Page 75 of Koroleva

I had none of my men nearby to alert, nor could I pull out my gun to shoot without losing visibility. The curves didn’t allow me to turn around and fire. And that damn guy was still behind me.

My only option was to keep driving like a bat out of hell and try not to die in the process, either from bullets or in a crash while trying to overtake.

Another car appeared in front of me on the next curve. I had

to overtake it or I was going to be in deep trouble.

A second impact embedded itself in the passenger seat. I smelled the burned leather and took a gamble without looking. Either I would die riddled with bullets or I would speed up as if there was no tomorrow and barely escape.

A car was coming head-on. I held my breath. I crossed even the toes of my feet scraping milliseconds that would decide my fate. I closed my eyes before the imminent collision, turning the steering wheel to the right.

3, 2, 1...

The honking was deafening.

I didn't crash! And there was a line of five vehicles too close together for that armed bastard to overtake!

"Fuck you!" I wanted to shout, but I preferred to keep pushing the pedal and reach 350 km/h. My body shook, a damn stone on the road and I would be flying through the air. Sweat glued the knit dress to my back. The curves had ended and a Mercadona appeared on my right. "Civilization in sight, now I had to decide where to go to lose track of my assassin."

I couldn’t enter the supermarket with the wrecked Bugatti; it would attract too much attention. On my left, I found a sign pointing to the exclusive golf club my father-in-law had praised on my wedding day. It seemed a suitable place. Surely they would have parking, a restaurant, and a place where I could hide until I could call my men.

I couldn’t enter the roundabout the way I was going to, but I didn't care. I earned the third honk of the morning from the car that was calmly circulating in it. The driver wore a look of extreme fright and his wife was half out of the window shouting at me that they were with the kids. I crossed when I shouldn’t have, I already knew that, but they weren’t being chased by gunfire on a road with no visibility.

"Fuck everyone! My life was the most important thing.

I glanced in the rearview mirror; it seemed that I had lost the driver of the black car, however, I didn't want to declare victory just yet.

I had just experienced some of the most distressing minutes of my life. My mind replayed what had happened until I saw the entrance to the club and the valet.

I didn’t realize the speed I was still carrying until the tires screeched on the asphalt from braking.

I breathed several times and wiped the sweat off my forehead.

The valet opened the door for me. My body was shaking like a newborn’s rattle. I couldn’t feel my arms or legs. The accumulated tension was overwhelming.

The man blinked several times as he noticed the shattered glass that sparkled like diamonds inside the vehicle.

"A rock on the road," I excused myself, trying to calm down. In places like that, workers were trained to accept any explanation the clients provided and, above all, not to ask questions. He nodded.

"A tough break, if I may say so, madam," I nodded. I got out of the vehicle with my knees like jelly.

"Park it in a discreet place and I’ll give you a good tip. If you can cover it, that would be best. I wouldn’t want anyone to get cut."

"I’ll put a frost cover on it if that suits the madam."

"I see we understand each other." I opened my wallet, pulled out a hundred-euro bill, and slipped it into his vest pocket. His eyes sparkled. I didn’t remove my hand from inside; I needed to feel the security my weapon gave me.

I entered the club and the first thing I saw was an information desk. A smiling girl with a name badge on her chest welcomed me.

"Can I help you with anything?" she asked kindly.

"I doubt it, though you can try," I muttered impertinently.

She offered me a timid smile.

"Would you like information about our courses, for you or your children?"

"Do I look like a mother?" She swallowed hard.

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