Chapter 299 Target Practice

Ella

The laughter from Logan was unexpected-a short burst, barely audible over the ambient hum of the bar’s patrons. “You’re very funny, Ella,” he said, shaking his head. I sat up straighter, leveling Logan with an icy stare. “I’m dead serious, Logan.”

His blue eyes bore into mine, trying to gauge if I was joking. “You? A gun?” “Yes,” I replied, unwavering. “Growing up, my father made sure I took shooting lessons. For self-defense. Your bodyguard has an extra pistol, doesn’t he?”

Logan’s expression shifted from amusement to contemplation. “You truly think you can handle it?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I couldn’t.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Alright. But you’ll have to prove yourself first.”

“Prove myself how?” I laughed, looking around. “Don’t tell me your next big reveal of the night is for me to shoot the pimp that’s been standing in the corner and giving you dirty glares since you beat up one of his customers.”

Logan’s face turned a slight shade of red, but only momentarily.

“No,” he said. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

As the music and laughter reverberated through the bar, Logan took my hand and guided me away from the throng of people, making sure we went unnoticed.

a quick detour to the bar, grabbing empty beer bottles that

to recycle those or something?” I

He smirked. “You’ll see.”

it down, the air was silent, save for the rhythmic

Princess Ella took shooting lessons, huh?” Logan asked, glancing over at me.

my

scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Just didn’t think he’d be the

“You

pause before Logan, with a side glance,

you mean?” I asked. He hesitated, then finally said, “I find you… very

tried to

some preconceived notions.

taken aback by his

now?” He smiled, genuine and warm. “Now, I’m glad to admit I was wrong. I’m pleased to get to

myself taken aback, not expecting such raw honesty. A thousand retorts rushed to

shouldn’t believe everything you read,” I finally said, my voice

grow thicker. “I look forward to meeting

our arrangement, but thinking about it still

words that swirled in my mind: I’m not sure if

the basement. As the doors slid open, revealing the rustic confines beyond, I felt a mix

of old cement and moist dirt surrounded

the bottles on an old wooden table. The room was spacious, the brick walls damp, revealing its age and history. From somewhere high up, an old rusty sign hung, swaying ever so slightly, bearing the emblem of what might’ve once been the name of a shop. Picking

a swift move, he aimed and fired. Two bottles shattered instantly, their fragments scattering across the table. He grinned triumphantly, expecting applause or

my turn.” He handed over the gun, an amused expression

my breath, recalling all the sessions, all the instructions, all the relentless drills I had undergone.

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