Ashes to blood
Ashes to blood
Chapter 81: Ashes to Blood.
(Federal Prison Black site )
(Jake)
Jake leaned forward, elbows pressing into the cold steel table, eyes locked on Maxwell like a hungry wolf.
Maxwell raised an eyebrow. “You’re in no position to .......”
“I said, I have conditions,” Jake snapped, slamming his hands on the table hard enough to rattle it.
Silence.
Jake exhaled shakily. “One: I want daily updates. I don’t care how. I don’t care if it’s one line scribbled in a matchbox. I need to know if she’s still breathing.”
Maxwell said nothing.
“Two: I want to see her … .”
“Absolutely not.” Maxwell barked,
Dr Martin will never agree to that, and moreover, we don't need that kind of close contact between you two ...
Jake stared him down for a time ...then
Maxwell hesitated for some seconds;... he swallowed hard, Then he gave a slow, deliberate nod.
Jake swallowed.
“And three…”...
He looked down.
This part hurt the most.
“I want to see my daughter Audrey .”
Maxwell frowned. “Why?”
Jake’s fingers trembled on the pen. “Because if I die out here, I don’t want the last thing she remembers about me… to be a broken father In a cage "
Silence filled the room like water in a drowning man’s lungs.
Then Jake pressed the pen to the page and told Maxwell to give him some days to think things through.
Before he could give up the Fraser name, the title, and the company, he would give up everything except for Valerie and Audrey.
And maybe that was enough....but losing it would cost more than he could bear.
As Maxwell walked out, the door clicked shut behind him.
Jake leaned back.
Closed his eyes.
And let the pain wash over him like a storm tide.
But somewhere in that pain, beneath the grief, beneath the guilt, something was cooking
Not hope.
Not redemption.
Something colder. Sharper.
Vengeance......
\---
(Unknown Location – Dr Martin Underground hideout?
(Valerie)
Valerie woke to metal, chains, and cold concrete kissing her cheek in the Containment Three room.
Her head pounded, her wrist raw from failed resistance; the air reeked of mold and sterilized agony; it had been days, she thought. Time is bent in places like this. Every hour crawled with the rhythm of footsteps and muffled screams and silence that cursed deliberate silence.
Her body ached, but her spirit did not.
Valerie blinked blearily into the dark. The room had no windows, only a single flickering lightbulb above and a camera watching from the corner—unblinking.
And then, like clockwork, the door creaked.
Footsteps. Not hurried. Measured. Mocking.
Dr. Martin entered, gloved hands behind his back, his smile a razor carved in porcelain.
“I must say,” he began softly, “you’re more resilient than expected", like mother like daughter"
Valerie lifted her chin, even as pain screamed through her bones. Don't you dare mention my daughter with your filthy tongue, 'cause you’re more pathetic than I thought. Still hiding behind cameras and scalpels.”
He chuckled. “Still sharp-tongued, I see. But soon, we’ll fix that. You’ll be reborn in silence.”
Valerie didn’t flinch. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”
“Oh no, my dear,” he said, approaching her. “You’re the centerpiece. The martyr. The final proof that even empires bleed.”
He leaned closer, whispering near her ear. “And he’ll watch it all.”
\---Three days later;
(Federal Black Site – Observation Deck, 11:06 AM)
(Jake)
Jake sat on the edge of his bunk, elbows on his knees, staring at the manila folder opened on the floor like a wound.
He hadn’t slept. Not since Maxwell’s visit. Not since Valerie’s face flickered on that damned wall and lit the fire in him that prison hadn’t managed to kill.
The guards didn’t come. No one disturbed him. Maxwell had pulled strings—too many for comfort—and Jake knew what that meant.
They needed him. But more importantly, they needed her alive to keep him obedient.
He picked up the folder again.
Blueprints. Codes. Target lists.
And at the center: “Fraser Legacy Protocol – Transfer of Ownership.”
Jake pressed his thumb to the biometric pad Maxwell had left on the final page. It blinked. Waiting.
Still no signature.
Still no surrender.
Instead, Jake stood and turned to the mirror bolted above the sink. His reflection stared back—pale, gaunt, haunted—but steel behind the eyes.
He leaned in close.
“You’re not going to break me,” he whispered. “And you’re damn sure not going to kill her.”
There was a knock—sharp, firm. Then a guard unlocked the slot.
“Visitor. Again.”
Jake frowned. “Maxwell?”
“No,” the guard muttered. “She said her name was Bella.”
Jake’s breath caught, Bella was his childhood friend,
He stood in a heartbeat.
Jake stared at her as she walked in,
Then, straight to business, she mounted the monitor as Jake stared at it, his jaw tightened, heart slamming in his chest.
There she was. Valerie. Chained. Bloodied. Still breathing.
Still fighting.
Bella stood beside him, silent. Watching Jake watch her.
Jake didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.
He simply pointed at the screen and whispered:
“Tell them to get ready. I want her out, I want to see her, And I want that bastard’s heart on a tray.” Bella chuckled..." you have not much of a time Jake "
Jake stood by the wall, arms crossed, his body taut like a wire stretched too thin. Bella gently sat across the table, medical files and clearance papers spread before her. She looked exhausted—same messy bun, same blue coat, same Bella. Or so he thought.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” she said softly, trying to smile. “Still stubborn. Still impossible.”
Jake’s gaze didn’t waver. “What are you doing here, Bella?” he asked finally
“Maxwell pulled strings. I told him I might help convince you to sign the Fraser Protocol. Said I had a history with you. Said you’d listen.”
Jake scoffed. “You think you’re here because of loyalty? No. You're here because they’re desperate. And so am I.”
She leaned forward, voice lowering. “Jake, Valerie doesn’t have time," she repeated. " They won’t let you see her. Not unless you cooperate. But I can... help. If you trust me.”
Jake eyed her closely. “You really think I still trust anyone?”
A flicker of something—pity? Regret? Guilt?—flashed across Bella's face. But she masked it quickly.
“Then don’t trust me. Trust that if you stall too long, she’ll die. And Audrey will be next.”
Jake’s jaw clenched.
But behind Annie’s practiced concern, her fingers tapped the edge of the file in a rhythm—three short, two long. A signal. One that didn’t belong to any medical protocol.
Jake narrowed his eyes.
“Who sent you, Bella ?” he asked, voice like gravel.
She blinked. “What?”
“You’ve always tapped your pen when you lied. Just like that.”
Bella froze.
Then smiled.
“Maybe I’m here to help,” she said, standing and closing the file, “or maybe I’m here to watch you lose everything. Either way, you’ll sign eventually. Or they’ll bleed it out of you.”
And with that, she walked out, heels clicking like a countdown.
Jake turned back to the wall, fists curling.
She wasn’t Bella anymore.
She was Maxwell's pawn.
And this just got personal.