Chapter 7 - Monaco BloodbathThe Casino de Monte-Carlo glowed like a diamond against the dark waters of the Mediterranean. High-society elites, corrupt politicians, and billionaire arms dealers waltzed under gold-leaf chandeliers, wearing intricate velvet and golden masks.
Julian Vance stepped into the grand ballroom wearing a tailored black tuxedo, a silver Venetian mask covering the upper half of his face. By his side, Maria looked breathtaking in her blood-red silk gown, her eyes constantly scanning the room, analyzing exit routes and security guards.
"Target sighted," Maria whispered, leaning into Julian as if sharing a romantic secret. "Countess Sophia is in the VIP balcony on the second floor, surrounded by four armed heavies."
"Wait for my signal," Julian replied softly.
He walked up the grand marble staircase with unhurried grace. As he reached the balcony entrance, two towering guards in expensive suits blocked his path.
"Private party, sir," one guard grunted in a heavy Russian accent.
Julian didn't argue. In one swift, fluid motion, he grabbed the guard's wrist, twisted it inward until the bone snapped with a sickening CRACK, and slammed the man’s face into the marble balustrade. Before the second guard could draw his weapon, Maria glided past Julian, burying a silent shock-taser into the guard’s neck. The man dropped instantly.
Julian kicked open the heavy velvet doors to the Countess’s private lounge.
Countess Sophia, a breathtaking woman in her late thirties wearing a diamond-encrusted dress, froze with a glass of champagne in her hand. Sitting across from her was a man in a white suit whose face was completely hidden behind a gold skull mask.
"Julian," Sophia gasped, dropping her glass. It shattered on the Persian rug. "How... how did you bypass security?"
"Where is the antidote, Sophia?" Julian demanded, taking heavy, deliberate steps toward her. "You have sixty seconds to hand over the neuro-inhibitor for V-89, or I will end your life right here."
The man in the gold skull mask began to laugh—a low, distorted sound that sent a chill through the room. He stood up slowly.
"You're too late, brother," the man said, lifting his hands to remove the mask.
When the mask came off, Julian froze for the first time in his life.
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The face underneath was half-covered in severe burn scars, but the cold, piercing blue eyes were unmistakably those of Alexander Vance.
"Hello, Julian," Alexander sneered, a horrific smile stretching across his scarred face. "Did you really think I’d leave the antidote in Monaco?"
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