Chapter 7 - The Rise of the Fallen King
Time seemed to fracture into slow motion. Camila spun around at the sudden noise, her eyes widening in absolute horror as she stared at the man everyone believed was permanently paralyzed.
“M-Massimo? How... that’s impossible!” she gasped, her aim wavering between me and the man standing in the doorway.
“You underestimated my physical therapist, Camila,” Massimo growled, his voice a lethal rumble that echoed off the stone walls. His legs shook violently under the strain, the titanium rods in his spine screaming under the weight, but his arms were iron pillars of absolute resolve. “And you severely underestimated me.”
Before Camila could swing her pistol toward him, I hurled the heavy brass paperweight straight at her face. It caught her shoulder, throwing her aim off just enough as she fired. The bullet punched through the wooden molding inches above my head with a deafening crack.
In a flash of motion, Massimo lunged forward on his crutches, closing the distance with terrifying speed. He slammed his right forearm against Camila’s wrist, sending her pistol clattering across the hardwood floor. With a swift, brutal twist of his body, he pinned her against the bookshelf, his forearm pressing hard against her throat.
“Who else?” Massimo demanded, his face inches from hers, veins bulging in his neck. “Who else is in on this with you?”
Camila choked for air, her face turning purple, her arrogant composure completely shattered. “V-Viktor... it was... Viktor...” she wheezed.
The front doors of the mansion echoed with a fresh wave of shouting. Heavy boots thundered up the staircase. Viktor and the remaining guards, having realized the perimeter alarm was a diversion, were swarming back toward the east wing.
“Boss!” Viktor’s voice boomed from the hallway as he reached the shattered doorway, pistol drawn and ready.
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Viktor stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at Camila pinned against the shelf, then down at Massimo standing upright on his crutches, and finally over at me standing by the desk. A slow, sinister smile spread across the scarred giant's face.
“Well, well,” Viktor murmured, raising his weapon toward Massimo’s chest. “It looks like the miracle cure came a little too late, boss.”
