All Chapters of BLOOD AND ASHES : Chapter 41
- Chapter 50
113 chapters
THE ARITHMETIC OF LIES
On the screen were shipping manifests, all bearing her signature. Each document carried the Dorada insignia — stamped, sealed, and authorized — but the contents were falsified:thousands of barrels of crude oil drawn from Don Esteban’s own export holdings.The records told the story clearly — partial shipments, falsified tonnage, and phantom cargo sold through shadow brokers under private codes that matched her personal authorization ID.Everything — every lie — glowed in quiet accusation from Tobias’s hand.The hall went still. The steward blinked, his face tightening.“That… that’s her name,” he whispered. “Those seals are from the Don’s ledgers.”Lucía’s eyes darted from screen to man, disbelief clouding her face. “No! This is impossible! You forged that—”Tobias scrolled, the glow shifting across his face like firelight.New screens blinked up — timestamps, export logs, routing IDs, encrypted transfers. All drawn straight from the SD card which Elena had left him.“Forged?” Tobias
THE DON AND THE GOLDEN KEY
The air inside the marble corridor was heavy — almost sacred. Every step Tobias took seemed to echo with judgment, each sound was swallowed by the gold-lined walls and towering portraits that looked down like silent witnesses. The scent of aged varnish and rain still clung to his coat mingled faintly with cigar smoke drifting from ahead.He followed the steward deeper into Villa Dorada, his thoughts were a controlled storm. Lucía’s cries still lingered faintly from behind — it was a broken melody of guilt and fear. Tobias didn’t look back. He couldn’t afford to. Not now. Not when he was about to stand before the man whose word could shift the tides of Villa Dorada’s underground world.The steward’s hand pressed softly against his shoulder, halting his pace.“Remember,” he whispered, his voice was low and reverent. “When you see him, you bow. Don Esteban is not a man you stand equal to.”Tobias nodded once. His heart gave a single heavy beat.The double doors then opened.The room b
EL PODERÓN
“Name your price.”Tobias didn’t blink. “Two hundred thousand dollars.”The Don’s smile deepened — not in amusement, but in challenge.“I’ll give you one.”Tobias leaned forward slightly. “One hundred buys you mediocrity. What you’ve tasted is E-13. It touches the blood before it hits the brain.”A faint chuckle rumbled from the Don’s chest. “E-13… I’ve heard whispers.”“Now you can taste truth.”Another pause — long, deliberate. Then Don Esteban nodded once.“One hundred fifty. No more.”Tobias smiled faintly. “Deal.”The Don turned his head slightly. “Prepare the cash.”One enforcer bowed and slipped quietly through a side door.While the other stood by, Tobias clasped his hands, his tone was steady but alert. He had what he came for — access. But the room itself seemed to pulse with more than wealth. His gaze drifted again to the golden key resting against the Don’s chest. He could almost feel it call to him — a silent invitation, a challenge.“How,” Don Esteban asked suddenly, hi
THE KEY AND THE CURSE
The silence in the golden chamber was absolute.Even the fire dared not breathe. Shadows quivered across marble walls as Don Esteban Dorada’s gaze lingered on Tobias like a blade balanced between admiration and suspicion.“Leave us,” the old man said quietly.No one argued.The steward bowed once. The guards, silent as statues, stepped backward through the doors. The last hinge clicked shut, sealing Tobias inside the lion’s den.Only two hearts beat now — one steady as iron, the other thundering with uncertainty.The Don rested back in his chair, his golden key glinting under the low light. “El Poderón,” he murmured again, as if tasting the name.Tobias said nothing. The air itself seemed to lean closer, waiting.A thousand thoughts spun in Tobias’s head, each louder than the last.He could lie — smile, nod, and find a way to escape. Maybe steal the key when the Don looked away. Maybe fight his way out. But he’d seen the guards’ eyes. The men outside were killers. One wrong move, and
THE DEBT OF BLOOD AND GOLD
The Don’s palm slammed against the armrest. The sound cracked through the chamber like thunder.“For years, I’ve poured my fortune into the city of Ciudad de Sanvelis. Loans for hospitals, schools, small traders. I expected modest returns, not miracles.”He leaned forward, eyes burning.“But the profits… they vanish. I see only half of what I should. Fifty percent, Tobias. Half. Every quarter, my ledgers mock me — my balance sheets are drenched in deceit.”His voice trembled, his fury was barely contained.“Someone has been bleeding me dry. Elena was tracing the wound. And now… she’s gone.”The old man’s gaze sharpened.His voice lowered, steady and probing, his eyes narrowing as if searching Tobias’s soul.“But you… I believe you carry what she found, don’t you?”He paused, studying the flicker of emotion in Tobias’s face.“You were her husband, right?”The question hung in the air like a blade — not an accusation, but a revelation waiting to be confirmed.A bead of sweat slid down T
THE ANNALS OF POWER
The corridor beyond the gilded door stretched into silence.Each step Tobias took felt heavier, echoing against walls lined with relics that gleamed under dim candlelight. The air was thick with the scent of cedar and dust — the smell of age and secrets buried too long.Don Esteban Dorada walked ahead, his gait was measured and regal, with the golden key swaying gently with each step. The faint ring of metal against his chest seemed to taunt Tobias — it was a melody of power, of inheritance denied.He followed wordlessly, his heart pounding in rhythm with his steps.At the end of the corridor, a tall oak door loomed. Don Esteban paused, resting his wrinkled hand on its carved surface before pushing it open.The hinges groaned, revealing a room unlike any Tobias had seen in his life.It was warm — unnervingly so — filled with the glow of a fireplace that crackled beside walls crowded with ancient books. Leather-bound volumes stood like silent sentinels. Old maps of Ciudad de Sanvelis
THE PACT OF BLOOD
The fire crackled between them — a steady rhythm against the heavy silence that had fallen in the study. The glow from the hearth threw trembling shadows across Don Esteban’s weathered face, carving the lines of age and sin deeper into his skin. Tobias — or rather, Javier del Poderón — stood across from him, the golden key gleaming against the old man’s chest like a quiet accusation. “Why did my father hand you the key to our family’s fortune?” The question broke the air like glass shattering. Don Esteban’s eyes, clouded by memory yet sharp as ever, lifted slowly toward him. For a moment, he said nothing. He simply poured himself a glass of dark wine, the liquid catching the firelight like blood. Then, quietly, he spoke. “Before I became who I am now, I was nothing more than a criminal. A dangerous one.” Tobias’s eyes narrowed. “A criminal?” Don Esteban nodded. “Convicted for murder,” he said. “The deputy governor of Ciudad de Sanvelis. They said I killed him out o
OATH OF THE GOLDEN KEY
Tobias froze, breath catching.“My father…?”“Andrés Poderón,” Don Esteban said, nodding slowly. “He knew everything about me. My crimes. My skills. My hunger.”“He looked at me — not like a monster, but like a weapon waiting to be used.”The memory softened his tone.“He said, ‘You’ve lived your life taking lives for nothing. I’ll give you a reason to keep doing it — but for justice.’”Don Esteban’s expression grew distant.“He told me he’d been betrayed. His family hunted. His enemies had infiltrated government, industry, and bloodlines. And he… needed someone who could strike without hesitation.”He met Tobias’s eyes, his voice was low but intense.“I became that man. His sword.”The words lingered like smoke.“For the next eight years, I did what I was born to do. I hunted every name Andrés whispered to me. Ministers, bankers, assassins, double agents — anyone who had conspired against the House of Poderón. One hundred and fifty bodies, Tobias. I stopped counting after that. Every
THE FORGOTTEN COORDINATES
The fire had grown tired.Its flames danced weakly, licking the air like an old man’s fading breath. Don Esteban sat in silence, his shadow trembling across the oak walls as though his own soul were trying to escape.Tobias watched him closely. The golden key hung from the old man’s neck, catching the firelight like a heartbeat that refused to die.“Try to remember,” Tobias said, his voice was low but sharp. “Please. You said my father trusted you. Then you owe him this much.”Don Esteban’s eyes fluttered shut. His fingers pressed against his temples as he murmured fragments—numbers, names, places—none of them was whole.“The map…” he whispered. “There was a mountain, a serpent… the sun above the serpent… and below it… machinery—yes—steel and thunder beneath the ground…”His voice cracked. He struck the armrest with his palm, the sound echoing through the chamber.“But it’s gone,” he rasped. “The rest is gone.”Tobias leaned forward. “You remember something—I saw it in your eyes!”“I
THE ROAD OF SHADOWS
He pressed harder on the accelerator. The Corolla surged forward. The motorcycles followed effortlessly.A red light blinked on his dashboard.His fuel was low.Tobias cursed under his breath. “Not now.”He glanced around. The road stretched empty, no stations, no houses—just darkness and dust.The car sputtered once, twice—then the engine coughed and died. The wheels rolled to a halt in the middle of the lonely road.Tobias hit the steering wheel. “Damn it!”Behind him, the motorcycles slowed. Their engines purred softly as they came to a stop just a few meters away.Neither rider removed his helmet. Neither of them spoke. They just sat there, facing him, with the low growl of their engines breaking the silence.Tobias’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. The Corolla sat dead in the middle of the road, its engine was lifeless, its fuel gauge blinking red like a warning from fate.In the rearview mirror, the two motorcycles rolled to a stop several meters behind him. Their engines