All Chapters of BLOOD AND ASHES : Chapter 61
- Chapter 70
113 chapters
WHEN POWER BLEEDS
“Are you the man Tobias Sheldon?”The question landed like a challenge carved into the heat. The enforcer’s breath reeked of rum and stale smoke; his hand hovered near his jacket where the shape of a gun bulged like a promise.Tobias raised his eyes—steady, unreadable. “Yes,” he said. “I am.”For a heartbeat the world held still. Then the man’s lips curled into something between a sneer and respect. He jerked his head toward the club door. “Inside.”La Luna Roja was a throat of sound and light. Music pulsed through Tobias’s ribs; sweat and perfume tangled in the air. The enforcer’s palm pressed between his shoulder blades, steering him forward through the writhing bodies.Patrons parted without being told. They recognized power—or danger—and the sight of Tobias’s calm face under that black coat unsettled them. Neon spilled over the faint crow stitched at his shoulder; whispers rippled in his wake.At the far end of the hall a red curtain split. A corridor waited beyond, cool and silen
ASHES REMEMBER
Tobias smiled, teeth red. “Let’s say a friend of mine prepared something special. Documents. Transfers. Videos. The ledgers that trace every fake charity, every gold deal you’ve laundered through your so-called foundation.”A bead of sweat slid down Delgado’s temple.“Lies.”“Then pull the trigger,” Tobias said. “And watch the lies become headlines.”Tobias’s tone hardened, his grin faded into something colder.“You really thought the fire ended it, didn’t you?” he said, taking a slow step forward. “That night when your men broke into the evidence room, when the officers you bribed poured gasoline on the files and danced around the flames like it was some holy cleansing.”Delgado’s jaw tightened, his finger twitching near the trigger.“I was there,” Tobias continued, his voice cutting through the air. “Not close enough to stop them, but close enough to record every second. You wanted to erase your sins, but I made sure the ashes remembered.”Delgado swallowed hard, his throat moving v
THE NUMBER FROM THE VAULT
The morning sun spilled weakly through the blinds, cutting slanted lines across Tobias Sheldon’s table — a battlefield of papers, burnt coffee, and sleepless thoughts.He sat there in his black coat, the same one still streaked with blood from last night’s encounter with Senator Delgado. The world outside was quiet, but inside him, something kept roaring — suspicion.Before him lay the crumpled courier manifest he had stolen from Delgado’s desk. He flattened it with both hands, the smell of bourbon faint on its corner. The paper was worn, the ink half-faded — Warehouse Code: C-93BLLC8.He’d read those numbers a dozen times already. Yet something about the faint scribbles along the margin wouldn’t leave him alone.He squinted.Beneath the printed coordinates was something handwritten — barely visible under a fold of the paper. He reached for his phone light and tilted the sheet.A phone number appeared, scrawled in thin, rushed handwriting.It looked… familiar. Too familiar.Tobias fro
THE CONFESSION THAT NEVER HAPPENED
Fifteen minutes later, the parish came into view — a modest structure of red bricks and stained glass framed by palm trees. The bell tower cast a long shadow over the parking lot.Tobias parked, stepped out, and inhaled deeply. The air smelled of incense and old prayers.As he crossed the courtyard, a nun greeted him politely. He nodded and went straight to the chapel doors. Inside, candles flickered beside a statue of the Virgin Mary, and soft hymns drifted from hidden speakers.He approached the altar and spoke quietly to an assistant. “I’d like to see Father Romeo. For confession.”The young man nodded. “Please wait here.”Moments later, a door creaked open near the sacristy, and Father Romeo stepped out.He looked older. The once-dark hair had silvered, his face was lined with exhaustion. But what caught Tobias off guard was his expression — not surprise, not joy — but something that looked a lot like fear.“Father,” Tobias said softly.The priest nodded, his voice muted. “Follow
THE THREAT IN THE CHAPEL
The engine roared outside like an approaching storm.Father Romeo froze mid-sentence, his eyes flicking toward the window. The flicker of candles painted his face with trembling gold.Tobias turned his head slowly, his instincts prickling. “You expecting someone, Father?”The priest didn’t answer. His lips moved in a silent prayer, his knuckles turned white around the small cross hanging from his neck.Then came the low growl of tires against gravel — deep, deliberate, predatory. A black van rolled to a stop in front of the parish gate, its engine purring like a beast that had just found its prey.Father Romeo’s voice broke the silence, hoarse and shaken. “Stay here, my son. Please. Stay here and say nothing.”He rose, clutching his prayer book to his chest as though it could protect him. The old wooden doors groaned as he stepped out into the daylight.Tobias remained in the shadows of the chapel, his gaze following the priest through the narrow crack of the confessional door. The sc
LIGHT DRAWS SHADOWS
The air inside the chapel felt heavier now, like the walls themselves were holding their breath. The silence after the van’s departure didn’t bring peace — it brought the kind of quiet that comes before lightning strikes.Father Romeo stood frozen in the doorway, one hand clutching the wooden frame for balance. His prayer book lay in the dust, pages fluttering under the lazy spin of the ceiling fan. Tobias walked closer, boots echoing across the cracked marble floor.“Sit,” Tobias said quietly.The priest sank into the nearest pew, his face was pale and broken. A thin trail of blood ran from the corner of his lip to his chin. His hands shook as he reached for his rosary.Tobias crouched in front of him. “Who were those men?”Father Romeo swallowed hard, his voice was barely above a whisper. “People I never should’ve known.”Tobias’s gaze darkened. “They didn’t look like people who just drop by for prayer.”The priest closed his eyes, trembling. “They… came because of my daughter.”Tob
THIRTY THOUSAND PRAYERS
Tobias stopped. “What do you mean?”“She disappeared.”The priest’s voice cracked. “Two days later, Luis called me. He said he had her. He said she was alive — for now. And then he laughed.”The old man looked up, tears glistening like sweat. “He demanded fifty thousand dollars. Said if I didn’t pay, I’d never see her again. Said she’d be sold off, forced into the streets as a sex worker against her wish.”Tobias stared at him, his expression was unreadable. “Fifty thousand dollars.”Father Romeo nodded, the shame deepening every word. “I told him I didn’t have that kind of money. This chapel isn’t poor, but it isn’t wealthy either. Even with all our offerings, weddings, and donations, we barely touch forty thousand dollars a year. Most of it goes into feeding families, maintaining the orphanage wing, and keeping the lights on. Fifty thousand… that’s more than a year’s blood and sweat. It’s everything we earn and more.”"This is serious." Tobias sighed."He said I’d better find it… or
THE NIGHT OF THE TRAFFICKERS
The music inside Club Azul hit like thunder — a deep, dirty bass shaking the red lights that blinked over the dancers. Smoke rolled thick across the room, crawling between tables and half-empty bottles. The air smelled of cheap perfume, whiskey, and desperation.Tobias sat alone in a corner booth, half-shadowed by the crimson glow of a neon sign that read “Heaven’s Edge.” The irony wasn’t lost on him. He swirled his drink, eyes cold, steady, and fixed on the VIP lounge at the far end of the room.He didn’t come here for the show. He came to hunt.From his seat, Tobias watched Luis — the same name the priest had whispered with fear. Luis sat comfortably in the VIP area, cigarette in hand, laughing with a plump middle-aged man who looked to be in his late fifties. The man’s gold watch flashed with every flick of his hand. Around them were three women — all young, all dressed in clothes that weren’t meant for comfort, and all wearing the same dead expression behind painted smiles.But on
THE SAINT IN THE RAIN
Tobias said nothing.Luis’s grin sharpened. “Oh, this is rich.” He raised his voice so everyone could hear. “The priest’s watchdog! What—he sent you to fetch his pet?”The thugs laughed. One slapped his thigh. “Look at him—standing in the rain trying to play hero.”“Yeah,” another said, “maybe he wants to join the merchandise.”Tobias’s voice cut through their laughter. “Behave like human beings—with conscience. They’re just girls. You were born from women too.”Luis smirked wider, he looked unbothered. “Conscience? That’s for men with full pockets. Out here, conscience gets you killed.”One of his men sneered. “You hearing this preacher? Wants to save the world.”“Maybe we should baptize him,” another added. “Right here in the mud.”Luis laughed hard. “Go on, hero,” he said, stepping closer until their faces were inches apart. “You want to be their savior? Make a move. Let’s see how far that conscience gets you.”The van’s engine idled behind them, headlights spilled pale light over
THE RED RIGHT HAND
The rain didn’t stop.It came harder now, thick and merciless, drumming against the windshield of the van as it tore through the night. The streets of Ciudad de Sanvelis gleamed like broken glass, every puddle reflecting the blur of neon lights. Inside the van, the air was heavy — the kind of air that made lungs ache.Luis sat in the passenger seat, one hand dangling out of the window, a cigarette clamped between his teeth. His grin looked painted on, stretched too tight over his face.“Man of God my ass,” he muttered, blowing out smoke. “Should’ve put that clown down when I had the chance.”His men laughed from the back. Three of them — thick-necked, jittery, their eyes darting between the rain and the three young women huddled in silence. The girls’ wrists were tied with rope, their faces pale under the flicker of passing streetlights. The priest’s daughter sat closest to the window, watching the city smear by like a fever dream.“Boss,” one of the men said, “that preacher’s eyes… t