Her || Charles Leclerc

Bonus Chapter

04.05.2025

Matilde clicked send and watched the email disappear from her screen. It was nearly noon, and she had granted herself a break once the financial update was out of her hands. Luckily, she had an entire team who could handle the details, but they still needed her final word (even though she still had no idea what was going on. No, only joking). She leaned back in her chair, stretched her arms overhead until her spine popped, then stood and walked away.

The Ferrari HQ was quiet, the usual hum of keyboards and half-muted meetings fading as she passed the open-plan desks. Outside, the sun was warm, something she was finally getting used to. She squinted against the light as she crossed the parking lot toward the bike rack. Her bicycle was one of seven parked there. The light green city bike she had bought nearly fifteen years ago as a student in Copenhagen, was still delivering excellent service. Except today, the chain had slipped off, again, and was hanging awkwardly from the gear.

She unlocked the bike, placed her right foot on the pedal, and pushed off with her left, gliding forward like she was stepping through water. At the side entrance of the garage, she manoeuvred inside and found a free workspace to claim. What a luxury, having something like this available at work, and being allowed to use it. She grabbed her phone, opened YouTube, and searched for a tutorial on fixing a slipped chain. It wasn't her first time doing it, but it had been a while. Sure, there were plenty of people around who could fix it in seconds, but that wasn't the point.

She was avoiding work. And fixing her bike felt like a perfectly justifiable excuse.

She tied her hair up into a messy bun, flipped the bike upside down with a small grunt, and began collecting a few scattered tools while watching the video.

"Matilde," said a familiar voice.

She glanced over her shoulder. Galileo was lowering himself into one of the metal chairs nearby. His expression shifted as he took in the scene before him. "Galileo," she replied, casually.

"You do know we have actual mechanics who also could do that?"

"I'm aware."

"You also know they're literally right down the hall."

"Yup."

He crossed his arms, like he was about to launch into a lecture, but instead paused, eyeing the way she was crouched beside the bike, carefully inspecting the chain. "I will never understand the love people have for bicycles."

"Trust me, it's a love-hate relationship," she muttered. "I grew up with this thing. Cycling's just... part of life. And when I bike to work, I don't have to force myself to work out later. Win-win."

He rubbed a hand over his forehead. "Even after five years, you still manage to surprise me."

"Glad I'm keeping things interesting."

Silence settled between them, interrupted only by the clink of metal tools and the occasional Danish voice from the YouTube tutorial. Galileo watched her, the usual quick confidence in his chest giving way to a creeping wave of guilt. He had thought this through. Rehearsed it. But now, sitting here, he wasn't sure anymore. What if he was wrong? What if this was a mistake?

He didn't want to disappoint her. Not her. He respected Matilde too much for that, more than she probably knew.

"Ow," she hissed suddenly, pulling her hand back. "Fucking hell. Just when my nails were perfect, this fucking bullcrap happens." She sighed, examining the smudge of grease and broken nail. "Whatever."

The way she still biked to work, the fact she was down here trying to fix the damn thing herself... Galileo swallowed the tightness in his throat. He would never meet another boss like her. Not even close. Matilde was... special. One of one. If someone asked him to explain why, he wouldn't even know where to start.