Part 7: The Web of Deceit and the Final Stand
Vincent’s smile faltered just a fraction, replaced by a cold, calculating glint in his aging eyes.
"Sophia is a professional, Lorenzo," Vincent said smoothly, tapping the silver head of his cane against the marble floor. "When Noah stopped speaking, I knew he was a liability. A silent witness is a ticking bomb. I needed someone inside the east wing to monitor him, to make sure his memory never unlocked, and if necessary... to quietly put him to sleep."
Down behind the concrete pillar, Sophia’s posture stiffened, but she did not flinch. She looked up at Vincent with undisguised contempt.
"You told me I was protecting an orphan whose family was destroyed by rivals," Sophia called out, her voice ringing clear and steady across the foyer. "You didn't tell me the monster who killed his mother was the man paying my salary."
"Business requires compartmentalization, my dear," Vincent replied dismissively. "And you served your purpose well—until you gave the boy that drawing. Sentimentality is a fatal flaw in our line of work. Just like it was for Isabella."
Vincent raised his left hand, snapping his fingers twice.
From the shadows of the ground-floor corridors, four armed men stepped out, their submachine guns raised, sweeping their laser sights toward the upper balcony where I stood.
"Drop the gun, Lorenzo," Vincent commanded, his voice hardening into steel. "You can't shoot all of us before my men turn you and your little family into Swiss cheese."
My mind raced. Four men down below, Vincent armed with a concealed weapon, and the exit routes cut off by the system override. The odds were mathematically impossible.
Yet, as I looked down at the men, I noticed a subtle detail that Vincent had missed in his arrogance.
The four guards weren't looking at me with the fierce loyalty of seasoned mob enforcers. Their eyes were darting nervously toward the courtyard doors behind them.
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Because while Vincent had been busy disabling the internal cameras, he hadn't accounted for the external perimeter backups wired directly into an independent, satellite-linked server—a server that didn't rely on the mansion's main grid.
A server that Cosimo had managed to reboot just before his line went dead.
