CHAPTER 9: The House In The Hills
A tip came late that night—a property high in the hills on the edge of the city, registered under a false name but linked to the black rose symbol. Victor ordered his men to surround the place quietly. No lights, no sirens.
“We go in calm,” he told us. “If he wants to talk, we listen. If he doesn’t… we end it without bloodshed if we can.”
We moved through the trees toward the large stone house, its windows dark. Marcus signaled, and his men took their positions. Victor nodded at me to stay back, then stepped forward alone, hands raised.
“Elias!” he called out. “I know you’re in there. I’m not here to fight. I’m here to tell you what really happened to your sister.”
Silence stretched long and heavy. Then the front door creaked open. A man stood in the frame—gray hair, deep lines around his eyes, holding no weapon. He looked at Victor with eyes full of grief and rage.
“You killed her,” Elias said, his voice rough with years of pain. “You let Julian drag her into your mess, then you got rid of her when she became a problem.”
“I tried to save her,” Victor said steady. “I offered her money, a place to hide, anything to get her away from both of us. But she was scared of you. She thought you’d never stop looking for her.”
He pulled out a sealed envelope from his pocket—Lena’s handwriting, dated the day before she died. “She gave this to me. Said if anything happened to her, I was to give it only to you.”
Elias took it with trembling hands, broke the seal, and began to read. I watched his shoulders shake, watched the anger drain slowly out of him, replaced by tears he’d held back for fifteen years.
