Chapter 5：Shooting Lessons
611words
"Impressed?" Alexander took a handgun from the rack.
"I didn't expect a financier to have such a hobby." I responded.
Alexander checked the chamber: "In my world, knowing how to protect yourself is necessary. What about you? Can you use a gun?"
I shook my head. In my previous life, I had never touched a weapon. The Sinclair heiress who grew up in that greenhouse knew nothing about danger.
"Then, first lesson." Alexander handed me the gun, "Hold it, feel its weight."
I took the gun, the cold touch of metal reminded me of the desperation on the day of the car accident.
"Not like that." Alexander walked behind me, his hands covering mine, adjusting my posture, "The gun is an extension of your body, not an enemy."
His chest pressed against my back, his breath brushing over my earlobe. I felt an unnatural rush of heat.
"Aim for the bullseye," Alexander's voice sounded by my ear. "Take a deep breath, then pull the trigger at the moment you exhale."
I did as instructed, but the bullet missed the bullseye.
"Again," Alexander didn't release me. "The trigger is like a man's tie, pull too hastily and you reveal weakness. It must be slow and firm."
This metaphor reminded me of our wedding day, the way he undid his tie. I aimed again, this time the bullet hit just beside the bullseye.
"Great progress," Alexander released me. "Keep practicing."
I fired continuously, gradually finding my rhythm. When Alexander turned to get more ammunition, I deliberately missed my last shot, the bullet striking a safe behind the distant target.
Alexander glanced back, his expression subtly changing, but he said nothing.
"Why are you suddenly teaching me how to shoot?" I asked, putting down the gun.
"Because your enemies won't only attack you with words." Alexander walked closer and took back the gun. "Clara contacted a private detective yesterday."
I raised my eyebrows: "To investigate me?"
"To investigate our marriage." Alexander corrected. "She suspects it's all an act."
"Then let her investigate." I was unconcerned.
Alexander shook his head: "You're underestimating her. Clara Sinclair isn't just a spoiled heiress, she's a viper."
"I understand her better than anyone." My voice turned cold.
Alexander looked at me: "Really? Then did you know she visits a private clinic in Switzerland every month?"
I froze. This was information I didn't know in my past life.
"Why?" I asked.
"That's what we need to find out." Alexander handed me a USB drive. "Here are records of her schedules for the past five years."
I took the USB drive: "Why are you helping me?"
Alexander's gaze deepened: "Perhaps I just enjoy the game. Or," he leaned closer to me, his finger lightly touching my chin, "I'm more interested in your secrets, Vivian Sinclair."
Our eyes met, and for the first time, I felt that my disguise might have been seen through.
As I left the shooting range, I looked back at the safe that had been hit by bullets. I knew what was inside—evidence of Clara switching babies. In my previous life, I discovered the truth before I died, but it was too late.
This time, I'll strike first.
But Alexander's words made me uneasy. He seemed to know too much—about Clara, about me. Who exactly is he? Why is he so interested in my revenge? I need to be more careful, not letting anyone, including Alexander, see through my true intentions.
In this game, knowing too much could be fatal.
