Chapter 4: Blood on the Charles Bridge
742 Words
Night settled over Prague like a velvet curtain, cloaking its medieval towers and ancient streets in mystery. The lights reflected across the Vltava River, while tourists filled the cafés, unaware that an international manhunt was unfolding around them.
Deep beneath the city, Ava Carter, Damian Cross, and Nikolai hurried through a centuries-old tunnel once used by resistance fighters during the Second World War.
The explosions above had faded, but Damian knew better than to relax.
"They'll search every exit," he said.
Nikolai nodded. "Then we use the one they don't know exists."
Ava held the leather journal tightly against her chest. The pages felt heavier than paper—they carried secrets people had been willing to kill to protect.
She finally asked the question that had haunted her.
"What exactly is the Devil's Kingdom?"
Neither man answered immediately.
Finally, Nikolai spoke.
"It isn't a place."
He looked directly at Ava.
"It's an organization."
"A brotherhood of politicians, billionaires, intelligence officers, judges, and crime lords who have secretly controlled governments, financial markets, and organized crime for decades. Victor Moretti isn't its creator."
"He is merely one of its kings."
Ava felt her stomach tighten.
"So exposing Moretti isn't enough?"
Damian shook his head.
"No."
"If one king falls, another takes his throne."
Meanwhile, nearly five hundred kilometers away, inside a luxurious villa overlooking the cliffs of the Amalfi Coast in Italy, Victor Moretti stood before a wall-sized digital map of Europe.
Red lights blinked across Budapest, Prague, Vienna, Berlin, and Zurich.
Each represented one of his intelligence cells.
His daughter, Isabella Romano, entered the room wearing a tailored white suit beneath a long black coat. Calm, elegant, and unreadable, she carried herself with quiet authority.
"They escaped Prague," she reported.
Victor smiled faintly.
"I expected they would."
"You still aren't concerned?"
"I've spent thirty years building an empire."
He turned toward the window overlooking the sea.
"I don't lose to frightened journalists."
Isabella paused.
"She's changing."
Victor looked at her.
"She's becoming dangerous."
Back in Prague, the underground tunnel opened into an abandoned wine cellar beneath the city's historic district.
Nikolai unlocked a concealed steel safe hidden behind a crumbling stone wall.
Inside were stacks of passports, encrypted satellite phones, bundles of euros, and a velvet box.
He handed the box to Ava.
"For me?"
"It belonged to your father."
Ava froze.
"My father died when I was ten."
"So you were told."
Damian looked away.
Ava slowly opened the box.
Inside lay an old silver pocket watch engraved with a single crimson devil.
Beneath it was a faded photograph.
Her father.
Standing beside a much younger Damian Cross.
"What... is this?"
Her voice trembled.
"You knew my father?"
Damian closed his eyes.
"Yes."
"You lied to me."
"I protected you."
"You let me believe he was dead!"
"He is dead."
Damian's voice was heavy with regret.
"But not in the way you think."
Before Ava could demand answers, Nikolai's satellite phone buzzed.
His face drained of color after reading the encrypted message.
"They've closed every airport."
Damian frowned.
"And the trains?"
"Compromised."
"The highways?"
"Monitored."
Ava looked between them.
"So how do we leave?"
Nikolai managed a faint smile.
"By river."
Less than an hour later, they boarded a small luxury river cruiser disguised as wealthy tourists enjoying a nighttime voyage along the Vltava.
Music drifted from the upper deck.
Champagne glasses clinked.
No one suspected that the most wanted witness in Europe stood quietly among them.
For the first time in days, Ava stepped onto the open deck alone.
The cool night breeze brushed against her face.
She looked toward the illuminated Charles Bridge.
It was beautiful.
Peaceful.
Almost enough to make her forget the danger.
Footsteps approached behind her.
She turned.
A little girl, no older than eight, smiled shyly and handed Ava a single white rose.
"For you."
Ava smiled.
"Thank you."
The child ran back to her parents.
Confused, Ava noticed a small folded note wrapped around the stem.
Her smile disappeared as she opened it.
The message contained only five words.
"I can see you, Ava."
A gunshot echoed across the river.
The champagne glass in Ava's hand shattered.
Passengers screamed.
Chaos erupted.
From the rooftop overlooking the river, a sniper adjusted his scope.
His next shot wasn't aimed at Damian.
It wasn't aimed at Nikolai.
It was aimed directly at the Devil's Last Witness.
Ava looked up just as the red laser settled over her heart.
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