No flowers for the dead - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
You are reading No flowers for the dead, Chapter 9: Chapter 9. Read more chapters of No flowers for the dead.
Elias was already awake when the sun broke over the city.
He hadn’t slept.
Alina lay curled beside him, her breath steady against his chest, the rise and fall of her body a quiet mercy he wasn’t sure he deserved anymore.
He watched her in the golden morning light—skin bare, hair tangled, heart unguarded.
It was the most dangerous thing in his world.
Not the board. Not the empire. Not his father’s legacy.
Her.
Because she reminded him of everything he could lose.
But she also reminded him why he wouldn’t stop fighting.
⸻
Alina woke to find him sitting at the edge of the bed, shirtless, scrolling through his phone. His expression was unreadable.
She reached for him. “Is it bad?”
“They leaked the Estrella fund,” he said flatly. “And one of my partners is walking. The rest are circling like vultures.”
She sat up slowly, the sheets falling around her waist. “What are you going to do?”
He turned to her, eyes darker than she’d ever seen them.
“I’m going to finish this.”
⸻
Later that day, Elias met his father at the private golf estate outside of the city—the place where they always brokered ugly truths in beautiful silence.
“You’ve made quite the mess,” the older man said as they stood by the ninth hole.
Elias didn’t flinch. “You made the mess. I just stopped pretending I wanted to clean it.”
His father’s grip on the golf club tightened. “You walked away from everything that was built for you.”
“No,” Elias said coldly. “I walked toward something real.”
The older man studied him. “The girl?”
“She has a name.”
“She’s a liability.”
“She’s the only reason I haven’t burned this whole fucking empire to the ground.”
His father didn’t raise his voice. He never had to. “You’re emotional. Reckless. You think this ends with you and that girl living in a villa somewhere, free of all this?”
“I think it ends when you realize you can’t control me anymore.”
There was a long pause.
Then, his father leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “They won’t let you go, Elias. And they won’t touch you directly—not yet. But her?”
Elias froze.
“She’s soft,” the old man said. “That’s where they’ll start.”
Elias left the estate without another word, his knuckles white around the steering wheel all the way back to the city.
He drove fast.
Too fast.
Because rage blurred everything but her.
⸻
When he arrived at the penthouse, Alina was gone.
At first, he didn’t panic. She often took morning walks or went to the bookstore three blocks down. But something was wrong.
Her phone was still charging on the nightstand.
Her jacket still hung by the door.
There was no note. No message.
No sign.
Just absence.
He stood in the center of the room, heart pounding, mouth dry, a thousand possibilities screaming in his head.
Then, the intercom buzzed.
He crossed the room like a man possessed and answered.
No one spoke.
Only a voice recording played on loop:
“She doesn’t belong to you. She never did.”
Then silence.
Then static.
Then—
A scream.
His.
He hadn’t slept.
Alina lay curled beside him, her breath steady against his chest, the rise and fall of her body a quiet mercy he wasn’t sure he deserved anymore.
He watched her in the golden morning light—skin bare, hair tangled, heart unguarded.
It was the most dangerous thing in his world.
Not the board. Not the empire. Not his father’s legacy.
Her.
Because she reminded him of everything he could lose.
But she also reminded him why he wouldn’t stop fighting.
⸻
Alina woke to find him sitting at the edge of the bed, shirtless, scrolling through his phone. His expression was unreadable.
She reached for him. “Is it bad?”
“They leaked the Estrella fund,” he said flatly. “And one of my partners is walking. The rest are circling like vultures.”
She sat up slowly, the sheets falling around her waist. “What are you going to do?”
He turned to her, eyes darker than she’d ever seen them.
“I’m going to finish this.”
⸻
Later that day, Elias met his father at the private golf estate outside of the city—the place where they always brokered ugly truths in beautiful silence.
“You’ve made quite the mess,” the older man said as they stood by the ninth hole.
Elias didn’t flinch. “You made the mess. I just stopped pretending I wanted to clean it.”
His father’s grip on the golf club tightened. “You walked away from everything that was built for you.”
“No,” Elias said coldly. “I walked toward something real.”
The older man studied him. “The girl?”
“She has a name.”
“She’s a liability.”
“She’s the only reason I haven’t burned this whole fucking empire to the ground.”
His father didn’t raise his voice. He never had to. “You’re emotional. Reckless. You think this ends with you and that girl living in a villa somewhere, free of all this?”
“I think it ends when you realize you can’t control me anymore.”
There was a long pause.
Then, his father leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “They won’t let you go, Elias. And they won’t touch you directly—not yet. But her?”
Elias froze.
“She’s soft,” the old man said. “That’s where they’ll start.”
Elias left the estate without another word, his knuckles white around the steering wheel all the way back to the city.
He drove fast.
Too fast.
Because rage blurred everything but her.
⸻
When he arrived at the penthouse, Alina was gone.
At first, he didn’t panic. She often took morning walks or went to the bookstore three blocks down. But something was wrong.
Her phone was still charging on the nightstand.
Her jacket still hung by the door.
There was no note. No message.
No sign.
Just absence.
He stood in the center of the room, heart pounding, mouth dry, a thousand possibilities screaming in his head.
Then, the intercom buzzed.
He crossed the room like a man possessed and answered.
No one spoke.
Only a voice recording played on loop:
“She doesn’t belong to you. She never did.”
Then silence.
Then static.
Then—
A scream.
His.
End of No flowers for the dead Chapter 9. Continue reading Chapter 10 or return to No flowers for the dead book page.