Rising from the Ashes (Andrew) novel Chapter 1446

At a secluded villa on the outskirts of the city, Mosby and Rafael sat brooding, their faces dark and twisted with frustration.

Rafael muttered through gritted teeth, "We're still missing the final fragment. And the one we snatched from the Rhodes family? Completely blank. All that effort and the map's still incomplete—and I got stabbed in the damn groin for it! Screw this!"

A thick cigar dangled from his lips as he cursed loudly, wincing as a sharp pain from his crotch shot through his body again.

It was pure bad luck. Andrew had aimed that golden acupuncture needle straight at Rafael's vital point, but Mosby had yanked him aside at the last second. The needle missed his heart, only to land squarely in a far more sensitive spot.

Though Mosby had pulled it out quickly after, Rafael still felt sore and twitchy every time he moved.

"Mr. Driscoll, good things take time. We're closer than ever to uncovering the treasure vault of the Fallen Crimson Dynasty," Mosby said calmly.

He added, "Think about it—this is said to be half the national treasury of an ancient empire. They say the secrets of immortality are buried with it! No matter the setbacks, it's worth the chase, isn't it?"

Mosby was trying to talk Rafael down, keeping him focused.

In truth, Mosby knew far more about the treasure than he let on. What he said just now was only a fraction of what he believed. The real vault held things even more maddening and unbelievable, but those details he kept close to his chest.

Rafael snorted. "Those legends are nearly a century old. No one even knows if they're real. Even if we do find the treasure, what makes you think we'll walk away alive, let alone rich?"

Mosby gave a cold smirk. "Alive? You're thinking too small. You said you loved money, didn't you? How about becoming the wealthiest man on Earth? Forget all the current billionaires, what I'm offering is wealth that makes all of them look poor."

Mosby did not have an answer to that.

Just then, a smooth, unfamiliar voice floated in from the front gate.

"Mr. Driscoll. Dr. Lake. Perhaps I can help with that."

Both men turned sharply toward the door, watching as a figure strolled in calmly—Quinton from the Wrights.

Rafael's eyes lit up with surprise, then amusement. "Quinton… perfect timing."