The rain hissed louder now, angry and endless, soaking everything it touched. Smoke and thunder rolled together above Ciudad de Sanvelis, turning the skyline into a furnace of shadow and light.Tobias stood there—still, drenched, unmoving—his black coat clinging to him like a second skin. In his hand, the small device kept blinking red, pulsing like a heartbeat in the dark.Luis stared at it, breathing hard, his gun was trembling. “What… what the hell is that thing?”Tobias tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile.“This, this is a surprise for you.”Luis’s men exchanged looks. The three of them shuffled their feet, uncertain whether to shoot or run. The only sound was rain pelting the metal railing, and the faint whimper of the tied-up girls behind them.Tobias’s voice came again—low, steady, and calm enough to be terrifying.“You like surprises, don’t you, Luis? You liked scaring those girls. You liked playing god.”Luis swallowed, the taste of smoke and fear wa

Father Romeo chuckled softly, wiping his tears. “Ah. So that’s what this is about.”He turned fully toward Tobias, resting his palms on the edge of the altar. “You really think she’s mine, despite speaking to you about our history don’t you?”“I think,” Tobias replied, “that you’re a man who hides things behind confessions.”The priest laughed again — a tired, harmless sound. “That young girl has never lived with me in my house, Mr. Sheldon. She stays with her foster parents. She only comes here to help with the choir, clean the pews, and assist the sisters.”Tobias’s expression didn’t change.Father Romeo walked a few steps closer, the crucifix towering above them both. “As I told you, I saved her years ago from Saint Celia’s,” he continued quietly. “She was abandoned — half-starved, terrified. I brought her here, gave her to a couple in the congregation to raise. But she never stopped calling me Father. I tried to let her go, but she refused.”His gaze softened. “There’s a bond that

By morning, the rain had thinned to mist.Tobias’s car tore through the fog-choked countryside, its engine coughing against the cold. The dashboard clock read 5:12 A.M. and his phone screen glowed faintly with a cruel truth: Account balance — $7.82 million.He smirked to himself. Seven dollars or seven million — influence still spends better than money.The folded parchment lay beside him, next to Elena’s coded note — the one Camila Orantes had given him, the folded paper containing the code he smuggled out of Delgado’s desk. The triangulated coordinates lined up perfectly with the map Father Romeo had given him.Two trails. One truth.When the first light of dawn bled over the horizon, the ruins appeared — half-swallowed by the fog like a cathedral of ghosts.The place looked older than memory itself.Stone walls blackened by fire still stood, cracked and bent beneath creeping vines. A single steeple rose like a finger of ash pointing to the heavens.Broken angels lined the pathway,

The laughter came first.Loud, cruel, echoing through the ruins of Saint Venera like a choir of jackals.Davide Del Mantuno’s cigar shook between his fingers as he pointed at Tobias, laughter spilling from his mouth until tears gathered in his eyes.“Good Lord,” he choked between gasps. “You’ve finally gone mad, Sheldon! Tell me, what do they feed you at that run-down school of yours—ghost stories?”The men around him erupted again. Their laughter rolled through the mist, bouncing off the blackened chapel walls. Even Alvaro Mendez de Larios, the property negotiator, smiled behind his restraint.Tobias didn’t flinch. He stood still, his coat stirring faintly in the cold wind, his eyes were fixed on Davide like a hawk studying prey that didn’t know it was being hunted.Davide smirked and gestured broadly. “Look at him—wandering among ruins and talking in riddles. Tell me, gentlemen, doesn’t he sound like a priest who’s lost his sermon?”One of Davide’s bodyguards snorted. “Are you sure

The mist hadn’t moved.It hung over the valley like a veil of ghosts—dense, watchful, unblinking.And in that cold silence, Tobias Sheldon’s voice cut through like a blade.“Let’s begin. I’m ready.”The words were simple, but the tone behind them was something else—steady, lethal, calm as a loaded gun on a table.Alvaro blinked once, the corners of his lips twitching. He straightened his jacket, forcing himself to sound composed. “Very well,” he said, glancing at his assistant. “Let the bidding commence.”The assistant nodded, adjusting his notepad with trembling hands. “Starting at seven million,” he announced. His voice cracked on the number.“Eight million,” Davide snapped immediately. His chin was raised, confidence flickering back into his expression. He gave Tobias a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes.“Nine million,” Tobias replied, without a blink.There was no hesitation. No show of calculation. Just that single, sharp word that sliced through the fog like thunder.Alvaro