month, Alessandro pulled into a remote vineyard just outside Verona. The owner, an old family friend, wandered over to admire the car. He touched the bonnet reverently, smiled, and said, “This looks like a Lamborghini from the future.” Alessandro replied, “It is. But it still makes me feel like I’m 25.”
And maybe that’s the ultimate magic of the Temerario. Not that it’s fast, or smart, or even electrified. But that it captures something we didn’t realize we were missing — a sense of rebellious joy, a desire to play. A reminder that luxury doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful, and that even in a world moving toward silence and sustainability, there’s still room for passion.
🚗🔥💡