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The Last Heir Chapter 57: The Thought of Shot
I did not flinch, nor did my feet tremble with fear. Just like before, I knew the gun was empty because I was the one who assembled it, and I did not see where I had inserted the bullets. "Why are you not flinching?” Samantha asked, and with that, I replied, "Because there is no bullet in the weapon in your hand.” I answered, showing perfect confidence on my face. "Oh! Really?" Samantha asked. "How about now?” She said this as she now, indeed, right in front of my eyes, inserted some bullets into the gun and pulled the safety off. "I ask, how about now?" My heart was racing right at this moment; however, I did not show it. For some reason, I knew very well that Samantha was never going to shoot me. I did not respond but continued to breathe heavily, with my face swollen like a frowning child. Either way, it did not mean Samantha was not going to ask another question. "Are you the son of your father?” She asked. However, if I said anything, it would be a lie. A perfect silence ami
The Last Heir Chapter 58: Wake Up and Shoot
Suddenly, out of my blank state, my eyelids fluttered slowly. Awareness crept back into my senses. A deep breath escaped my lips, and with each inhale, life returned like the first rays of dawn breaking through the darkness. Finally, my eyes opened, and I blinked at the world's brightness.The weather seemed cold and unforgiving, with a biting wind that cut through layers of clothing like a sharp blade.As soon as I groaned in agony, attempting to sit upright, the first person my eyes peered at was Samantha."We thought you were dead!" she said."Welcome to a new day. Now, get ready for training," she said again."But training? I was barely getting better," I thought. As if the others heard my thoughts, my eyes peered at them, who were right in the right corner adjacent to Samantha in the left corner in the same tent with me. I saw them shrug their shoulders and raise their hands like they were unconcerned about my health."Get up now, Mr. Marcus. Get to training. Your father's enemie
The Last Heir 1.The Kid From The Street
Life can be tough. But what if your life involved sleeping in the street, getting beaten by heavy rain, and having the cold slap you in the face during winter? What if you had to watch someone get killed in front of you like they were just a tiny fly? That was my reality. I'm Marcus Taylor. At 22 years old, 6.5 feet tall, and with curly hair, I'm that person who grew up on the streets. They told me my father and mother died in an accident on the highway from Chicago. I was just an infant, whom they strapped to the back seat of the car. Of course, I remembered nothing of what happened while I was growing up, so I had no reason to question their deaths. My parents were poor before they died. I needed no one to tell me that. I had no inheritance left to me. And the closest family they could have taken me to rejected me. I mean, who rejects a baby? But that's the definition of the useless uncle that I have. That was the reason the orphanage took me in, and then when I ran off, it was
The Last Heir 2.The Tension Discovery
The gang leader was as tall as me. He always walked as if he'd been injured in a shooting war, but no one knew for sure. The turf war that he was involved in was said to have taken place even before I arrived on the street. He was a black man who wore a red beret and a big gold chain around his neck. He had a vest on his bare chest that belonged under a suit, on top of an inner white shirt. His trousers were easily recognizable by the soldiers, and he wore black boots that seemed too heavy for his feet. "Talk! Who stole from me?" He demanded, grabbing a guy and blowing smoke in his face. The guy remained silent. Of course, he didn't know who it was. But I was wrong. Yes, he knew who it was, and he wasn't ready to become the sacrificial lamb with a bullet to his head. Slowly, he pointed at Andrew, who was visibly trembling and quivering his body involuntarily. The gang leader followed the guy''s hand with his eyes. He suddenly smirked. The bag in Andrew's hand, coupled with the fa
The Last Heir 3. Strang Call
May 16, 2005, every person on the street had already forgotten that Andrew had been shot. At this moment, it felt as though it had happened a long time ago. But he was only shot the day before. My sleep throughout the night was disturbed by the dream of what happened during the day. And one of the persistent questions that I kept asking myself, even in my sleep, was: If the old man had not recognized my necklace, what would have happened to me by now? The new day began with the rising sun, which arrived far too early, and everyone on the street already started their day by begging for food or money to buy it, or pick-pocketing for cash. I also saw a few boys across the road planning some kind of illegal activity that also involved stealing from a gang. But of course, for anything that involved stealing from either of the gangs, I will not be part of it. However, it did not undermine the fact that Andrew stole from the big gang, gave the other boys the courage to do the same, and "e
The Last Heir 4. Not Him
When I raised the phone to my ear and spoke in a loud voice, I could not understand what had happened because there was only silence on the other end of the line.I pulled the phone to my face again and looked at the screen. The screen was bright, but it did not appear like I had received a call."Did I press the wrong button?" I contemplated. "Tring Tring." The phone rang again with a sharp trill. I whispered to myself, gawking curiously at the phone buttons. “'Which button should I press this time?”"This button has the icon of a telephone drawn on it, and it is green. The other button also has the icon of a telephone but it is red." "I pressed the red button before and I heard silence. I will press green this time."Immediately as I pressed the green button and lifted the phone to my ear, I heard a deep male voice talk to me on the phone. "Hello, am I onto Mr Marcus Taylor?""This is not the voice of the old man, nor is it the voice of his stupid henchmen. Who is it on the phone,
The Last Heir 5. Cell and The Male Voice
Voices continued as they gave themselves instructions on where to search and where not to. "But is there such a thing as 'you do not have to search that area'?" No one would hide in the dirt just to save his head. Isn't that the real place you should search for? "For f**king sake, I can't be the only one arrested on the street!" I continued to stare at the dumpster. None of the police had gone near it. Silly heads. They were looking into different houses and stores around. "Why won't these blockheads just open the dumpsters, search the trash bags, and go into the silent corners of the bridge? These are real hideouts for the people living on the street." "Let's go! We will come back another day!" Two police officers got into the patrol car. But the patrol car was not the only car the police brought to the street. There was also a black van behind the patrol car, and over five officers jumped right back into it. The car started, and the police officer who was in the driver's seat
The Last Heir 6. Out The Cell- the Male Office!
"Hey, rise to your feet. Let's go!" the man said to me from a little distance from the office to the cell. I could not quite recognize who it was, so I continued to look at him, wondering and trying to refresh my memory if I had seen him somewhere before. More questions about who he was, why he bailed me out of the cell, or how he knew they arrested me struck my mind. Anyway, it was nice that some stranger came to my aid, and I could come out of the cell without being taken to jail. That was a good feeling. The same way the metal clanged, and the key rattled before, it did again, and the cell's iron door was opened. Quickly, I rose to my feet. If not for anything else, it was because I felt they could change their mind somewhat, and I wouldn't want that to happen. "How are you?" The smile on the man's face showed he knew me before. But where? And why was he being so nice to me? "Who are you, sir?" I asked, raising my eyes before I could gaze at his face since I was standing nea
Latest Chapter
- The Last Heir Chapter 58: Wake Up and Shoot
- The Last Heir Chapter 57: The Thought of Shot
- The Last Heir Chapter 56: The Assemble
- The Last Heir Chapter 55: The Trigger!
- The Last Heir Chapter 54. From The Tent
- The Last Heir Chapter 53. Getting to The Training Ground
- The Last Heir 52. The Training Ground
- The Last Heir 51. The DriveWay
- The Last Heir 50 Start the F**king car!