Queen of Ashes

ENORA

To anyone else, it’s just a door.

A plain steel slab sunk into the side of an abandoned warehouse.

It’s lined with tasteless graffiti and dust. Rust bleeds down from the hinges.

It’s the place people pass without looking too long or hanging around.

But I know better.

This isn’t just a door.

It’s a lockbox. A threshold. A signal of power the average civilian wouldn’t recognize until it’s already too late.

Mags slips through the back end of the encrypted system like it’s child’s play. She embeds the invite to tonight’s fight behind layers of encryption that would stall even the most elite hackers. Sometimes, I wonder who taught her. Then I remember—she’s never needed anyone to. She’s always had a gift for slipping past defenses.

Just like I used to have a gift for trusting the wrong people.

That version of me is dead. Went up in flames a decade ago.

The door creaks open, revealing a dimly lit hallway that would send a chill down anyone else’s spine.

But me?

The scent of danger has never made me feel more alive.

A greasy man with prison tattoos and the stench of cheap cigarettes shuffles toward me.

His meaty hands press into my chest like a challenge.

I don’t flinch.

Instead, I shove my phone into him, and the encrypted barcode glows on the screen.

He scans it, his expression unreadable, before grunting and stepping aside.

I move forward quickly before I lose my nerve.

The hallway leads into a broader, better-lit room buzzing with heat and low-level tension.

Loan sharks in custom suits circle their unsuspecting prey. Bettors bark numbers and pass envelopes with casual menace.

The air is thicker here—not with smoke but with privilege and desperation.

The kind of desperation that gets people killed.

The kind of privilege that makes it disappear.

CASH

This ring has taken more blood from me than any battlefield.

It’s my altar. My purge.

It’s the only place that still lets me feel anything.

It’s not about money. It never was.

The guys in this ring? They’re desperate. They step into this cage, hoping it’ll save them. That one good hit will fix their lives. They fight to survive.

I fight to breathe.

I’m here because this is the only place I can fall apart without consequences.

That’s why I’m more dangerous than any of them.

I don’t need the win.

I just need the release.

The bell rings, signaling the start of the fight.

The crowd fades when the punches start and drown out the noise.

My opponent swings wild. He’s sloppy and way too eager.

I duck. Shift. Counter.

A left to his jaw. A quick hook to the ribs. He folds a little like they all do.

And then it happens.

Mid-step. Mid-breath. Mid-movement.

The air shifts.

It feels heavy. It’s haunting.

Every hair on my arms stands up.

My spine stiffens, fists still raised, but I can feel it—like a sixth sense whispering across my skin.

Something colder rushes through me.

Not adrenaline.

Not fear.

Recognition.

She’s here.

I can’t see her—yet.

But every part of me knows.

The guy in front of me throws a punch.

I take it.

Clean. Direct. Doesn’t even register.

Because suddenly, my focus isn’t in the ring.

ENORA

“How did you get in here, Enora?”

His voice is calm and calculated.

I turn slowly, meeting his eyes over the rim of my glass.

Stone Borgia.

Still sharp. Still unreadable.

But for a fraction of a second, I can see it flash across his face—

He’s surprised. Curious.

I let the silence sit between us before I offer my response.

“Isn’t it your job to know that?” I say, lips twitching. “Maybe your security isn’t as tight as you think.”

His eyes skim me like he’s still deciding if I’m real or a ghost.

He doesn’t blink, doesn’t offer anything.

“Or maybe I’ve been keeping tabs longer than you realize.”

He holds my gaze before cocking his lips into a smirk.

“Does Cash know you’re here?”

My smile doesn’t falter, but my grip tightens on the glass.

I slip on the mask of indifference I’ve spent years perfecting.

Emotions are a weakness in this world—

And I’ll be damned if I lose this mental chess game before I even have all the pieces on the board.

“Humor me, Stone,” I say smoothly. “Why the hell would Cash Lancaster give two shits about anything I do? We dated, what—six, seven months? Ten years ago? Why would I call him up on a random Tuesday for a little chit-chat and, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m heading to an underground elite fight ring’?”

It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.

But I keep my tone even. My expression just as unreadable as his.

I deserve an award, really.

He still doesn’t blink.

“If you’re not here to watch Cash fight,” he says, his voice just as steady, but there’s an undertone of curiosity. “Then why are you here, Enora?”

My face goes pale.

I feel it.

The mask slips—just for a breath, but I know he doesn’t miss it. He knows he knocked me off kilter.

Why the fuck is Cash fighting in an underground ring where there are no rules?

Fight until the death or surrender. That’s it.

And even then, if you don’t have a team to drag you out when you yield… it’s a free-for-all.

Cash has done reckless shit before.

But this?

I didn’t expect this.

He doesn’t need the money.

I know that for a fact.

He and his brother took over the family business this year—

The multi-billion—no, trillion-dollar banking and investing empire that launders blood money for the ultra-wealthy.

They fund wars.

Quietly. Neutrally.

They don’t care who wins—just that someone pays.

The Lancaster name is sacred in both the underworld and the corporate world.

They are sharks.

And Cash?

He shouldn’t be in that ring.

The weight of Stone’s gaze settles on me.

I hadn’t even realized I’d drifted—lost somewhere deep in my own mind.

When I finally blink, he cocks his head slightly and takes a sip from his glass, smirking like he knows something I don’t.

And I hate that look. Hate that I let him throw me off so easily.

It’s the kind of look that says you’re about to find out something that’ll wreck you, and he’s already made peace with it.

Stone’s secrets are sealed tighter than any vault.

And I know better than anyone—if he doesn’t want to share, no amount of begging, bribery, or blood will get them out of him.

“Come on, Enora. You think I didn’t know?”

He leans in slightly, locking eyes with mine.

“You’ve been sniffing around my ring, my people, and me for months. I keep eyes on everyone—especially family.”

His voice stays cool, but there’s steel behind it.

“You really think the intel you’ve been getting wasn’t hand-fed? You’re smarter than that. You saw exactly what I wanted you to see.”

He shakes his head slowly, that familiar smirk tugging at his mouth.

“Still, I have to give it to you. Slipping in tonight without tipping off any of my wires?”

He pauses.

“That was impressive.”

The bell cuts through the air like a warning.

Stone steps in close—too close.

Before I can react, his fingers clamp around my chin, turning my face toward the ring.

My lungs seize.

For a second, I wonder if he’s going to end me right here.

He could.

No one would stop him.

They’d just fight for the chance to clean up after him.

But instead, he leans in, voice sharp and cold in my ear.

“You’re going to watch, Enora. Every second. You’re going to witness what he became while you were gone because of the choices you made. You don’t get to flinch. And you don’t get to run—not again.”

He pauses.

“You owe him that.”

“I don’t owe him shit,” I spit. “I don’t owe any of you anything.”

I try to pull away, but his grip tightens.

My head stays locked toward the ring.

And I finally see him.

CASH

I can feel it—the shift.

And it’s not the crowd or the fists flying toward my face.

It’s her.

The energy in the air hums wrong, electric. Heavy.

A punch grazes my ribs. I block the next one and barely register it.

I was going to have fun with this fight.

Draw it out. Break the guy down slow.

It’s the anniversary, after all.

Ten years since she disappeared.

Ten years since she tore the breath out of my lungs and never gave it back.

And now?

She’s here.

I know it. I feel it. I fucking feel it.

My next punch lands hard—jaw, ribs, gut.

The guy stumbles, blood pouring everywhere.

I scan the crowd—

And there she is.

Enora.

Everything else fades.

The lights. The noise. The blood.

All gone.

I feel like I’m on fire.

Maybe I’m in a coma somewhere. Maybe I took a hit that finally dropped me.

But no—

Stone’s there. Holding her in place. Making her watch me fall apart.

And that’s what does it.

That’s when I lose it.

All the anger. All the pain.

All the years I’ve spent filling that hole with violence—

Explodes.

I black out in rage.

When I come back, I’m straddling the guy.

Blood on my fists. My chest heaving.

People are shouting all around me in both excitement and fear. I hardly register someone’s pulling me off him.

I’ve only killed a handful of times in these rings.

Most of them were in the beginning—when I didn’t know how to stop.

Considering how many I’ve fought since then, that number’s… decent.

Or disturbing. Depends on who you ask.

Or who’s betting.

Crew appears in the ring, shoving a towel against my face and a water bottle into my hand like he’s about two seconds away from demanding blood himself.

“What the hell, Cash? You good? What just happened in there?”

I don’t answer right away.

I scan the crowd—

And there she is.

Enora.

Stone stands beside her, anchored to her like he’s the only thing keeping her from disappearing again. He probably is.

“She’s here.”

I take a breath.

“Stone’s got her over there,” I say, nodding my head to the back corner.

Crew freezes.

His eyes go wide for a split second.

Just long enough for me to catch it.

Then, his jaw clenches. Tight.

He turns to where his brother and half-sister stand.

And I already know the unspoken words in his gaze because I’m thinking the same thing.

Why the fuck didn’t he tell us?

Part of me wants to storm over there and demand answers.

There is no version of this story in which Stone didn’t know Enora was alive.

No chance in hell.

The other part?

Wants to keep pretending she’s dead.

Because that lie was easier than believing she just didn’t come back.

Even though I always knew the truth.

Still—I searched for years.

No socials. No bank activity.

No flight records. No aliases. No digital shadow.

Not a whisper. Not a trace. Nothing.

She disappeared like a ghost.

And I eventually just let her stay gone.

Now she’s just… here?

Haunting me.

I’m pissed, but I’m also relieved.

And I’m not sure which emotion I hate more.

I finally break eye contact and take another long sip until I drain the water bottle—

But it’s not enough.

Stone tilts his head from across the room, nodding towards his office in the back.

An Invitation. Warning. Maybe both.

I snatch a drink from the nearest hand and down it without thinking.

The burn lights something in me.

Then I turn toward the hallway.

Time to face my little ghost.

ENORA

The door is open.

That detail alone tells me everything I need to know.

Stone didn’t close it.

Didn’t lock me in.

Didn’t think he had to.

He still believes he’s in control.

Still thinks I’m the same girl who ran a decade ago.

The one who breaks instead of bites.

He has no idea about Mags.

No idea I’ve already started unraveling the trap he thinks I walked into.

Then I feel it.

Cash.

He’s in the doorway. Watching.

My skin tightens.

My breath catches—stuck somewhere between instinct and memory.

I don’t turn.

Not yet.

But I can feel him moving—slow, deliberate, like a predator savoring the hunt.

He’s close enough to touch now.

Close enough to shatter me.

Still, I don’t move.

Don’t speak.

Don’t flinch.

I stay grounded and let them believe this is checkmate.

Let them think the board is theirs, and I’m still a pawn.

But I know something they don’t:

No matter if I walk out of here tonight or not…

This is a game they’ve already lost.

CASH

She doesn’t turn around.

But I know she feels me.

Beau stopped me before I followed her in.

He warned me.

My brother’s always been more levelheaded. Less forgiving.

Maybe I should’ve listened.

Too late now.

She can pretend we’re strangers, like none of this matters,

but her body gives her away.

Her shoulders tense—barely—but I catch it.

I’m livid, and I’m confused.

Broken in ways I haven’t allowed myself to feel in years.

How is she just standing there?

Like ten years haven’t passed.

Like she didn’t disappear without a trace,

leaving me half-dead on the side of a road and wrecked for a decade.

I step into her from behind, everything in me threatening to break loose.

Crew flanks her left. Beau’s on her right. Stone in front.

And I reach for her waist, pulling her into me.

“Miss me, princess?”

The words cut sharper than I meant.

She doesn’t react. Doesn’t breathe.

But I feel it—this current between us.

This violence. A pull that neither of us can fight.

She turns and meets my gaze, and then my world goes still as she rises onto her toes, lips grazing my jaw—a breath away from destroying me all over again.

“I’m sorry… and you are?”

I step back. Stunned. Wounded.

She smiles. Eyes cold. Voice lower than a whisper.

“Checkmate.”

Then it happens—

The sound of Locks disengaging echoes down the hall. The Lights flicker a few times before the room plunges into a total blackout.

When power returns a moment later—

She’s gone.

None of us move fast enough.

Not even Stone.

I stand there, fists clenched.

But it’s not rage.

It’s worse.

Because now I know—

She didn’t just vanish.

She’s colder. Sharper. Unreadable.

No, she didn’t run.

She executed it.

Only this time, Enora didn’t just outsmart us—

She declared war.

And I won’t rest until I find her.

Until I find out exactly why she dug herself up from the grave—

And what she’s planning to bury next.