Chapter 13 : Burning Petals

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The small flame flickered to life, dancing with every subtle movement of the lighter

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The small flame flickered to life, dancing with every subtle movement of the lighter. I watched it intently, flipping the lid open and shut in a rhythm that seemed to echo the heavy silence of the room. The smell of burning fuel lingered in the air as I snapped the lighter off again, plunging the room into dim shadows. My eyes never left the flame, the only constant in the chaos that swirled around me.

I snapped the lighter back on.

"Who was it?" I asked, my voice low, cutting through the silence like the flame cutting through the dark. I didn't need to raise my voice. The fear in the room was palpable-enough to make the coward sitting across from me tremble. I could hear his labored breaths, feel the weight of his anxiety pressing down on him like a vice.

Slowly, I turned the chair around, facing the man who was now crumpled on the floor, his face pale and drenched in sweat. His eyes widened as they met mine, and for a moment, neither of us moved.

The lighter clicked shut again.

The man scrambled toward me, his hands shaking as he grabbed at my leg, begging. "I don't know... I don't know, I swear!" His voice was weak, cracking under the pressure. Pathetic.

I stood still, watching him grovel at my feet, his words a rushed mess. "I-I just did what I was told. I got the orders in an envelope, that's all. Please... I don't know anything else."

The lighter clicked back on. The flame hissed as it ignited, casting an eerie glow on the man's face. I leaned forward, bringing the lighter closer to his terrified expression. His eyes darted to the flame, then back to me, his breath quickening.

I stayed silent for a moment, letting the tension stretch. Then, with a slow exhale, I clicked the lighter shut and gestured to my men. "Take him away."

The man's pleas intensified. "Please! I did everything! I don't know anything more, I swear!"

I raised a hand, silencing him. "I don't need useless people." My voice was cold, emotionless. There was no room for weakness here. My men stepped forward, dragging the man out of the room, his cries fading into the distance as the door closed behind them.

For a moment, the room was still, the only sound the fading echo of footsteps. The calm after the storm. But that calm didn't last. The rage simmering beneath the surface was too much to contain.

With a sharp motion, I slid my hand across the table, sending everything on it crashing to the floor. Papers flew, glass shattered, and the loud clatter reverberated in the room. I stood there, breathing heavily, fists clenched, watching the chaos I had just unleashed.

But the chaos inside me was far worse.

Whoever was pulling the strings was still out there. Hidden. Waiting.

And I would find them.

The room was still a mess, papers scattered across the floor, a broken glass in the corner. I stood there, staring at the wreckage, my mind a bigger mess than the room. The frustration churned inside me, bubbling dangerously close to the surface.

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