Chapter 6 - A Desperate Gamble“Let her go!” I roared, taking a half-step forward before a dozen rifle lasers painted my chest.
Grace’s eyes met mine through her tears. She looked bruised, exhausted, and terrified, but she shook her head fiercely, trying to mouth ‘don't’ over the barrel of the knife.
Viktor chuckled, walking over to inspect the heavy iron key he had just stripped from Marcus’s unconscious grip. He held it up to the dim red light, admiring the intricate Rossi crest carved into the metal.
“Oh, Dante. You really thought you could sneak your little bride out through the emergency tunnels? Your estate was compromised the moment you stepped foot on the tarmac,” Viktor said, tossing the key from hand to hand. He turned his gaze toward Grace, a predatory gleam in his eye. “A nine-month-pregnant wife of a Rossi. Do you know how much leverage this gives us? With the old woman dead and you kneeling in front of me, the entire Rossi empire is basically gift-wrapped on a silver platter.”
“You won't get away with this. The European coalition is already securing the perimeter,” I lied smoothly, keeping my eyes locked on the gunman holding the blade to Grace’s throat.
“Let them come,” Viktor laughed dismissively. “By the time they blast through the front gates, this little family drama will have a very tragic ending. Starting with the heir.”
The gunman pressed the knife slightly closer to Grace’s skin, drawing a tiny bead of crimson.
My blood ran cold, but my mind raced at lightning speed. I didn't need the coalition. I needed distraction.
I slowly lowered my weapon, letting it dangle loosely from my right hand as if I were surrendering.
“Fine. You win, Viktor,” I said, my voice dripping with feigned defeat. “Take the ports. Take the estates. Let her go.”
Viktor smirked, clearly enjoying the sight of a Rossi begging. “You always were dramatic, Dante. But surrender doesn't suit you. Pick up your gun and let’s end this properly—man to man.”
He tossed his pistol aside onto the concrete floor, drawing a heavy hunting knife from his belt.
It was the opening I had been waiting for.
With blinding speed, I didn't reach for my dropped weapon. Instead, I lunged forward, grabbing a heavy medical oxygen tank from the floor and hurling it with all my might directly at the gunman holding Grace.
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The heavy steel cylinder smashed square into the guard's chest, sending him crashing backward and releasing Grace from his grip.
Chaos erupted in the narrow hallway.
