Chapter 8 - Warren Bellamy SmilesWarren Bellamy walked through gunfire like weather annoyed him.
His men spread across Ruth Calder’s yard, polished shoes sinking into wet grass, weapons hidden beneath tailored coats.
Arthur’s security team returned fire from behind the SUVs.
Evelyn crouched behind the kitchen island with the metal box clutched to her chest.
Victoria stood frozen until Arthur shoved her down.
“Move.”
She hit the floor just as a bullet shattered the cabinet behind her.
Warren’s voice carried from outside.
“Arthur! This is embarrassing.”
Arthur looked through a crack in the wall.
Warren stood near the front steps, calm as ever.
No weapon in his hand.
Men like Warren never carried their own guns.
They carried people.
Arthur shouted, “You came yourself. That means the box matters.”
Warren smiled.
“Everything matters when family is involved.”
Victoria flinched at the word family.
Arthur saw it.
So did Warren.
His gaze shifted toward the kitchen window.
“Victoria, darling. Come outside.”
She went still.
Arthur said, “No.”
Warren’s smile widened.
“She’s my daughter.”
Arthur’s voice turned icy. “She stopped being your shield tonight.”
Warren sighed. “Such drama. Americans have become addicted to it.”
Evelyn whispered, “Arthur, back exit. Now.”
Arthur nodded.
They moved through the pantry toward the cellar stairs.
Victoria hesitated.
Arthur turned. “What?”
She looked toward the front.
“If we run, he follows us back to the children.”
“He already knows where they are.”
“But he doesn’t have the box.”
Arthur looked at her.
Victoria’s face was pale, but something steadier had replaced panic.
“He wants the documents more than he wants me.”
“You think I’m letting you walk out there?”
She gave a bitter smile.
“You threw me out, remember?”
“This isn’t the time.”
“It’s exactly the time.”
Before Arthur could stop her, Victoria grabbed the photograph of the newborns from the table and stepped into the hallway.
Arthur caught her wrist.
“No.”
She looked at his hand, then at him.
“For twelve years, I chose fear. Let me choose something else once.”
Arthur did not release her.
“You are not redeeming yourself by dying.”
Her eyes filled.
“Then let me buy you ten minutes.”
She pulled free and walked to the front door.
Arthur cursed under his breath and signaled Evelyn to move with the box.
Outside, Warren’s smile vanished when he saw his daughter.
Victoria stepped onto the porch with her hands raised.
“Father.”
“Victoria.”
His voice was almost tender.
That made it worse.
She held up the photograph.
“I have what you want.”
Warren looked at it.
Then at her.
“Do you?”
Arthur watched from the dark hallway, every muscle ready.
Victoria’s voice shook but held.
“Let Arthur leave.”
Warren laughed.
“My dear, you still think you are negotiating.”
“I’m your daughter.”
“You were useful when you were obedient.”
Victoria absorbed the words like a blow.
Then she said something Arthur never expected.
“I told Arthur about his mother.”
For the first time, Warren’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Victoria smiled through tears.
“There he is.”
Warren stepped closer.
“You stupid girl.”
“No,” Victoria whispered. “I was stupid when I believed you.”
Warren lifted a hand.
One of his men raised a gun.
Arthur moved.
He fired once from the hallway.
The gun flew from the man’s grip.
Security surged forward.
Chaos exploded.
Victoria dove off the porch as bullets ripped through the doorframe.
Arthur grabbed her and dragged her behind the stone steps.
She was shaking.
“Ten minutes,” she gasped.
Evelyn’s SUV roared from the back road.
The metal box was gone.
Safe.
Arthur looked at Victoria.
“You got eight.”
She laughed once, breathless and broken.
“For me, that’s progress.”
Then Warren’s voice came through the smoke.
“You can keep the box, Arthur.”
Arthur froze.
May you like
Warren smiled at him from across the lawn.
“But you can’t keep the woman inside Saint Orla’s alive.”
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