##second chapter of "Crownless king" is released now##
The Arrival of a Ghost
Elias sat in his dimly lit living room, his thoughts tangled in a web of questions. The severed head of Helena Marek sat in the basement, an unsolved mystery gnawing at his mind. Who had done this? And why had they sent it to him?
A knock at the door snapped him from his thoughts. His hand instinctively reached for the gun tucked under his waistband.
No one visited him unannounced.
He approached the door cautiously, peeking through the peephole.
A man stood outside, his hands in his pockets, exuding an effortless confidence. He wore a sleek black suit, his dark hair slightly tousled, a cigarette resting between his lips. His sharp, calculating eyes seemed to stare directly into Elias' soul, despite the barrier of the door.
Elias didn't recognize him, but something about the man sent a shiver of unease through him.
With slow deliberation, Elias unlocked the door and opened it a fraction. "Who the hell are you?"
The man took a long drag of his cigarette before exhaling. "You can call me Cyrus Vale." His voice was smooth, like whiskey over ice. "Mind if I come in?"
Elias didn't move. "That depends. Why are you here?"
Cyrus smirked. "You have something that belongs to me."
Elias' grip on the door tightened. His mind raced—was he talking about Helena's head? Had the real killer finally come knocking?
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Cyrus let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "You're not a very good liar, Elias. But don't worry—I'm not here to kill you. Not yet, anyway."
Something in his tone made Elias' blood run cold.
"Let me in," Cyrus said, his smirk fading. "We need to talk."
A Dangerous Proposition
Elias sat across from Cyrus in his living room, both men studying each other in the dim light. Cyrus leaned back in his chair, exuding a relaxed confidence that irritated Elias.
"Start talking," Elias said, arms crossed.
Cyrus flicked ash from his cigarette onto the floor. "You received a… gift recently. A severed head, if I'm not mistaken."
Elias' pulse quickened, but his expression remained neutral. "Maybe."
Cyrus chuckled. "Don't play dumb. I know you have it." He leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "The real question is—do you know why?"
Elias remained silent.
Cyrus exhaled slowly. "Let me tell you a story, Elias. A long time ago, I was part of something big. Bigger than the Black Sun Syndicate. Bigger than Vescari. A group that operated in the shadows, pulling the strings of this city. We were the real power behind the throne."
Elias narrowed his eyes. "And what happened?"
Cyrus smirked. "We were betrayed. One by one, my people were hunted down. Helena Marek? She was involved in that betrayal. And now, she's paid the price."
Elias sat back, processing. "So you killed her?"
Cyrus shook his head. "No. But I made sure she died."
A long silence stretched between them.
Cyrus took another drag of his cigarette. "That head was sent to you for a reason, Elias. The people I work for? They see something in you. And they want to know—are you with us? Or against us?"
Elias clenched his jaw. Another game. Another power play.
"What if I say no?" he asked.
Cyrus grinned. "Then you'll end up like Helena."
The Syndicates Stir
Meanwhile, across the city, chaos was brewing.
The Vescari Syndicate was in an uproar. Adrian Vescari sat in his private office, his fingers steepled in front of him. His most trusted men—Luca "The Hammer" Bellini, Alex "The Hunter" Zobkov, and several others—stood before him.
"We need to respond," Luca said, his voice laced with frustration. "First Anton Sorelli, now Helena Marek? Someone's making moves, and we're sitting on our asses."
Adrian remained silent, his mind turning over the possibilities.
"This wasn't Dominic Graves," he finally said. "And it wasn't us. Which means someone else is playing the game."
Alex crossed his arms. "Then we find out who."
Adrian leaned forward. "And when we do, we make them regret ever stepping into our world."
Dominic Graves' Next Move
At the same time, Dominic Graves was preparing his own response.
He stood in the darkened VIP lounge of his casino, a glass of whiskey in hand. Patrick "The Undertaker" stood beside him.
"Vescari's going to strike soon," Patrick said. "You know that, right?"
Dominic nodded. "Let him."
Patrick raised an eyebrow. "And what about Elias? He's becoming unpredictable."
Dominic smirked. "That's what makes him interesting."
Patrick hesitated. "You think he can be trusted?"
Dominic swirled the whiskey in his glass. "Trust is irrelevant. As long as he's useful, he stays alive."
Patrick exhaled slowly. "And if he becomes a problem?"
Dominic took a sip of his drink. "Then he dies."
Elias' Choice
Back in his house, Elias stared at Cyrus, weighing his options.
"You want me to join you?" Elias finally said.
Cyrus smirked. "I want you to survive, Elias. And right now, that means choosing the right side."
Elias exhaled slowly, his mind spinning. He had spent his whole life trying to escape the chaos, but now, it had found him anyway.
No matter what choice he made, someone would die.
But for the first time, he realized something.
It didn't matter who played the game.
The only thing that mattered was winning.
He looked at Cyrus and nodded.
"Tell me everything."
##second chapter of "Crownless king" is released now##