All Chapters of BLOOD AND ASHES : Chapter 81
- Chapter 90
113 chapters
THE DEVIL’S BARGAIN AT SAINT VENERA
The machine beeped again, its small screen flashing the digits like a silent judge:Amount: 50,000,000.00The fog drifted between the men like a ghost, thick and slow. Davide’s lips twisted in a cruel half-smile, waiting for Tobias to make a fool of himself. Alvaro’s assistant held the terminal, his hands were trembling slightly as the cold morning air cut through the valley.Tobias’s eyes stayed on the screen. Calm. Steady.Then, he spoke.“I wish to pay in installments,” he said quietly, his tone almost conversational. “Because I do not have up to fifty million in my account.”The words fell like a bomb.For a heartbeat, there was silence—pure, stunned silence.Then it broke.Davide Del Mantuno threw his head back and laughed—a sharp, vindictive, humorless sound that echoed across the ruined chapel walls.“You hear that?” he howled, turning to his men. “The man who came here in a black coat, acting like a god—he wants to pay in installments!”The men erupted in laughter—cruel, anim
THE CLAIM OF THE DEAD
The silence that followed Don Esteban’s decree was suffocating.Even the wind seemed afraid to breathe.Alvaro stood frozen, clutching his clipboard like a drowning man grasping driftwood. Davide’s face was pale, his earlier arrogance was reduced to disbelief. Tobias simply watched—his calm expression betraying none of the questions whirling behind his eyes.Don Esteban took another step forward. The gravel under his boots crunched softly, the sound was far too loud for the quiet that hung over the valley.Then, in that same slow, commanding tone, he said,“Unlike what you’ve been told, this land—together with the ruins of Saint Venera—belongs to me.”The statement dropped like a thunderclap in a cathedral.Alvaro blinked rapidly, confusion crossing his face before indignation took hold. “That’s impossible,” he stammered. “With all due respect, sir… this land has been under the jurisdiction of the Ciudad de Sanvelis government for decades.”Don Esteban tilted his head slightly. “Decad
THE SMOKING REVELATION
The fog had not moved.It lingered like a veil over the valley—thick, gray, and uneasy.The silence that followed Don Esteban’s warning was the kind that carried weight. Even the birds seemed to sense the tension and stayed hidden among the trees.Davide Del Mantuno stood there, stiff and uncertain, his mind running wild. His chest rose and fell quickly, anger and confusion were fighting for control. The once-smug smile that had played on his lips during the auction was gone—wiped clean by humiliation.He turned toward Alvaro, his jaw was clenched, his voice was low but burning with fury.“You lied to me.”Alvaro blinked, still shaken from Don Esteban’s dominance. “What?”“You heard me,” Davide growled, taking a step closer. “You lied. You wanted to sell me a property that doesn’t even belong to you or the government! You forged the papers—you wanted to con me!”The accusation hit like a slap. Alvaro’s throat went dry. He raised both hands, trying to speak with the poise of a profess
SECRETS BENEATH THE FOG
Several of Don Esteban’s men stepped forward at once. Their long coats rippled as they reached beneath them. In one synchronized motion, the glint of metal flashed under the fog.Rifles. Shotguns.The air cracked with the sound of bolts being drawn back.Alvaro froze. His assistant’s breath was hitched.The enforcers surrounded them, moving like shadows—silent, trained, merciless.Don Esteban’s voice was calm, dangerously so. “If you ever look at me with that kind of contempt again, Alvaro… you’ll never see daylight again. Do you understand?”It wasn’t a threat. It was law.Alvaro’s entire body trembled. His lips parted but only a whisper came out. “S-Sir… I didn’t mean—”Don Esteban didn’t even blink. He gestured lightly with one hand, and the men tightened their grip on the weapons.The sound alone was enough to make Alvaro’s assistant take a step back, his hands raised halfway in surrender.“I said,” Don Esteban repeated coldly, “do you understand?”“Yes, sir,” Alvaro blurted. His
THE VAULT BENEATH THE CHAPEL
The ruins of Saint Venera stood silent under the fog, their broken arches and faded stone crosses were glowing faintly beneath the pale light of dawn. The air was damp and heavy with age, and the wind whispered through the cracks like a voice from another century.Don Esteban Dorada’s breath came out as a slow plume of smoke as he studied the remnants of the chapel. His sharp eyes drifted over the shattered stained glass windows, the fractured altar, and the vines that crept through the floor like veins of time itself.He turned to Tobias, a faint, knowing smile curling at the edge of his mouth.“I guess we have check out what your father had locked up.”Tobias nodded, the weight of those words sinking into his chest. The name Poderón carried centuries of history—and trouble. Now, a significant part of that history was buried somewhere beneath their feet.Five of Don Esteban’s men followed as they crossed through the broken archway. Their boots echoed on the cracked marble floor, eac
GHOSTS OF GOLD
“Over there,” Tobias said, stepping forward.They approached cautiously, brushing away cobwebs as they went. The more they cleared, the more the door came into view—its surface was thick with rust but still intact. In the center of the door was the Poderón family crest, which was faint but unmistakable.Tobias’s heart thudded in his chest. “He really did it,” he whispered.Don Esteban studied the symbol with quiet reverence. “He was a madman,” he said softly, “but a genius.”The room was silent except for their breathing. Dust floated in the flashlight beams like drifting ash. Tobias reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the golden key he had retrieved from Don Esteban.He knelt in front of the lock, wiping away grime until the keyhole glimmered faintly. His hands trembled slightly as he slid the key in.It didn’t turn.He tried again, forcing it this time. The lock groaned, refusing at first to yield. He gritted his teeth, planting his foot against the iron and twisting harder.
THE WEIGHT OF GOLD
The city below looked like molten glass.Neon veins pulsed through the streets of Ciudad de Sanvelis, alive and sleepless — a city that had forgotten what morality looked like.Inside Don Esteban Dorada's private penthouse lounge, the air was different — slower, heavier, perfumed with aged whiskey and cigar smoke. Velvet curtains swayed against the night breeze, and a faint record played from an old gramophone.Tobias sat across from him, his pulse still echoing with what he had seen underground: mountains of gold, bricks of dollar notes, and diamonds that could blind even a heavenly being.He hadn’t blinked since they left the chapel.Even now, the scent of the vault — dust, rust, and power — clung to him like a ghost.Don Esteban poured two glasses of whiskey and slid one across the table.“Drink,” he said, his tone was calm but sharp. “It helps a man think clearly after touching eternity.”Tobias stared at the amber liquid, then took it, his hand trembling just slightly. “You knew
THE MIRROR JOB
The school had been silent for years.Dust coated the desks like forgotten snow, cobwebs hung from the ceiling fans, and the faint smell of chalk still lingered — the scent of a past life that refused to die.Now, that same building — once a place for learning — had become a war room.Down in the basement, Tobias Sheldon stood before an old blackboard, his sleeves rolled up, the dim light of a single bulb throwing long, jagged shadows across his face. The room was cold, quiet, and full of ghosts.He dragged the side of a piece of chalk across the surface, sketching intersecting lines, circles, and arrows. The sound — that harsh skrip, skrip of chalk — filled the air like a knife sharpening itself.It was no lesson plan this time.It was an architecture of chaos — the kind of plan that could rebuild or destroy an empire.“We don’t kick the door…” Tobias muttered, pausing, his eyes narrowing at the center of the board. He drew a final circle, pressing harder until the chalk snapped. “…w
RUN, GIRL, RUN
The rain fell like shards of broken glass over Sanvelis North.It washed the filth off the streets but never the sins.Cielo leaned forward on her motorcycle, her eyes squinting against the downpour as the neon lights blurred into streaks of color. The roar of her engine echoed through the narrow lanes. Behind her, headlights tore through the fog — three black SUVs, engines growling like wolves closing in on prey.Her heart hammered. The earpiece in her right ear buzzed to life.“Cielo,” a man’s voice said, cold and steady. “Turn yourself in. You know the rules. No courier walks away with Syndicate property.”Her lips curled into a tight smirk. “Then you’ll have to catch me first.”She twisted the throttle. The bike shot forward, water splashing beneath the tires as she darted between a truck and a bus. Horns blared. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t.Behind her, gunfire split the air — flashes of light bouncing off the wet buildings. A bullet grazed her rearview mirror, shattering i
THE MAN IN THE RAIN
Her bike engine sputtered. A warning light blinked red.“Not now,” she muttered. “Please, not now.”Another bullet rang out. The tire burst. The back wheel swung violently, and the bike spun out of control.She flew off the seat, rolled across the ground, and slammed into a pile of metal crates. Pain shot through her arm, but she didn’t scream. She pulled herself up, groaning, and ducked behind a broken car.Footsteps echoed.“She’s down! Spread out!”Their voices cut through the rain.Cielo’s fingers brushed the small pistol holstered at her hip. She pulled it out. The barrel was cold, the magazine almost empty — one bullet left.Her chest rose and fell quickly. She looked up at the sky, rain running down her face.“Guess it’s just you and me,” she whispered to the gun. “Let’s make it count.”She crawled low across the ground, using the wrecks for cover. The assassins were close now — five of them, maybe six. Flashlights swept across the walls.“You picked the wrong night to play her