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Chapter Fourteen

Penulis: Enny Tiana
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-06-29 08:19:50

What the Fire Left Behind

The next morning, the storm was gone.

But the silence it left behind was worse.

The Moretti estate glistened under the early Sicilian sun, drenched in dew and quiet violence. Birds chirped in trees that has seen executions. The marble floors gleamed from blood that had been scrubbed hours ago.

Amara stood at the balcony of her room, a black silk robe hanging loose on her body, her hair still damp. She stared out over the hills, the notebook from Romero's office clutched in her hand like a relic.

She hadn’t opened it again.

Not since the plane.

Not since Hector Romero bled at her feet, begging.

The satisfaction she expected didn't come.

Only stillness.

Behind her, the door opened.

She didn't turn.

Luca stepped into the room, shirtless, hair still damp from his shower. “You haven’t slept.”

She exhaled slowly. “There's a list in here. Twenty-seven names.”

“Bastards.”

“They bought women like stocks. Shipped them in crates. Used my father's crest to validate tran
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  • Kingdom of Ash and Blood    Chapter Forty-Four

    The Spanish dusk settled like a bruise across the Alhambra's jagged rooftops as Amara stood at the edge of the crumbling courtyard. The moon hadn’t yet risen, but the shadows were already shifting, whispering of danger. Behind her, Alejandro hovered, tense. “I don’t like this. He’s late.” Amara adjusted the cuff of her tailored black coat. “He’ll come. The devil always arrives when the blood runs warm.” They waited in silence. The meeting was supposed to be discreet—no weapons, no backup, no Luca. Just her and Alejandro and a message whispered through Elías' old informants: Come alone. Come at dusk. Come if you want answers. Then she heard it—boots crunching gravel. A man stepped through the ruined archway, draped in a charcoal coat. Tall, built like a battering ram, with thick salt-and-pepper hair slicked back and a scar that split his cheekbone like lightning. Milo Nero. The man who had taken her mother. Amara’s breath lodged in her throat. He didn’t flinch at the sight of

  • Kingdom of Ash and Blood    Chapter Forty-Three

    The desert wind howled through the open windows of the convoy as it sped down the narrow roads outside Marrakesh. Amara sat silently in the armored backseat, her eyes fixed on the endless stretch of golden sand, her mind a storm of questions. They were heading to the coastal estate of Najla Malek — the Moroccan queenpin rumored to be allied with Milo Nero. Najla controlled ports, cargo routes, and people. She trafficked in secrets and silk, diamonds and death. If Milo was hiding, it was under her veil of luxury. Luca, seated across from her, was all sharp jaw and tight tension. The scar on his temple caught the light as the sun dipped lower. He hadn't spoken since they left the villa in Granada that morning. He didn't need to. Everything between them buzzed with the unspoken — guilt, hunger, protection, vengeance. “Say something,” Amara finally said, unable to take the silence anymore. Luca’s eyes lifted to hers. “You’re going to meet a woman who’s slit more throats than she’s kis

  • Kingdom of Ash and Blood    Chapter Forty-Two

    The storm outside Palermo was a pale echo of the one brewing inside the Moretti estate. Amara stood at the edge of the fireplace in Luca’s study, the flickering fire bathing her skin in gold and fury. Her fists were clenched, nails biting into flesh. Across from her, Luca leaned back in his chair like a king on a crumbling throne, his cold eyes unreadable. She threw the folder onto his desk. Photographs spilled like broken glass—images of Milo Nero’s estate, of Isabel Varela blindfolded and bound in a cage-like room, of the guards, the tunnels. Luca didn’t flinch. “I asked you,” she hissed. “Did you know? And you lied.” Luca stared at the photos for a long moment, then looked up. “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you everything.” “You knew my mother was being held in Granada,” she snapped. “You knew and you let me believe she was dead. You used that grief against me.” His expression was steel. “I used it to keep you alive.” Her laugh was bitter. “Don’t give me that protector bu

  • Kingdom of Ash and Blood    Chapter Forty-One

    The sea breeze curled around Amara’s shoulders like phantom hands as she stood on the balcony of Luca’s Amalfi estate. Below, the ocean crashed against jagged cliffs, a savage rhythm she couldn’t look away from. The silence behind her was heavy. Luca hadn’t spoken a word since they returned from Palermo. Not since she’d accused him of orchestrating Milo Nero’s death. He hadn’t denied it. “Say something,” she whispered, gripping the balcony’s iron railing. “Anything.” Luca’s voice, when it came, was low. Controlled. “You wanted him gone. I made it happen.” Amara turned to face him. His black shirt clung to his chest, sleeves rolled to his elbows. He looked calm—dangerously so. “You made it happen without telling me.” “He abducted your mother. He held her for years. You were shaking when you saw him, Amara. I saw it. I felt it.” “That wasn’t your choice to make,” she hissed. “You took my revenge from me. You robbed me of it.” “I protected you.” “No,” she snapped, stepping forwa

  • Kingdom of Ash and Blood    Chapter Forty

    The midnight rain tapped against the stained-glass windows of the old cathedral like quiet footsteps of ghosts. Shadows danced along the marble walls as candlelight flickered, casting a haunting glow around the confessional. Amara sat stiffly inside the wooden booth, her jaw tight. It was the only place in Granada where Luca wouldn’t follow — not out of respect for faith, but because he didn’t like the way silence pressed too close inside this place. Sacred spaces didn’t suit men like him. But for Amara, this silence was a kind of weapon. Across the grille, the old priest's voice crackled. “You return... after so many years. And yet, it isn’t your soul you bring. It’s war.” She didn't answer at first. Because it was true. She wasn't here to be forgiven. She was here to sharpen her rage. “I want to speak to Milo Nero,” she said finally. A pause. “You are walking a dangerous road, niña.” She met the priest’s weary eyes through the mesh. “I was born on it.” With n

  • Kingdom of Ash and Blood    Chapter Thirty-Nine

    The Castello Nero loomed like a myth stitched into the bleeding dusk, its silhouette jagged and cruel against the Andalusian sky. It wasn’t a palace. It was a cage with velvet walls, and Amara was the most precious captive it held. She stood on the rooftop terrace, wind tangling her curls as she looked toward the Sierra Nevada mountains. The chill had teeth tonight. Somewhere in the halls below, Milo Nero was entertaining investors, and every echo of laughter rising from the banquet room made her fists curl tighter on the stone balustrade. She wasn’t invited. She wasn’t allowed. She was watched—constantly. Since the confrontation in the cellar days ago, Milo had kept her under tighter control. Her room was guarded. Her phone? Confiscated. And her mother? Still locked away in a wing she wasn’t allowed to enter. The bastard was keeping them both as leverage. But Amara knew men like him. They never held power as tightly as they thought. Her pulse thudded when soft footsteps a

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