Rewriting My Heart's Fate (Ethan and Evelyn) novel Chapter 534

I walked over to the shop's owner and asked, "How much is that bike?"

The owner was a middle-aged man with a way for words. At first glance, he immediately knew that I wasn't the type of person he would find trouble with.

With a respectful smile, he said, "You have good taste. This is the best model we have here. The V4 is one of the best bikes in the world. Not only is it powerful, but it's also highly flexible in its controls. You'll have a good time track-racing or even just biking in the streets."

He talked non-stop, which annoyed me tremendously.

"I asked you for the price. Stop blabbering," I spat.

"Oh, okay." The shop owner beamed and told me the price.

I furrowed my brow at the numbers, but I wasn't going to negotiate with him.

The execution of my plan had reached a critical juncture, so that bit of money didn't matter. I placed the stack of cash I prepared on the table with a heavy thud.

"It's a deal," I said. "I have two conditions, though."

The shop owner's eyes gleamed with delight at the sight of the cash. "What is it?"

I told him, "First, this bike belongs to me right away. I don't want to go through any procedures at all. Second, you can't tell anyone about this. Pretend like it never happened."

Staring at him with an icy glare, I warned, "You'll pay dearly if I find out that you make a slip of the tongue."

The shop owner nodded eagerly with a gleeful smile. "Don't you worry. My lips are sealed. What you do with this bike has nothing to do with me. You have my word that I'll leave no trace of your purchase."

Satisfied, I nodded, grabbed the keys from his extended hand, and left without sparing him a second glance.

I killed the engine and parked the bike, dismounting it. The sound of my boots hitting the ground echoed in the area. Clad in a sleek, black, form-fitting suit made entirely of leather, I exuded an air of authority.

I didn't remove my helmet. The visor covered most of my face, leaving only my chin visible.

I walked confidently toward the factory. Pushing open the door, a musty odor assaulted my senses. Everywhere I looked, there were decaying, broken-down machines. They were rusty, and covered with cobwebs.

From a corner, the faint sounds of rats scurrying about reached my ears. It was nauseating and repulsive.

"Ms. Wiley, you're here," said a voice from the shadow. It belonged to a woman.

Narrowing my eyes, I turned my head toward the sound.