"Rumbling, rumbling." The deafening roar of the engine in this high-rise and the brightly lit city was exceptionally harsh, attracting many vehicles on the road to lower their windows and pedestrians on the road to stop and watch.
The lanes in big cities were extremely congested during rush hour, and no matter how prestigious one's status might be, one still had to sit in his car and wait patiently at this time.
Natalie's cool black motorcycle stopped at the traffic light. She leaned lazily over the handlebars with her long legs stretched out on the ground, waiting for the green light. If she had time, she would even have a smoke.
The wind on autumn nights still carried a bit of a chill to it. She was wearing a white irregular sweater, jeans, and a black leather jacket, with a pair of black Doc Martens on her feet. Paired with a motorcycle, this outfit was both cool and stylish.
A Porsche parked on the right side lowered its windows, and a sleazy guy whistled at her, saying, "Hey beautiful, let's have a drink together. I like you a lot."
Natalie casually turned her head and gave him a bored look. She could tell he was a typical rich kid and coldly asked, "Have you grown up?"
The gray Koenigsegg sports car on the left witnessed the conversation between the two. The bodyguard and assistant, Jim Hawk, was also amazed by Natalie's cool appearance. "The girl who rides a motorcycle is really eye-catching and has a pretty cool personality."
Upon hearing this, the man sitting in the back seat reading the document looked up at Natalie, his eyes half-closed with a hint of puzzlement flashing in the depths of his eyes. He found the girl's profile looked very familiar.
Just as the traffic light turned green, Natalie dropped these words and started the engine. She glanced at the gray sports car behind her in the rearview mirror, which seemed familiar, but she didn't think too much about it. She never wasted time on these things. She was in a hurry to go back and see her grandfather. The motorcycle accelerated, and the speedometer shot up. Soon the black motorcycle disappeared into the congested lane.
Listening to the wind howling in her ears, her heart seemed to be chasing after freedom. The kind of freedom that was exchanged with life made her temporarily forget all the unhappiness hidden in her heart.
She loved wind and speed since she was young, so she fell in love with motorcycles. This black motorcycle was a birthday gift from her grandfather on her coming-of-age day, and she treasured it very much.
Meanwhile, the wealthy kid inside the Porsche was still grumbling and aspiring, "I'll have to find you and show you how much I can grow up."
Half an hour later.
The motorcycle stopped at an old mansion. Natalie took off her helmet and casually carried it inside.
"Miss, you're back." The person who spoke was a servant who followed Barron Foster. Since Barron started living alone, he only kept two attentive servants to care for himself and dismissed the others.
"Is Grandpa feeling better today? Has he eaten?"
"He did, a big bowl, and was in a good mood. He also told us that you are getting married. Miss, you are really getting married?" The servant was curious too. Yesterday, the young lady was still single, and Mr. Barron Foster was on a hunger strike due to a temper tantrum. Did she get married in just one day?
"Let's talk about this later. I'll see Grandpa first and then come down to eat."
As a doctor, she'd seen death countless times, but when it came to her loved ones, she was definitely biased. It was a different feeling.
She stood outside the door to compose herself, then opened the door to the bedroom and said, "Oh, Grandpa, you're reading the newspaper."
Barron Foster looked up weakly at her and said, "Show me the marriage license."
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