Falling In Love With You

Chapter4

Sera

The air in the back of the town car was filtered, chilled, and smelled faintly of expensive leather, but I still felt like I was suffocating. I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, watching the city blur into streaks of neon and gray.

"Everything alright, Miss McBurry?" my driver, Arthur, asked, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. He’s been with the family for years; he’s the only one who can spot the cracks in my mask before they even form.

"Just a long day, Arthur," I replied, my voice sounding thin even to my own ears.

"The city is restless tonight," he noted, slowing down as we approached a red light in a neighborhood that definitely wasn't on my usual route. "Construction on 5th has us taking the long way through the Lower East."

I looked out at the sidewalk. It was a world away from the sterile glass of my office. People were crowded onto stoops, laughing, smoking, and wearing clothes that looked lived-in and real. There was an energy here—a raw, pulsing heat that made my heart beat a little faster against my ribs.

Suddenly, the roar of an engine cut through the quiet hum of the car. I looked to my right. A motorcycle had pulled up beside us, the rider draped in a heavy leather jacket that looked like it had seen a thousand miles.

I couldn't see her face behind the dark visor of the helmet, but I could see her hands. They were gripped tight around the handles, her knuckles covered in tattoos that spelled out a name I couldn't quite read from this distance. There was something about the way she sat on that bike—dominant, steady, completely unbothered by the chaos of the street around her.

I found myself staring. I couldn't help it. She looked so free. No silk blouses, no high-stakes meetings, no men like Elias breathing down her neck and expecting her to smile. She just looked like... herself.

I felt a sudden, sharp pang of envy. I wondered what it would feel like to put on a jacket like that and just drive until the skyscrapers disappeared. To be someone who didn't care about quarterly projections or the "McBurry reputation."

The rider turned her head slightly, her visor catching the light of the streetlamp. For a split second, I felt like she was looking right through the tinted glass at me. My breath hitched in my throat, a strange flutter starting in my stomach. It was ridiculous. I didn't even know who she was.

Then, the light changed.

With a brutal twist of the throttle, she was gone, weaving through traffic and disappearing into the shadows of the next block. I watched the red glow of her taillight until it vanished.

"Miss McBurry?" Arthur called out gently. "We're here."

I looked up. We were parked in front of my apartment building—a fortress of limestone and security guards.

"Thank you, Arthur," I said, forced into my "Classy Girl" persona once again.

I stepped out of the car, the humidity of the night clinging to my skin. As I walked toward the lobby, the click of my heels felt louder and more annoying than usual. I walked into the elevator, pressed the button for the penthouse, and watched the doors slide shut, locking me back into my golden cage.

But as the elevator rose, my mind stayed down there, on that street corner, wondering about the girl with the inked knuckles and the roaring engine.