Chapter 8 - The Viper's Gambit
The air in my chest turned to pure ice.
"You're lying," I shouted over the marble pillar, though a sick, creeping realization began to claw at my mind.
"Ask her yourself," Corvo smiled, gesturing to his left.
From the dark corridor leading to the East Wing, Valeria walked out quietly. She was holding her SIG Sauer, her face completely void of emotion. Behind her, holding onto the hem of her jacket, was Grace.
"Valeria..." I breathed, my voice cracking in a way it hadn't in twenty years.
Grace froze, her sensitive ears picking up the sheer horror in my tone. "Dad? What's going on? Why are we standing in the foyer?"
"She traded you, Matteo," Corvo sneered, stepping closer into the hall while his shield-bearers formed an impenetrable wall around him. "Valeria brought your daughter out to me in exchange for the Bellona family's assets back in Sicily. A very simple, very lucrative trade."
Grace gasped, her small hands instantly dropping from Valeria's jacket. She backed away a step, her sightless eyes wide with pure, devastating betrayal. "Evelyn... no... you promised..."
Valeria didn't look at Grace. She kept her weapon lowered, staring straight at me. "It was business, Matteo. It was always business."
"I trusted you with my child!" I screamed, stepping out from behind the pillar, raising my Kimber directly at Valeria's forehead. "I let you into my home!"
"Put the gun down, Matteo," Corvo commanded softly. "Or my men will turn your precious little girl into Swiss cheese before you can pull that trigger."
Two of Corvo's shield-bearers shifted their heavy rifles, aiming their laser sights straight at Grace's chest. Two bright red dots danced across her pink cotton sweater.
Grace stood frozen on the blood-soaked marble floor, surrounded by armed killers, her breathing shallow, her hands shaking uncontrollably.
"Valeria," Corvo said, extending his hand toward Grace. "Hand the girl over. We're leaving."
Valeria took a slow step toward Grace. She reached out her hand, grabbing Grace by her upper arm.
Grace flinched, tears spilling over her pale cheeks. "Don't touch me..."
"Hold still, Grace," Valeria whispered softly—so softly that only a blind girl with hyper-sensitive hearing could hear it over the sound of the wind. "Weight shift. Right heel. Three inches."
Grace's eyes widened under her tears. She didn't say a word. She felt the subtle shift in Valeria's posture—the tiny, imperceptible tension in her muscles right before an attack.
In one lighting-fast movement, Valeria didn't push Grace toward Corvo.
She slammed her palm into Grace's shoulder, dropping the twelve-year-old girl flat onto the marble floor—inches beneath the line of fire!
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Valeria's SIG Sauer barked three times in micro-second intervals.
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The three heavy rounds didn't target the shield-bearers—they hit the exposed hydraulic pressure seals on the riot shields, causing the heavy steel plates to buckle inward, blinding the shooters behind them!
"NOW, MATTEO!" Valeria roared.
