2025-02-08 04:47:53
Previous Chapter
Related Chapters
Cinders of the Conspiracy Chapter 11
Shadows in the Warehouse.The warehouse stood out in front of them, skeleton in the moonlight. Silas guided Eleanor to the entrance, his movements slow and methodical, and the air was heavy with the smell of iron and saltwater.He checked the address against the coded message and said, "This is the place."Eleanor rubbed her arms against the chill and let out a breath. "It appears to be deserted."Silas remarked, "Looks lie."They walked up to the rusty metal door, which was scuffed from years of uselessness. When Silas tested the handle, it groaned and swung inward into a void of darkness.Through the darkness, a flashlight sparked to life in Silas's grasp. In the stuffy air, dust particles swirled and settled on top of the crates that were heaped carelessly along the walls.Beside him, Eleanor moved in, her gaze sweeping the room. "Where is everyone if this was Hartwell's operation?"Silas looked around the floor. In the dust, footprints. new. It had been visited recently.As he mov
Cinders of the Conspiracy Chapter 12
A Narrow Escape.Eleanor's raspy breath was muffled by Silas's hard palm over her mouth as he slammed her against the warehouse's chilly steel wall. In the dim light of a single hanging bulb, shadows danced beneath them. The two men's voices were piercing and suspicious as they prowled like wolves."You also heard it," someone whispered.The other gave a grunt. "They might have been rats."Sensing the tremble in Eleanor's veins, Silas tightened his hold on her wrist. His breath warmed her ear as he drew closer. "Remain motionless."She nodded, small gulps rising and falling in her chest.Eleanor felt her pulse thumping with a sudden collision. The contents of a crate spilled into the concrete after one of the men kicked it over. The air was filled with the strong smell of whiskey as glass broke.The first man growled, "Damn it." "If anything is missing, Hartwell is going to kill us."The second guy moved toward the containers. "Then, let's confirm that nobody else is present."Silas's
Cinders of the Conspiracy Chapter 13
The Speakeasy Connection.Only a flickering lantern above a rusting steel door indicated the speakeasy's entrance, which was concealed behind a boarded-up storefront. A mingling of sensuous jazz and murmured discussions filled the air inside. In between the faint light of low-hanging chandeliers, smoke curled from cigarettes and cigars.Eleanor clung to his side while Silas rearranged his coat and looked around the room. "Remain vigilant," he whispered to himself. "Violet Prescott is more than just a bar owner. She is the head of an empire.Eleanor's gaze strayed to the bar, where a woman swirling a glass of whiskey was leaning against the counter wearing a sleek, dark-red dress. Violet Prescott's blond locks framed her piercing, perceptive eyes.Violet smirked and tipped her drink as if she could sense their eyes, then slid toward them with a smooth, deliberate gait.She purred, her voice as soft as ancient bourbon, "Well, well." Hawthorne, Silas. I didn't believe you were stupid eno
Cinders of the Conspiracy Chapter 14
An Ally in Shadows.As if to stabilize herself, Violet's fingertips traced across the polished mahogany bar as she stepped behind it. Except for the bartender cleaning glasses and the occasional chuckle from the back rooms, the speakeasy was mostly deserted now. With a deep exhale, she raised her gaze to Silas and Eleanor, her keen eyes sweeping their faces.At last, she stated in a measured, low voice, "There's a shipment." "Hartwell has a significant arrival at the docks. Something more than whiskey. Something more substantial.With his elbows resting on the counter, Silas leaned forward. "How are you aware?"Violet grinned, but it was a fake smile. "Because I set it up."Eleanor tensed. "You're involved in his scheme?"Violet gave an eye roll. Don't be naïve, my love. In this city, you can't operate a speakeasy without closing deals. Additionally, for men like Hartwell, survival comes before wants.Silas scowled. "When will it be shipped?""Tonight, tomorrow. Midnight. Pier 17. Wit
Cinders of the Conspiracy Chapter 15
A Betrayal Close to Home.When Silas and Eleanor arrived, the office was dark. They were still burdened by the disclosures of the night. Eleanor's determination was weakened by a nagging uncertainty as Crowe's comments replayed in her head. They had been deceived by someone close to her.She refused to accept it.Silas was the first to stir, igniting the oil lamp on his desk with a match. Long shadows were created against the walls by the illumination, which illuminated the strewn documents and open ledgers, the remains of their frantic search.Then she noticed it.On the desk, a piece of parchment, carefully folded. It had only her name, written in Margaret Hollow's curled calligraphy, and no seal or marks.Silas saw that she hesitated. "Eleanor?"She didn't respond. Her breath caught in her throat as she read the lines written in hastily drawn pen, and her fingers shook as she unfolded the paper.This is not what I intended to occur. There was nothing I could do.Her veins became ic
Cinders of the Conspiracy Chapter 16
The Enforcer Strikes.The forms of Silas and Eleanor were stretched against the damaged wallpaper by the uncanny shadows created by the weak brightness of a solitary desk lamp. The chamber smelled of old paper and cigar smoke that clung to the wooden beams above, and the air was thick with dust. The map was spread out on the desk, its edges yellowed and wrinkled with age, its lines jagged and crisscrossing like wounds, engraved with mysterious symbols.Eyes narrowing, Silas ran a gloved finger over the marks. It's more than simply a map. A ledger is what it is. Notice how each symbol corresponds to the dates of shipping. The quiet between them was filled with his voice, a whisper tinged with desperation.Eleanor leaned forward, the smell of old paper blending with her perfume. With her breath vanishing into his ear, she questioned, "And the storage facility?"Silas touched a specific spot, a remote location close to the docks, tucked away in the city's industrial fringes. "This is it.
Cinders of the Conspiracy Chapter 17
The Hunter and the Hunted.On the outskirts of the city, the safe home was concealed behind a dilapidated brick facade. The alleyway was deserted, with the windows thickly veiled and the flickering streetlamps providing very little illumination. Violet Prescott unlocked the door, her face reserved, but Silas held tight to Eleanor's hand."Enter. "Quickly," she said, her voice barely above the sirens' distant cries.At the threshold, Eleanor paused, looking back toward the slums of the city from which they had just fled. Jasper Crowe didn't let his victims get away with it. A chill ran down her spine as she felt the weight of invisible eyes crushing on her back.With his mouth clenched, Silas pushed her forward. "Time is not on our side."The smell of dust and old paper filled the stuffy air within. With only one oil lamp on the table, the room was faintly lighted, and the crumbling wallpaper was covered in long, slack shadows. The area had the appearance of a lost war chamber, with a
Cinders of the Conspiracy Chapter 18
A Name in the Shadows.The oil lamp's faint glimmer created lengthy shadows on the wooden walls, adding to the tense atmosphere in the safe house. With the battered ledger spread out in front of him and his fingers clutching its fragile pages, Silas stood by the flimsy table. After reading the final entry, he had fallen quiet, his jaw muscles clenching like a vice and his entire body tense.Eleanor kept a close eye on him, holding her breath as though the slightest movement might throw him into a tailspin. She stepped closer and said gently, "Silas."His mouth opened, but it was a moment before he made a sound. His voice was low, almost guttural, when he finally spoke. "Draven Wyatt."The name echoed up and down the room like a hammer. The ensuing quiet was colder than the night air seeping through the wooden shutters' gaps.Eleanor scowled. "Who is he?"With a short breath, Silas ran a hand through his untidy, black hair. "He works as a detective," he whispered. "A good one—at least
Latest Chapter
Chapter 100
The Price of Justice.Eleanor gritted her teeth as she slammed her back against the metal crates, gripping the pistol tighter in her hands. The warehouse was a warzone, gunfire ricocheted off steel, shouting filled the air, and the acrid scent of smoke stung her nose.She stole a glance around the corner. Five men, heavily armed. Hartwell’s remaining enforcers, the last line protecting his precious shipment.Her radio crackled. “Eleanor, we’re almost there,” Silas’s voice, weak but determined. “Hold them off.”Her eyes flickered toward the metal briefcase near the truck. The evidence. Documents, transaction logs, everything they needed to bring Hartwell down.The men advanced.She took a breath, steadying her aim. Then, she moved.Two shots. The first took out the closest man, his rifle clattering to the ground. The second hit another in the leg not enough.He swung his weapon toward her, but Eleanor was faster. She lunged, knocking him off balance, slamming the butt of her gun into h
Chapter 99
Race Against Time.The air in the dimly lit motel room was thick with tension. Papers littered the small wooden table, maps marked with frantic scribbles. A single laptop screen glowed, casting eerie shadows over the determined faces surrounding it.Silas leaned forward, his knuckles pressed against the table. His voice was low, commanding. “Hartwell is moving the shipment by train. We intercept at the junction near Brighton before he reaches the border.”The FBI agent, Calloway, nodded. His grizzled face betrayed years of experience. “We’ll have tactical units in place, but we need a precise point of entry. If we storm in too early, he’ll vanish again. Too late, and the shipment’s gone.”Margaret pointed to a section on the map. “Here. The terrain forces the train to slow. It’s the only place we’ll have a real shot.”Eleanor, arms crossed, locked eyes with Silas. “And if he’s waiting for us?”Silas exhaled through his nose. “Then we play it smart.”A knock at the door. Three slow tap
Chapter 98
Hartwell’s Vanishing Act.The night pressed heavy against the city, the neon glow of streetlights barely reaching the shadowed corners of the safe house. Silas paced, phone pressed against his ear, pulse hammering. Across the room, Eleanor sat rigid, eyes locked on him, waiting for answers.A voice crackled through the line. Agent Calloway. His tone was flat, but the urgency was undeniable.“He’s gone underground, Silas. And not alone. Hartwell has federal protection. High-ranking officials are helping him disappear.”Silas clenched his jaw. “You’re telling me we lost him because some corrupt bastards are covering his tracks?”“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Calloway confirmed. “This isn’t just a syndicate anymore. It’s bigger than we thought. Someone with power wants Hartwell alive.”Eleanor stood, tension rolling off her in waves. “Did you track his last movements?”Calloway hesitated. “That’s the problem. He didn’t leave the city.”Silas exhaled sharply. “What?”“He’s here.
Chapter 97
The Chaos Unleashed.The grand ballroom had become a war zone. Shattered glass crunched beneath fleeing footsteps, chairs overturned, bodies surged toward the exits. Screams rang through the air, blending into the shrill alarm that pulsed through the speakers.Silas gritted his teeth as he pushed forward, gripping Eleanor’s wrist. The crowd was moving against them, bodies pressing in from all sides. They had to reach Hartwell before he disappeared into the chaos.“There!” Eleanor pointed.Through the shifting sea of people, Hartwell’s silver-gray suit stood out as he moved toward a side door, two armed men flanking him. His face was calm, too calm. He knew something they didn’t.Silas didn’t hesitate. He surged forward, shoving a man out of his way, ignoring the protests. Eleanor followed, eyes sharp, lips pressed together in a thin line. They were running out of time.Then, a gunshot.A chandelier shattered overhead, sending shards raining down. The crowd screamed louder, panicking f
Chapter 96
The Celebration’s Cover-Up.The ballroom was a spectacle of wealth, crystal chandeliers dripping with gold light, violins weaving a delicate symphony above the murmuring crowd. Silas adjusted the cuff of his suit, the unfamiliar fabric tight against his skin. He hated events like these. Too many eyes, too many masks.Eleanor, draped in a floor-length black gown that clung to her form like shadow, moved beside him, a vision of elegance. But Silas knew better. She was a blade wrapped in silk, sharp and waiting.With her lips hardly moving, she held a champagne glass and said, "Calm down." "You should be a journalist, not a man on his way to death." Silas exhaled, scanning the room. Too many familiar faces, men he’d rather see behind bars.Near the bar, a cluster of men stood huddled in hushed conversation. Their suits were expensive, their postures rigid. Syndicate men.Silas angled his body toward them, listening.“…shipment lands tomorrow. Late night drop.”“Security?”“Tighter than
Chapter 95
The Safe House Secrets.Margaret pulled open the rusted cabinet doors, her breath shallow as a cloud of dust erupted into the air. The safe house had been untouched for years, but the lingering presence of recent intruders suggested otherwise.Wyatt knelt beside her, flashlight aimed at the back of the cabinet. “There’s something here.” His fingers brushed against a loose panel, and with a firm tug, the wood gave way, revealing a metal lockbox.Margaret glanced toward the door, paranoia curling around her spine. “We need to move fast.”Wyatt nodded, pulling his switchblade from his boot and jamming it into the lock. The steel creaked, resisting, but after a few forceful twists, the mechanism snapped.Inside, stacks of documents lay in neat, organized rows, ledgers, transaction records, names.Margaret’s stomach twisted.“These aren’t just records,” she whispered, flipping through the pages. The names were tagged with locations, New York, Chicago, Atlanta, Los Angeles. It wasn’t just a
Chapter 94
The Informant’s Shadow.Silas paced the dimly lit hotel room, the weight of Delano’s warning pressing on him like a vice. His thoughts churned, replaying every conversation, every movement within their group. Someone had been feeding Hartwell information. But who?Eleanor sat on the edge of the bed, her arms crossed. “You’re being paranoid,” she said, watching Silas with narrowed eyes. “We’ve been through hell together. No one in our group would sell us out.”Silas ceased his pacing. Then describe how Hartwell constantly appears to be ahead of the game. How was the gala known to him? The penetration of the office? Why did Crowe's soldiers wait at the docks for us? He let out a breath and wiped his face. "If we don't find out who is telling him everything, we're dead." Eleanor shook her head. “Margaret would never betray us. She’s risked her life more than once.”Silas clenched his jaw. “I’m not saying it’s Margaret.”Eleanor stiffened. “Then who?”Silas hesitated. His gut twisted as
Chapter 93
Behind Enemy Lines.Silas adjusted his bowtie, scanning the glittering crowd with practiced ease. A jazz band played soft notes from the far end of the ballroom, masking the hum of conversation. The air was thick with wealth and power, business moguls and politicians clinking glasses, exchanging handshakes that meant deals far deadlier than anyone here would admit.Eleanor, in a sleek black gown, moved beside him, her expression calm but eyes constantly shifting. She looked every bit the poised journalist she was pretending to be. “Keep walking,” she murmured. “Eyes forward. Don’t react.”Silas followed her gaze. A security team had just entered from the side doors, Crowe’s men. Dressed in suits, but their stiff postures and wary glances gave them away. They weren’t here to mingle. They were hunting.Silas exhaled. “They don’t know who we are yet.”“Yet.” Eleanor’s fingers grazed his wrist, subtle but urgent. “We need to stay near the press section.”He nodded. They slipped through th
Chapter 92
Into the Lion’s Mouth.Silas spread the blueprint across the table, the faded paper smudged with ink and cigarette stains. The layout of the ballroom gleamed under the dim light. Eleanor leaned in, eyes scanning the pathways, the exits, the blind spots. Every inch of that space had to be committed to memory."We’ll go in through the back entrance," Silas said, tapping the map with the end of his pen. "Press credentials will get us past the first checkpoint, but once we're inside, we’re on our own."Eleanor folded her arms. "And when we get to Hartwell?"Silas sighed. "That’s the tricky part. We need to get close enough to extract something solid video, audio, anything incriminating. The moment we do, we slip out before his security realizes we're not supposed to be there."Margaret scoffed from across the room. "And if he already suspects us?"Silas exchanged a glance with Eleanor. That possibility had been weighing on them both."We improvise," Eleanor said. Her voice was firm, but i
