Chapter 8 — The Shot That Changed Everything
Chapter 8 — The Shot That Changed Everything
The tiny red laser dot settled over Vincent Torino's chest.
For one frozen heartbeat, no one moved.
The sniper was waiting.
Waiting for Vincent to flinch.
Waiting for him to protect himself instead of the people behind him.
Vincent had survived fifty-three years because he recognized death the instant it entered a room.
"DOWN!"
He lunged toward Elena's hospital bed, throwing his body across both Elena and Sophie.
The rifle cracked.
The bullet smashed through the window behind them instead of Vincent's heart, showering the room with thousands of glittering shards.
Tony fired toward the hallway.
"Second floor! East wing!"
Two bodyguards rushed toward the broken window while another dragged a heavy medical cabinet in front of the doorway.
Outside, rain poured over the hospital courtyard.
Across the street, on the rooftop of an abandoned office building, a shadow lowered a sniper rifle and disappeared into the darkness before Vincent's men could return fire.
"He planned the escape route," Tony growled.
Vincent slowly stood.
"He never intended to finish the job."
Tony frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"The sniper wasn't here to kill me."
He looked toward Elena.
"He wanted her to say those words."
"The truth about Maria..."
Vincent repeated them quietly.
Someone had manipulated every step of the night.
The attack on the flower shop.
The envelope.
The hospital assault.
Even the sniper.
Each event had pushed Vincent closer to one destination.
The safety deposit box.
Suddenly a police captain burst into the room.
"Mr. Torino, we've secured the building."
Vincent barely looked at him.
"Too late."
The captain surveyed the wreckage.
Three dead gunmen.
Two wounded officers.
Terrified nurses helping injured patients.
"This wasn't robbery."
"No."
Vincent's voice was cold.
"It was theater."
The captain hesitated.
"We recovered one survivor."
Vincent turned.
"Alive?"
"He refuses to speak."
Vincent holstered his pistol.
"Take me to him."
The wounded attacker lay handcuffed to a hospital bed under heavy guard.
His shoulder was wrapped in fresh bandages.
Despite the pain, he smiled the moment Vincent entered.
"You finally came."
Vincent pulled up a chair.
"Who hired you?"
Silence.
Vincent leaned closer.
"What do you know about Maria?"
The smile grew wider.
"You still don't understand..."
He coughed, laughing through blood.
"This game isn't about your wife anymore."
Before anyone could react, the prisoner bit down hard.
A hidden cyanide capsule shattered between his teeth.
Foam filled his mouth.
Doctors rushed forward.
Too late.
Within seconds...
He was dead.
Only one thing remained in his clenched fist.
May you like
A weathered chess piece.
A black king.
