No flowers for the dead - Chapter 10: Chapter 10
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The room tilted.
Elias stood frozen, the echo of the scream still vibrating in his chest long after the recording stopped.
It wasn’t Alina’s voice—but that only made it worse.
It meant they hadn’t hurt her… yet.
It meant they were toying with him.
He called her name, once, into the empty air of the apartment.
No answer.
The city lights outside blinked with indifference, the world continuing its quiet spin as if nothing had been stolen from it.
But Elias knew.
He knew exactly who had taken her.
And he knew what he would become to get her back.
⸻
She came to in the backseat of a car.
Blinding sunlight. The hum of the road. Leather that smelled too clean.
Alina blinked, her wrists heavy with metal.
Handcuffs.
“Good. You’re awake.”
The voice came from the front seat. Calm. British. Female.
“Who are you?” Alina rasped.
The driver didn’t turn. “Let’s call me an intervention.”
“You’re from them.” Her voice sharpened, a bitter edge rising.
“I’m from the people who think Elias Vale needs a reminder of what he owes.”
“He doesn’t owe you anything.”
“No,” the woman said. “But you? You were never part of the contract.”
⸻
Elias didn’t go to the police.
He didn’t call security.
He made one call—to the man who’d once buried a scandal involving the Vale patriarch and a missing mistress in Monaco.
A man who only answered for one thing:
Debt.
By midnight, Elias was inside a blacked-out car speeding through the south edge of the city, a gun in the glove compartment and fury in his blood.
“She’s not a message,” he said. “She’s not a pawn.”
The fixer didn’t answer.
Because there was no comfort left to give.
⸻
Alina stared out the window of the unfamiliar estate where they kept her.
She wasn’t in chains.
They didn’t yell.
They didn’t beat her.
They just waited.
Waited for Elias to come unglued.
They didn’t know he already had.
⸻
Back in the city, Elias stood in an abandoned warehouse beside the man who once helped his father disappear a witness.
“We have thirty-six hours,” the fixer said. “After that, they move her overseas.”
Elias nodded once.
Then he slid the gun from the glove box and loaded it in silence.
“You’re going to war with your blood,” the man warned.
Elias’s voice was ice.
“No,” he said. “I’m going to war for her.”
And he meant it.
Because in every empire, there comes a moment when the crown is too heavy, the legacy too rotted, and the only thing left worth saving… is the heart you tried to keep hidden from it all.
Elias stood frozen, the echo of the scream still vibrating in his chest long after the recording stopped.
It wasn’t Alina’s voice—but that only made it worse.
It meant they hadn’t hurt her… yet.
It meant they were toying with him.
He called her name, once, into the empty air of the apartment.
No answer.
The city lights outside blinked with indifference, the world continuing its quiet spin as if nothing had been stolen from it.
But Elias knew.
He knew exactly who had taken her.
And he knew what he would become to get her back.
⸻
She came to in the backseat of a car.
Blinding sunlight. The hum of the road. Leather that smelled too clean.
Alina blinked, her wrists heavy with metal.
Handcuffs.
“Good. You’re awake.”
The voice came from the front seat. Calm. British. Female.
“Who are you?” Alina rasped.
The driver didn’t turn. “Let’s call me an intervention.”
“You’re from them.” Her voice sharpened, a bitter edge rising.
“I’m from the people who think Elias Vale needs a reminder of what he owes.”
“He doesn’t owe you anything.”
“No,” the woman said. “But you? You were never part of the contract.”
⸻
Elias didn’t go to the police.
He didn’t call security.
He made one call—to the man who’d once buried a scandal involving the Vale patriarch and a missing mistress in Monaco.
A man who only answered for one thing:
Debt.
By midnight, Elias was inside a blacked-out car speeding through the south edge of the city, a gun in the glove compartment and fury in his blood.
“She’s not a message,” he said. “She’s not a pawn.”
The fixer didn’t answer.
Because there was no comfort left to give.
⸻
Alina stared out the window of the unfamiliar estate where they kept her.
She wasn’t in chains.
They didn’t yell.
They didn’t beat her.
They just waited.
Waited for Elias to come unglued.
They didn’t know he already had.
⸻
Back in the city, Elias stood in an abandoned warehouse beside the man who once helped his father disappear a witness.
“We have thirty-six hours,” the fixer said. “After that, they move her overseas.”
Elias nodded once.
Then he slid the gun from the glove box and loaded it in silence.
“You’re going to war with your blood,” the man warned.
Elias’s voice was ice.
“No,” he said. “I’m going to war for her.”
And he meant it.
Because in every empire, there comes a moment when the crown is too heavy, the legacy too rotted, and the only thing left worth saving… is the heart you tried to keep hidden from it all.
End of No flowers for the dead Chapter 10. Continue reading Chapter 11 or return to No flowers for the dead book page.