(Paris, 11:43 pm – Rue des Ombres)
The rain was falling quietly, lightly, as if the sky was whispering its dark secrets to the city.In the wet backstreet, where there were no cameras, no witnesses, no light to reveal the truth... she stood.
"Yasmine".
She thought the way back from the library would be as safe as every night.She thought Paris was the city of love, not death.
But when she turned to take the shortcut, she saw him...
Two men...One of them falls to the ground, and the other stands over him, pressing a smooth knife on his chest as if playing a tune.There was no scream. There wasn't much blood.But there were eyes…Storm colored eyes.
Yasmine froze in place, her breath caught.She thought she was going to die. That the man would catch up with her. That the knife would find her neck in a moment.
But what happened was stranger.
The man looked at her…He slowly pulled out the knife, wiped it with his leather handkerchief, and then turned to her as if he had known her for a long time.
"You saw what should not have been seen."
His voice was… eerily quiet.
"I'm sorry… I swear I didn't mean to, I just… I was… lost!"She stammered, backed away, but her feet didn't respond.
He took two steps towards her... He was tall, wearing a heavy black coat, a shirt open at the neck, and a small tattoo above his collarbone that read: Vincit qui se vincit"He who conquers himself wins."
And before you say another word…I smile.
"Go."
I froze again."What?"
"I said… go. But you won't forget this face. Will you?"Then he turned his back and disappeared into the alleys, as if the earth had swallowed him.
---
That same night, Yasmine opened the door of her trembling apartment, her heart beating like funeral drums,She takes off her coat, sits down… shivering…Then she takes her pen and writes:
> "Paris is not like in the books…But as in nightmares.And the face I saw tonight...He will be back."
---
[After 4 days - Literary Hall, University of Paris IV - Sorbonne]
"You're Yasmine Bouabdallah, right?"She turned to the elegant secretary.
"Yes, I am."
An Italian businessman sent a formal request for you to be his personal interpreter during his participation in a closed seminar on literature and the mafia.
"mafia?"
"Don't worry, it's just a business title. The guy seems very cultured… and interested in your writing style."
"Me? How did he know?"
"He just said he'd read a piece of yours that had recently been published in the university magazine... and liked the phrases."
Yasmine looked at the man's name on the paper...
Leonardo Castillo.
The blood froze in her veins.
That face…That name…That night…He came back.
---
[Paris - Sorbonne - Private Meeting Room - 2:15 PM]
The hall was wide and cool, despite the warmth of the sun outside the high windows.Everything about it is formal, classic, like those old plays that make no one laugh.
Yasmine sat in her designated seat, in front of her was a small notebook and a black pen.She tried to calm down."Just a businessman... he can't be the same..."
Then the door opened.
Heavy, confident steps.The scent of a rich, deep perfume, with a hint of tobacco... and memory.Her heart stopped for a second.
He came in.Same height. Same quiet.Same look... as if he was created from smoke and secret.
Leonardo Castillo.
He wears a very elegant black suit, but without a tie.Two open buttons reveal his neck...and the same tattoo she saw that night:"Vincit he who is victorious."
He looked at her.A look that was neither an investigation... nor a welcome...Rather, a look as if he knew exactly who she was... and what she saw.
He sat on the chair opposite, silently.He opened a leather file, turned one page, and then spoke his first words:
"Why did you tremble when you saw me?"
She held her breath.The secretary left and closed the door behind her.The hall was theirs alone.
She tried to pull herself together and replied in a steady voice:
"I… was just surprised. I didn't expect… that it would be you."Then she fell silent, as if her tongue had betrayed him.
Smile. That slow, provocative smile that means nothing... but says everything.
"Do you know who I am, Miss Bouabdallah?"
"An Italian businessman... I'm told."She said it, but she didn't believe it herself.
He moved a little closer, put his elbow on the table, and tilted his head:
"Do you think businessmen kill in cold blood in back alleys?"
I froze.
He knows.
He knows she saw him. He knows she hasn't forgotten.
"I didn't tell anyone, I swear."
"Know."He said it with devilish calm, as if he read her heart before her voice.Then he closed the file and pushed it towards her.
"But whoever tells... is not given the chance to explain themselves."
I looked at the file... opened the cover.Pages... all printed copies of her university writings.Her short articles. Her little stories.
"Why is this?"
He got up from his seat and walked towards the window.His hands behind his back, he looked at the distant street, then said:
"I'm looking for a writer who can understand ash without being choked by it."
"ash?"
He turned, looked directly at her, and then said:
"I am ash.And you…You will write me."
---
silence.
"What do you mean?"
"I want you to write my life, my story, but not as an autobiography… as a novel.I will tell… and you will write."He came closer to her, until his voice almost touched her heart:
"But before we begin… you need to find out who I really am.And I'll give you a chance that no one else gets…"
He pulled a black card from his pocket, with a golden seal resembling a flame."This is an invitation to a special dinner, at my house… tonight."
"This is… weird."
He smiled, then said:
"It's strange, Yasmine… that you entered my world without my permission,And now…I'll let you choose if you want to stay, or run away."
Then he went out…As he entered…Without a trace... without a sound...And he left behind him a door open to a thousand possibilities.
---
[9:14 PM - Southern suburbs of Paris - Castello Palace]
The black vehicle she was sent to was fancier than she had imagined, and the driver didn't speak.Even when I tried to ask him, "Do you know exactly where we're going?"He didn't answer...just pointed forward, and said coldly:"To the master. Ask no more."
Thirty minutes have passed…And I left Paris.
Yes, actually.The palace you're driving to is located outside the city... in a deserted area that looks like a burial place for ancient secrets.
Finally, the car stopped at a tall iron gate, guarded by black marble statues…Featureless statues.
The gate opened automatically…And the vehicle entered.
"Where am I? Who is this man? And why am I here?"But no answer.
I entered the palace.
Antique wood. Walls covered in unsmiling gray panels.Candles instead of electricity.A light scent of oud smoke mixed with incense…Strangely, she felt so comfortable... as if this palace knew her.
The servant suddenly appeared and said in a soft voice:"The master is waiting for you upstairs… the Ash Room."
"What room?"
"You'll understand when you get in."
And I went up.
A long staircase, its walls lined with old photos of men you wouldn't dare look into.Mafia men? Kings? The Castillo family?They all look like him...But no one has that look that pierced her heart a few days ago.
At a massive door of dark wood, there was a candle…A dim light streams in from under the door.
I knocked.
"Come in."Same voice. Same weight. Same dangerous gravity.
I opened the door…To find herself in a room unlike anything she had ever known.
The walls are black, covered with books.The fireplace is burning... even though it's warm.In front of him sits he... on a leather chair, and between his fingers is a dark wine glass that looks like old blood.
Leonardo.
He was looking directly at her, without moving.And at that moment… I felt like a chess piece placed in the middle of a battlefield I didn't yet understand.
"Welcome to the Hall of Ashes."He said it and pointed to the chair opposite.
"Why this name?"
He smiled, then replied:"Because everything in this world… ends in ashes."
I sat down... clearly nervous."Why am I here, Mr. Castillo?"
"Leonardo. I don't like titles."He raised his glass, then continued:
"I want to tell you my story… but your way."
"Why me? There are thousands of female writers in France..."
He came a little closer, stared into her eyes, and said:"Because you're not from here...because you're still pure."Then he was silent, and added in a lower voice:"Because I want you to write what cannot be said."
"I don't understand…"
"You'll understand."He stood up, walked to the wall, and pressed against a hidden shelf…
Part of the wall was opened.
Behind him, there was a small room… lit by a dim blue light,Its walls are filled with maps, pictures, names, red threads connecting them like a spider's web.
In the middle... a big picture.Hanged man.And under it is a single phrase:
"This is who killed my father."
She walked slowly, whispering:"Your father… was killed?"
He said it as if he was breathing out the ashes of his heart:"Killed? No…"He was buried alive. And I saw it… I was seven years old."
---
At that moment…Something in his voice broke. Something so small, only someone with a real heart could hear it.
He turned to her, his eyes suddenly burning with something like pain:
From tonight…You will hear everything.But remember, Yasmine...He came closer until the distance between them was not enough for a breath:
"Writing about me… might write you forever."
---
[Inside the Chamber of Secrets - Castillo Palace - 10:02 PM]
Yasmine stared at the pictures and maps, trying to unravel the threads of this complex life that was laid out before her like a puzzle.
Then he said in a low voice, without looking at her:
"Do you believe that man is born innocent?"
"sometimes."
"I wasn't born that way. Or… I wasn't allowed to be that way."
He turned around and sat down at a small table in the middle of the room.He placed a golden lighter in front of him, as if it were a piece of a heavy past.
"I was seven years old when I learned that the world is not what adults say it is.We had a big dinner party. Men in fancy dresses. Laughter, music, candles.Then, in the middle of the night... the music stopped.And someone screamed... and then my father fell in front of me."
Yasmine took a step forward... but didn't speak.
"He didn't die then. They knew he was strong… stubborn.So they dug a hole for him... tied him up... and threw him into it alive.They closed the coffin and threw dirt on it… in front of his son."
"Oh, my God…"She whispered it, but it felt too loud in the heavy silence.
"I left my mother after that, and left my name. I was no longer the child Leon.I was born again... in the ashes."
He looked at her. A different look this time. Sad, but not pitying.But watch her reaction.
"And you... why did you really come, Yasmine?"
"I wanted to know… who you are."
"Are you scared now?"
I looked into his eyes.There was something about them that was overwhelming… mysterious… and frighteningly attractive.
Then she said slowly:
"I don't know."
I smile.That cold smile, that warms no one.
"Your answer is honest. That's good."
He stood up and motioned for her to follow him out of the room.
---
[Great Hall - Castello Palace - 10:30 PM]
They sat at a long table, on which were placed luxurious dishes that had not yet been touched by hands.He sat in the seat opposite her, but he didn't eat.
Rather, he asked:
"Have you ever written about a gay man?"
"no."
"Do you think you can understand me?"
"I don't know."
"But you're still here... why?"
She looked at him for a long time, then said calmly:
"Because I feel like inside you… something hasn't died yet.Ashes don't mean the end...does it?"
For a moment, there was silence.Then he laughed... a short, dark laugh, not mocking... but something else.As if it were a confession... or amazement.
"This sentence… deserves to start a novel with."
He pulled out a piece of paper, wrote on it with his fancy pen, and then pushed it towards her.
> "Ashes don't mean the end. They mean the beginning of a man who isn't afraid to burn again."Chapter One: Castillo
---
[Before you leave]
She took her jacket and started to get up.But he said suddenly, without looking at her:
"There are those who will try to prevent you from continuing with me."
"What do you mean?"
"Enemies of mine...and enemies of yours.And some of them... might be closer than you think."
"Am I in danger?"
"Since you entered the hall that day…You are in my world.And get out of it…It's not always your decision."
---
[Yasmine Apartment - Old Quarter - Algiers - 8:46 AM]
I opened the door heavily. Last night was… unreal.
But she wasn't prepared for the surprise.
A white, unaddressed envelope lay neatly on the doorstep.She bent down and opened it.
One sheet.And just one sentence, in elegant handwriting, in Italian:
> "When the ashes smile... the corpses ignite."
The blood froze in her veins.
She took a shaky breath and pulled out her phone.
"Leon... I received a strange message."
"Read it."
They wrote: When the ashes smile... the corpses ignite.
silence.
Then he said in a gloomy tone:
"Leave the apartment now. Don't look back.And don't ask why. Just... get out."
"What is there?"
"They are here."
---
[Lower Street - Al-Qasbah District - 9:01 AM]
I ran through the alleys. No particular destination.Just running away from a shadow she felt was watching her.
Then, I felt something…A strong arm grabbed her from behind, pulling her towards a dark alley.
"One scream... and you'll be sorry."
He was a huge man, with a dragon tattoo on his neck.His eyes are empty of mercy.
"Where is he?"He asked her.
"from?"
"Your master. Leonardo Castillo."
"I don't know-"
A strong slap knocked her to the ground.
"Lies! You all find nothing but lies."
But before he could raise his hand again…
A shot rang out.
Then the sound of a heavy body falling... beside her.
I looked… the man on the ground, blood dripping from his neck.
Behind him…Leonardo, holding a silenced pistol, stands as if he came from hell.
"I'm late."She said it with a tremor.
He looked at her, then bent down, wiping the man's blood off her hand.
"You weren't late. They were the ones who were one step ahead of us."
"Who are they?"
"My old enemies... the Noir Mafia."They thought I was dead five years ago.But you...brought me back to life."
---
[Inside Leonardo's car - on the way to the port - 9:46 AM]
"Is this always your life?"I asked.
"no.Some days…it's worse."
She smiled despite her fear.
"And I... what is my place in all this?"
"You…"He stopped, then looked towards the sea looming in the distance.
"You are the story that should never have been written."
---
[Deserted Port - Castillo's Secret Hideout - 10:20 AM]
"Here... I was born again."He said as he opened a back door into the port.
An underground hall, filled with weapons, maps, and pictures of people with killer faces.
"What are you going to do?"I asked him.
"revenge."
"From whom?"
"From everyone who thought Leonardo Castillo was… ashes gone."
---
[Conclusion of the first chapter - in the words of Yasmine]
When I looked into his eyes, that night,I saw a man who was not afraid of death…Because he died before."
"And I… I was already burning up.But among the ashes…My heart started beating again."