Calculated Sins

The somber chime of a church bell. The sound of a crowd whispering as the rain hit the black umbrellas. They say a widow’s tears are the purest water. But Vittoria’s tears weren’t water. They were gasoline. And she was just waiting for a match. Vittoria looked at them. The board of directors, each and every one of them as they cried for her husband, but she knew it was all fake. They were salivating for his shares. She knew them very well, and equally their thoughts as well. They all thought she was a broken doll, incapable, could be easily deceived. A sharp, dark smirk rose on her face, with only one thought running through her mind: Let them think. It suited her well, and makes the strike much cleaner. The crunch of expensive shoes on gravel could be heard as someone steps close to her. Vittoria didn’t bother checking who it was. They would make themselves known, she knew. Julian’s voice, deep, slightly raspy sounded tipsy. “Careful, Mrs. Sterling. If you grip that handkerchief any tighter, you’ll strangle the lace. It’s bad luck to kill something at a funeral,” he said from behind her before coming to stand in front of her. Vittoria caught herself immediately, voice trembling softly. “Mr. Valerius,” she acknowledged. “I didn't think you'd show up to pay your respects. I heard you were... indisposed.” “Oh, I was,” Julian responded, not minding the pause or her words. Moving much closer than expected, he continued. “But I never miss a good performance.” He leaned in, his voice dropping an octave, becoming dangerously sober as he spoke. “You’re a very good actress, Vittoria. But your pulse is too steady for a woman who just lost her "everything." Vittoria’s breath hitched, her eyes locking with Julian’s for a second before she looked down, her lids and lashes casting a shadow over her beautiful orbs. The sound of her heartbeat was like that of a monitor attached to a sick patient going into shock —fast, then forced before it went back to slow. She knew she had to get a grip, and control herself. She couldn’t lose so early in the game. Vittoria was never one for losing. “I don’t know what you mean,” Vittoria responded, backing away from him. Julian smirked, mischief in his eyes. He took his sweet time, before he whispered. “I think you do. I’m Julian. I’m the guy people call when things don’t add up. And right now? Your husband’s "heart attack" has a very interesting mathematical error.” Vittoria said nothing, just stared at Julian, and him right back at her. They were almost having a stare off. Different things were going through Julian’s mind in that moment. He couldn’t decide which it was—awe, skeptism, suspicion, thrill, curiosity, admiration. It was just everything all at once, and more. Vittoria was no different, but in her case, one emotion stood out. Annoyance. A sudden distant explosion—muffled, sent the crowd into a frenzy as people screamed, chaos ensued. Everyone helter-skelter. Vittoria knew that was her distraction. The vault in the Sterling building just went up in flames, deleting the evidence of her husband’s "suicide." Vittoria pretends to faint, and Julian catches her. The fabric of his suit rustles, which didn’t go unnoticed by him, considering how aware of his surroundings he was. He let out a scoff, almost a snort even. Julian didn’t know whether to be impressed or insulted. With his voice low, Julian whispered in Vittoria’s ear. “Nice touch. The fainting spell. But I felt the knife tucked into your thigh when I caught you.” Julian tilted his head, staring at the woman he held in his arms. Vittoria, with no choice now as she knew she had been caught, voice now razor-sharp, dropped the act. “Then you know that if you don't let me go in three seconds, you’ll find out exactly how sharp it is, "Playboy,” she responded, not missing a beat herself. Her gaze was cold, eyes clear and unreadable. Julian chuckled. “I like you, Viper. This hunt is going to be so expensive.” The atmosphere between them turned dark and aggressive. It was as if a dramatic cello music began playing in the background in that moment. Two people with different agendas. They both were capable people, and knew the weight they each wielded. One was hunting a killer. The other was hunting justice. In a game where everyone was wearing a mask, the first person to show their heart... loses. The only thing was, they both don’t realize they are hunting the same person—Julian’s father. They have to decide if they can trust their enemy enough to share a bed... and a blade.