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Chapter 53: Ghosts in the Crossfire

Author: Sydirae
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-07-18 13:17:39

It began with a whisper. Then a crackle of static over the secure comms line in Rafael’s office.

I was there, helping him sort old ledgers and red-stamped files, when the voice came through—grainy, amused, unmistakably cruel.

"Rafael Monteverde," Elias Vasquez drawled. "You lost your touch. Letting your little house rot from the inside. And yet, you’ve kept such an interesting secret."

Rafael stiffened beside me. He pressed a button. "Identify yourself."

Laughter crackled through the speaker. "You know who I am. But do you know where your son is?"

The line went dead.

Rafael didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. He just stared at the comm box, the light blinking in silence.

I swallowed hard. "Rafael... you have a son?"

He looked at me. Not with anger. Not even surprise. Just a bone-deep weariness.

"Not one I thought anyone still remembered."

Twelve Years Earlier

The storm had hit fast that night—thunder snapping over the hills, lightning cracking trees like bones. Matteo was just nineteen, soak
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  • Blood Roses And Bullet Vows   Chapter 53: Ghosts in the Crossfire

    It began with a whisper. Then a crackle of static over the secure comms line in Rafael’s office.I was there, helping him sort old ledgers and red-stamped files, when the voice came through—grainy, amused, unmistakably cruel."Rafael Monteverde," Elias Vasquez drawled. "You lost your touch. Letting your little house rot from the inside. And yet, you’ve kept such an interesting secret."Rafael stiffened beside me. He pressed a button. "Identify yourself."Laughter crackled through the speaker. "You know who I am. But do you know where your son is?"The line went dead.Rafael didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. He just stared at the comm box, the light blinking in silence.I swallowed hard. "Rafael... you have a son?"He looked at me. Not with anger. Not even surprise. Just a bone-deep weariness."Not one I thought anyone still remembered."Twelve Years EarlierThe storm had hit fast that night—thunder snapping over the hills, lightning cracking trees like bones. Matteo was just nineteen, soak

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