Margaret Tucker AKA Lord Reaper novel Chapter 6

Margaret saw the gun in the man's hand and frowned. "Hey, this kill is mine. Don't steal it."
A dark blur flashed at the edge of Andrew's vision. In the next instant, the gun was no longer in his hand—it was in hers.
Shock hit him hard. She was incredibly fast. So fast he hadn't even registered the movement.
The middle-aged man beside him was also shocked. Even he, as Andrew's personal bodyguard, hadn't seen how she did it.
His combat skills were among the best worldwide.
But this girl—all delicate looks and seemingly harmless—had disarmed his boss right under his nose. Silently.
Now seeing the gun in her hand pointed at Andrew, his eyes turned deadly cold. "Put the weapon down," he ordered.
Andrew, however, remained perfectly calm despite the dark muzzle aimed his way.
He studied the girl thoughtfully, his gaze deep and unreadable.
"Pretty boy, you're too handsome to play with dangerous toys," she said casually.
She spun the silver pistol effortlessly, one slender finger hooked through the trigger guard. It twirled like a child's top.
"You think this little thing can really kill someone?" With a slight flick of her wrist, the spinning stopped abruptly, the gun perfectly still in her hand.
A wild, daring smile played on her lips.
Then, she pressed the cold muzzle firmly against her own temple.
The middle-aged man stared, convinced she was insane.
Andrew remained unmoved, his voice low. "Theoretically, yes. It can kill."
She smiled again—arrogant, wicked, radiating a cold, killer-like aura. "Then tell me, if I pull the trigger right now, will I die?"
Andrew didn't blink. "Feel free to try."
He was certain she was bluffing.
But then, she smoothly clicked off the safety.
The gun remained pressed to her head. One small mistake, and a bullet would end her life.
The middle-aged man held his breath, tension gripping his chest.
<i>I</i><i>s she truly crazy?</i> <i>This </i><i>i</i><i>s a real, loaded firearm.</i> <i>Not a toy.</i>
"If I squeeze the trigger now... will I die?" Her eyes blazed with defiance.
Andrew narrowed his eyes. No one had ever challenged him like this.
"You're welcome to try."
He still believed she wouldn't go through with it. It was just a mind game. He wouldn't be outplayed by a girl.
"Fine."
She gave a wild, brazen grin and pulled the trigger without hesitation—as if she didn't care whether she lived or died.
"Stop!"
Seeing her actually do it, Andrew's eyes tightened sharply.
This crazy little fool!!
It was too late. Her finger completed the motion.
Click!
No gunshot. No explosion. Just the empty sound of the trigger engaging. The gun hadn't fired.
She lowered the pistol and opened her other hand. Several bullets lay neatly on her palm.
She threw him a triumphant smile, her radiant face both stunning and mischievous. "You lost, handsome."
Andrew was silent, still processing her reckless stunt.
The middle-aged man watched, his mind reeling once again. He stared at the girl, completely bewildered.
She had removed the bullets earlier. But when? In that split second?
A chill ran down his spine despite himself. Cold sweat dampened his back.
With speed like that, if she had wanted them dead, both he and Andrew would already be corpses.
After a long moment, Andrew finally snapped out of it. His handsome face darkened. A cold aura rolled off him. Violent anger flashed in his eyes.
He had been played by a girl.
Why had he even worried about her? Whether she lived or died was none of his concern.
As he remembered his own sudden panic, his cool expression twisted with irritation. A strange, sour feeling rose in his chest, making him even angrier.