INSEPARABLE

Chapter 41

With a swift motion, I firmly press on the brake pedal, bringing my car to a sudden halt. As the vehicle comes to a stop, I swiftly open the door and step out, ready to confront them.

In a surprising turn of events, they also slow down, but the other man, armed with a gun, widens his eyes for a moment before resuming his relentless shooting. Bullets whiz past me, but I pay them no mind, refusing to make any effort to dodge. He's lucky if he manages to hit me.

Confidently, I lock eyes with the bald man behind the wheel as I stride purposefully towards their approaching car. Their attempts to intimidate me only fuel my determination. With each step, I ready my own gun, my grip firm and steady, prepared to meet them halfway.

Maintaining a steady and focused gaze, I lock eyes with the man in the passenger seat who peeks his head out of the car window, brandishing a gun.

"Sorry, not sorry. You picked the worst possible moment," I utter calmly, devoid of any emotion, as I raise my own weapon. With precision, my right eye narrows as I aim directly at him.

I observe the panic that washes over his face, yet he continues to fire at me relentlessly.

What's his problem? Is he blind or just a complete idiot? Maybe next time, they should bring someone who actually knows how to handle a gun. This guy can't even hit the broad side of a barn, let alone land a single shot on me.

Without a moment's hesitation, I firmly squeeze the trigger, releasing a solitary bullet that finds its mark with unparalleled precision. The silenced shot glides through the air, devoid of any audible disturbance, as the bullet traverses the atmosphere, striking the man directly in his hand, compelling him to relinquish his grip on the firearm.

I hear his anguished cry as he retreats his head into the car.

With a mere distance of approximately 10 meters between us, I redirect my focus towards the bald driver.

Narrowing my eyes, I take aim at his chest. Despite his attempt to accelerate, perhaps with the intention of ramming into me, my reflexes prove too swift. In the blink of an eye, a matter of mere seconds after pulling the trigger, the bullet pierces through the windshield, finding its mark in his chest. The impact causes him to lose control of the vehicle, his grip on the steering wheel faltering.

I witness the crimson spray of his blood, mingling with the fragments of glass that now litter the car's interior.

In one swift motion, I take aim and fire at both of the front tires. The bullets find their mark with precision, puncturing the rubber with a resounding pop. As the air escapes from the tires, the car's momentum is abruptly halted, bringing it to a screeching halt just a few inches away from colliding with me.

The scent of burnt rubber fills the air, mingling with the tension that hangs thickly around us. The vehicle comes to a sudden stop, its forward motion arrested by the deflated tires. The man in the passenger seat desperately tries to regain control of the car, his hands gripping the steering wheel with a mixture of panic and determination. Meanwhile, the bald driver appears to have lost consciousness, slumped over the wheel, his chest still bearing the mark of the bullet that struck him.

The constant threats to my life have become distressingly commonplace ever since someone leaked sensitive information about me. As a result, influential individuals have relentlessly pursued both me and my family. This is precisely why privacy holds an incredibly high value within our family. We understand that there will come a time when the world will witness and acknowledge our presence. However, the current circumstances do not deem it appropriate, which is why we continue to conceal every aspect of our lives to the best of our ability.