Chapter 13: The Syndicate's Threat

The house felt heavier that evening, as though the walls themselves carried the weight of secrets Rory could almost touch but not grasp. After her tense talk with Max earlier, she’d hoped for some clarity. Instead, she was left with pieces of truth, a past he refused to share, and Rossini’s chilling message still lingering on her phone: Tick tock, Aurélien. Time is running out.

The hours crawled by. Rory’s frustration kept her restless, and her interest pushed her to wander the sprawling estate. She didn’t know what she was looking for—answers, a distraction, maybe even Max himself. Anything to piece together the puzzle that had become her life.

As she turned a corner toward the study, she stopped short. The door was ajar, a tiny sliver of light spilling into the hallway. She moved closer, her pulse quickening when she heard voices inside.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Rykard.”

The voice was deep, smooth, and foreign. Rory’s breath caught as she pressed herself against the wall just outside the door. She couldn’t see inside, but she could hear every word.

“It’s my game,” Max answered, his tone cold and clipped. “And I’m still in control.”

The stranger laughed, a low, threatening sound. “Control? Is that what you call this? Rossini’s patience is running thin. You know what happens when he’s crossed.”

There was a pause, and Rory could almost feel the stress crackling in the air.

“Tell Rossini he’ll get what he’s owed,” Max said finally. “But he’ll get it on my terms.”

The stranger’s voice dropped, each word laced with warning. “Your terms don’t mean a damn thing to the syndicate. You’re running out of time, Rykard. And if you don’t deliver, it won’t just be your head on the line.”

Max didn’t respond instantly. When he finally spoke, his voice was icy. “Are you threatening me?”

The stranger laughed darkly. “Not a threat. A reminder. We’ll be watching.”

Footsteps followed, going toward the door. Rory’s heart leapt into her throat as she darted into a nearby alcove, pressing herself into the darkness. A tall man in a dark coat emerged from the study, his sharp features lit briefly by the hallway’s dim light. He walked past without noticing her, his presence leaving a chill in his wake.

Rory waited until he disappeared around the corner before stepping out, her heart still racing. She crept toward the study, peeking inside. Max stood by the desk, his hands holding the edge as if he were trying to anchor himself. His head was bowed, the normal steel in his posture replaced by something she hadn’t seen before.

Defeat.

“What was that about?” Rory’s words cut through the silence.

Max’s head snapped up, his eyes hardening when he saw her in the doorway. “You shouldn’t be here.”

She stepped inside, dismissing the warning in his tone. “Who was that? What does Rossini want from you?”

Max’s jaw tightened. “It doesn’t concern you.”

Rory’s anger boiled over. “Stop saying that! Every time you tell me it doesn’t concern me, it becomes clearer that it does. I’m already involved, Max. Whatever this is, it’s pulling me down with you.”

Max straightened, his face hardening. “This is my fight, Rory. Not yours.”

“Then why is Rossini coming after my family?” she asked. “Why is he trying to pull me into his orbit if this has nothing to do with me? You’re not just fighting for yourself, Max. You’re fighting for us, whether you want to admit it or not.”

His quiet was deafening, and Rory took a step closer, her voice softening. “Please, Max. Talk to me. Let me help you.”

For a moment, his eyes softened, the walls he’d made around himself cracking just enough for her to see the turmoil beneath. But just as quickly, they hardened again.

“You want to help?” he asked, his voice sharp. “Stay out of it. That’s the only way you can help me, Rory.”

Her chest tensed, his words like a slap in the face. “You’re impossible,” she said, her voice shaking. “You keep pushing me away, but you don’t see that I’m already in the middle of this. Rossini’s made sure of that.”

Max’s gaze flicked to the doorway, as though expecting the stranger to return. When he spoke again, his voice was low and controlled. “Rossini’s playing his games, but you don’t have to play along. If you trust me, you’ll let me handle it.”

Rory’s laugh was bitter. “Trust you? After everything you’ve kept from me? You want me to blindly trust that you’ll fix this when you won’t even tell me what ‘this’ is?”

Max’s control slipped for a fraction of a second, his hand slamming down on the desk. “Because the less you know, the safer you are!”

The echo of his outburst filled the room, the intensity of his words leaving Rory briefly speechless. But she quickly recovered, her own anger rising.

“Safe?” she repeated, her voice rising. “Do you think I feel safe knowing that syndicate thugs are walking through our doors, making threats in the middle of the night? Do you think I feel safe with Rossini breathing down my neck? You don’t protect me by keeping me in the dark, Max. You’re only making it worse.”

Max’s shoulders slumped, the fight drained from him. He turned away, his gaze fixed on the window as if looking for answers in the darkness outside.

“You don’t understand what’s at stake,” he said softly.

“Then make me understand,” Rory begged. “You don’t have to do this alone, Max. Let me in.”

For a long moment, he didn’t reply. When he finally turned back to her, his eyes were shadowed, his face unreadable.

“It’s not that simple,” he said, his voice heavy with something Rory couldn’t quite name. “You think you want the truth, but once you have it, you can’t unlearn it. It changes everything.”

Rory’s heart ached at the weight in his words, but her resolve didn’t waiver. “Maybe I’m ready for that change. Maybe it’s the only way forward.”

Max studied her, his eyes piercing. Finally, he sighed, the fight leaving him completely. “Go to bed, Rory. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

She wanted to argue, to demand answers right then and there, but something in his tone stopped her. With a hesitant nod, she turned and left the study, her mind racing.

As Rory lay in bed that night, she couldn’t shake the memory of the stranger’s warning or the look in Max’s eyes. The secrets he carried were dragging them both into deeper waters, and she didn’t know how much longer they could walk.

But one thing was clear: whatever the gang wanted, they weren’t going to wait much longer to get it. And when the storm finally hit, Rory feared it would leave nothing but destruction in its wake.