It was supposed to be a quiet morning.

Just a quick Uber ride across the city to the biggest interview of her life. After three months of portfolio revisions, sleepless nights, and caffeine-fueled sketching marathons, Riley Torres was finally getting a shot at a junior designer position at Kline Creative—a firm so fancy its website practically smelled like money.

She’d ironed her best blazer twice, packed her laptop, and even printed her résumé on paper that looked like it had self-esteem. Everything was going fine—until the car pulled up.

It wasn’t what she expected. Sleek, black, and spotless. Definitely not the usual rideshare with gum wrappers on the floor and someone’s perfume lingering. She hesitated before the window rolled down.

“Riley?” the driver asked. His voice was calm, low, too professional.

“Yeah,” she said, checking the plate just to be sure. “That’s me.”

He nodded once. “Seatbelt.”

That was it. No small talk. No “good morning.” Just one word, said like an order.

Riley blinked but slid in anyway. The car smelled faintly of cedar and cold metal. She buckled up, glancing at him through the mirror. Square jaw, steady eyes, posture like a soldier.

Okay, cool. My driver’s either ex–military or allergic to friendliness.

Silence stretched on. Not the comfortable kind—more like the type that made you aware of your own breathing.

Her brain filled the quiet automatically.

Maybe he’s shy. Or maybe he’s silently regretting becoming an Uber driver. Or maybe—

A faint crackle interrupted her thoughts. A woman’s voice came through his earpiece, calm and composed: “Clear for two blocks. Keep moving.”

Riley froze. Clear? Clear from what? Traffic? Zombies? A raccoon riot?

The driver—Kade, according to the app—didn’t react. Just shifted lanes, his gaze flicking to the side mirror.

Then the world exploded.

Three sharp pop-pop-pops shattered the quiet. The rear windshield blew apart in a glittering burst of glass. Riley’s scream came out before her brain caught up.

“What the—are those BULLETS?!”

Kade slammed the gearshift. Tires screeched, the car lunged forward. The hum of the city was gone, replaced by chaos. "Where are they coming from Mia?"

“Gunfire,” the woman’s voice—Mia—said smoothly in his ear. “Two targets, black sedan, left flank.”

Riley blinked in disbelief.

Mia? Targets? What kind of Uber has a flank?!

Kade’s tone stayed calm, almost too calm. “Copy. Evading.”

“Evading?!” she yelled, clutching the seatbelt like it was holy. “What are we doing—Fast & Furious: Freelance Edition?”

“Get down,” Kade ordered.

“Down where? There’s literally nowhere to go! This isn’t a tank—it’s a Civic!”

Another burst of shots hit the trunk. Kade swerved hard, Riley’s shoulder slammed into the door. Her heart pounded like a jackhammer.

He drove like he’d done this before—precision, zero panic. The man didn’t even blink.

Riley’s brain, however, was melting.

Oh my God, my first job interview and I’m going to die in an Uber with RoboCop.

She peeked up. A dark car was gaining fast behind them, headlights flaring.

“Hold tight,” Kade said.

“I am! I’m basically part of the seat now!”

He jerked the wheel right, cutting into a narrow alley. The pursuing car overshot the turn, tires screeching in protest. Kade braked hard, stopping in a pocket of silence thick with tension and exhaust.

Riley’s pulse was still racing. Her palms were slick, her blazer now half-wrinkled beyond repair.

Kade finally looked at her. “Are you hurt?”

She blinked at him, wide-eyed. “Am I—what? I was almost turned into a mood board for trauma!”

He didn’t react. Just scanned the mirrors. “We’re safe. For now.”

“For now?” she echoed, voice rising. “Love that. So reassuring.”

Mia’s voice returned through the earpiece, smooth as ever. “Kade, extraction point three blocks north. You’ll have to move fast—backup’s inbound.”

Riley stared at him. “Extraction? Backup? You people are not from Uber, are you?”

He hesitated, just a second too long. “Not exactly.”

Riley exhaled, dazed, still clutching her bag like it might double as a parachute. “Right. Okay. Cool. I’ll just… make a mental note to give you five stars for ‘Didn’t Die, Somehow’.”