Farewell to the Maserati V8: Last drive in 207mph Ghibli

And it hits all the right notes as you slip inside via its seductive frameless doors, with Terracotta leather unique to the Ultima perfectly flourished by long, metallic gearshift paddles and analogue instruments.

Nestle into the seat and a pair of snarling bonnet vents gaze right at you, piercing the sculptured Blu Royale bodywork to remind you of the boisterous muscle hidden beneath the business attire.

While I shan't be troubling its headline top speed, even slight tasters of its acceleration reveal a car barely able to contain its own potency. The challenge to building and sustaining speed even in generously warm conditions is simply getting traction.

With the ESC on, power delivery is often truncated as the systems stammer. Unshackle it-'on' and 'off are your only options - and the rear tyres can scrabble messily. It's a vignette of the car's wider character, its key controls immediately blunter than contemporary sports saloons from M division or AMG.

The steering is relatively slow and lends the car a languid feel on first acquaintance. It falls easily into understeer on the tricky turns of the SP26 and, if you're too eager to get back on the throttle, its rear axle can arc around quickly with seemingly little in the way of progression.

So you plan each corner well before you enter it, carefully managing both mass and traction to keep progress smooth rather than scrappy.

Yet with familiarity and more heat in the tyres, you learn to embrace such unabashed character. Quite simply, there's more to do at road speeds than any car you could fairly declare a rival, and with my glass half full, that means a rare degree of involvement that's worth celebrating.

Confidence is hard won, mind, and it does feel like a halfway-house Sport mode for the ESC could be the making of this car. When the engine has Ferrari expertise woven through it, it seems a shame the firm's ferociously clever stability systems couldn't come along for the ride.

I don't think you would use this as an everyday car. It's rare and wildly expensive in Ultima form and experience suggests it will be a handful in the middle of a biting British winter.

Yet it's placid as you rumble through town, eschewing the brutal ride quality of a modern BMW M3. It's here the engine feels its most superstar too. The soundtrack is more enchanting for those outside the car than in, though, and you would be wise to crank the windows down a few inches when there's a rock face or brick wall to amplify it.

This isn't a glorious old atmo Maser V8, where you savour the revs and hang onto gears. Its turbos boost with enough proficiency to rip you from 2000 to 7000rpm in the blink of an eye.

And yet its artful paddles still play a crucial role. On faster roads, there's joy to be had from selecting manual mode and keeping the impressive ZF gearbox in its higher gears, teasing the throttle just enough to avoid kickdown interrupting the rich, bassy rumble. Traction untroubled.

Some of Maserati's most dazzling creations from the legendary 250F racer to the latest MC20 - have called upon only six cylinders.

Indeed, the MC20's Nettuno V6, which also stars in the latest Granturismo, is more than exciting enough to dry any tears today.

But the Ghibli badge launched in the '60s with a V8 perched up front and of a similar capacity certainly lends its modern-day equivalent some raffish charm, however ludicrous a £160k price looks when Stellantis cousin Alfa Romeo will sell you a Giulia Quadrifoglio for half that.

This Ultima isn't merely a sepia-hued glance at the sunset of big-capacity engines either. Its existence provides an unexpected glance at Maserati's future. Its exclusive spec - at least half the justification for a circa-£50k jump in price - has been penned by the company's blossoming Fuoriserie division.

Limited to 103 units in tribute to the Tipo 103 model code of the 5000 GT, the Ultima is a Fuoriserie special series car just like the recently unveiled Icona and Leggenda editions of the MC20.

But the department - "its own little company within the company", in the words of Fuoriserie director Davide Baldini - is about so much more. For many customers, it's an essential helping hand in envisaging a bold spec through its 'Curated' collection of colours and trims.

For those with bigger ideas and bank balances, Bespoke offers the chance to spend a year (or more) crafting a unique Maserati on a scale that calls for the wider R&D and design teams. Either process adds a key slice of profit margin to receipts rung through the Maserati till.

"Fuoriserie is the top of the top," says Baldini. "It elevates perception of the brand and experience. The customer doesn't just give us a configuration and get the car a few months later. We work together constantly to check every single component matches their idea. We have very demanding customers, which is exactly what we want for this kind of collaboration. Each Bespoke car is an adventure."

The most adventurous so far is the MC20 Cielo Opera d'Arte, an extravagant, multicoloured supercar whose intricate design is pure paint no decals or stickers. Its creation took two years, and while the cost of Fuoriserie projects is naturally kept shtum, it's easy to assume the most specialist examples soar into seven figures.

Maserati made 100 Bespoke cars last year, though Baldini's team has a hand in around 10% of Maserati sales, a number that will climb with the completion of a new paint atelier at its Modena HQ.