Chapter 29 – Bianca, the Woman Who Thrives on Danger
Bianca had always been the kind of woman who lived for a thrill.
You could tell just by the way she carried herself — confident, daring, never content with routine.
She wasn't reckless; she simply needed that pulse of danger to feel alive.
And William, of course, knew exactly how to appeal to that.
"Wow… you're into that kind of guy?" one of her colleagues leaned over as Bianca checked her phone.
Through the hospital window, they could see William outside — black leather jacket, engine idling, the picture of a street racer from a bad movie.
Bianca's colleague whistled low. "Looks like trouble — the fast kind."
Bianca didn't bother to hide her grin. "Maybe I like trouble."
"Hold up," the woman said, half-joking. "How old is that boy? Bianca, don't tell me you've gone full cougar on us!"
Bianca's face flushed pink. "Excuse me! I'm barely thirty. Life is just getting started."
"Yeah, sure," her colleague shot back. "And what is he, a fertilized egg? Starting life together, huh?"
Bianca rolled her eyes dramatically. "I'm not talking to you anymore. It's my lunch break — I'm going to see what he wants."
She grabbed her coat and practically bolted for the exit, her friend laughing behind her.
---
Outside the hospital, William sat astride his BMW S1000RR, the engine low and purring. His helmet hung casually from the mirror.
When Bianca stepped out, heads turned immediately. She was one of the hospital's newest doctors — smart, beautiful, confident — and now she was walking straight toward a man who looked like he belonged in a rock band or a police report.
"Hey, William," she called out, a half-smile tugging at her lips. "What brings you here?"
William's eyes flicked over her white coat, her composure. Without a word, he reached out and slid an arm around her waist.
"Skip your shift this afternoon," he said quietly, his voice smooth but commanding.
Bianca blinked. "What—? Are you serious?"
Her rational side screamed no. But then she caught sight of the motorcycle's gleaming frame, the sun glinting off the chrome, the way William looked at her — calm, certain, utterly unafraid.
Her pulse quickened.
She hadn't realized how much she missed that feeling — of breaking the rules, of not being the perfect doctor, the perfect woman.
"…What are we skipping work for?" she asked, her tone more playful than suspicious.
William didn't answer. He just tilted his head. "You coming or not?"
Bianca hesitated for all of three seconds before smiling, taking the helmet from his hand, and strapping it on.
"Fine," she said, her voice muffled through the visor. "But if I lose my job, you're paying my rent."
William chuckled. "Deal."
Bianca swung onto the bike behind him, her hands instinctively wrapping around his waist.
Then—
VROOOOM!
The Scorpion exhaust roared to life, echoing down the street.
Nurses and orderlies at the hospital entrance turned to look, catching one last glimpse of the beautiful young doctor riding off with the leather-clad stranger — her laughter swallowed by the engine's snarl.
And for the first time in a long time, Bianca felt alive.
Everyone outside the hospital watched, wide-eyed, as Dr. Bianca — the calm, elegant, well-behaved new doctor — hopped onto the back of a roaring motorcycle and sped off with a leather-clad street racer.
For a few seconds, nobody spoke.
Then someone muttered, "No way… Bianca? That Bianca?"
Another added, "Guess the quiet ones really are the wildest."
---
Out on the road, the engine's roar drowned out everything else.
The BMW S1000RR sliced through the streets like a bullet.
Technically, WRC skills were meant for rally cars, not bikes — but precision, balance, and control translated easily between four wheels and two.
William's right hand stayed glued to the throttle, ignoring every traffic law in the book. The city blurred by — lights, horns, wind — a streak of motion and chaos.
The raw pull of the machine pressed Bianca's body tight against his back.
Her heart raced. Her breath hitched.
She didn't even realize she'd been holding it until the edges of her vision started to darken.
But instead of fear… it was exhilaration.
Her pulse thundered in her ears. Her skin prickled. It felt like flying — or falling — and she couldn't tell the difference.
By the time William slowed down, they were at the edge of an old railway crossing.
The winter air bit sharp and cold as they pulled off their helmets.
Bianca bent over, panting for breath, laughing between gasps. "You're insane," she said — and then grabbed him by the collar and kissed him.
William didn't resist. He kissed her back, his hands steady on her waist, letting her burn through the adrenaline.
After a moment, he pulled away slightly, studying her face.
"Bianca," he said quietly, "do you want to try something even more exciting?"
Bianca blinked. "What do you mean?"
William nodded toward the tracks. "This line's still active. Next train passes in about… thirty-five minutes."
Her smile faltered. "You're not serious."
He didn't answer — just looked at her, calm and unreadable.
Bianca's heart pounded again, for a different reason this time.
Every rational thought screamed don't you dare. But deep down, that same reckless spark — the one that made her say yes to the ride — flared up again.
Thirty minutes later, both of them were lying flat across the steel rails, side by side.
The world trembled. The ground vibrated beneath them.
The distant hum of an approaching train grew into a rumble.
Bianca straddled William's waist, half-laughing, half-breathless. "Oh my god, I can feel it! The tracks are shaking! What are we doing!?"
Her voice was high, electric — not terrified, but thrilled.
She could see the headlight now, a burning eye rushing toward them.
"William! It's coming! Stop! Get up!" she shouted, tugging at him.
William didn't move. Not yet. His expression didn't change.
Five meters.
Four.
Three—
With a blur of motion, he rolled them both off the track, just as the train thundered past, screaming by in a flash of metal and air.
Bianca lay on the frozen ground, eyes wide, chest heaving, staring up at the sky.
Her entire body trembled.
Then she started laughing — a raw, breathless sound somewhere between relief and ecstasy.
"Holy— holy hell!" she gasped. "That was insane! Completely insane!"
William stood, brushing off his jacket, looking down at her with that same half-smile.
"So," he asked softly, "did you like it?"
Bianca rolled her eyes, still catching her breath. "I can't even move. Help me up, you lunatic."
He offered his hand; she took it, laughing again.
---
After that night, things settled into a strange rhythm.
William's days became a rotation of calm and chaos:
– taking Bianca on dangerous midnight rides,
– "studying anatomy" with Fiona under the pretense of tutoring,
– teaching Lip and Ian how to mine and trade Bitcoin,
– and occasionally meeting Amanda to test her control issues.
The drugs were sold. The money was flowing. The weapons stayed stashed away — just in case.
Everything was running exactly as he wanted.
Until one afternoon, just as class ended, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
He glanced at the screen — Fiona.
He picked up lazily. "Yeah? What's up?"
On the other end, her voice was tight, breathless, trembling with something between fear and desperation.
"William… I need you."