Chapter 14: Rory’s Infiltration

Rory lay awake in her room, the dim glow of moonlight streaming through the curtains. Sleep was impossible. The stranger’s warning, Max’s cryptic words, and the suffocating weight of unsolved questions pressed heavily on her. She couldn’t shake the nagging thought that there was something more—something Max wasn’t telling her, something hidden within the walls of this house.

If Max wouldn’t share the truth, she’d find it herself.

Her mind raced with options as she sat up in bed, determination settling in her chest. Max’s study held the answers. It always had. She’d seen the tension in his eyes when he emerged from there, the way he guarded its contents like a fortress. Tonight, she’d breach it.

Slipping on a pair of softsoled shoes and a dark hoodie, Rory steeled herself. The mansion was vast, but she knew its paths by now. Silently, she eased her door open and stepped into the darkened hallway.

The study door loomed ahead, its polished wood mirroring the faint light of a nearby sconce. Rory’s heart pounded as she reached for the handle. Locked, as she expected. She’d expected this and pulled a hairpin from her pocket. Her hands shook slightly, but she forced herself to focus.

With a soft click, the lock gave way. Rory slipped inside, closed the door behind her. The study smelled slightly of leather and whiskey, the air heavy with an unspoken weight. The big mahogany desk sat at the room’s center, papers and files neatly arranged on its surface. But Rory’s attention was pulled to a sleek black filing cabinet in the corner—its lock shining faintly in the dim light.

Crossing the room, she crouched in front of the cupboard. This lock was more secure, but Rory’s drive didn’t falter. After several tense minutes, it too clicked open. She pulled the drawer out slowly, her breath catching as she saw the files within.

One file in particular caught her eye. It was written with nothing more than a single word: Elias.

Rory paused for a moment before opening the file. Inside were photos, papers, and handwritten notes. The first picture made her stomach drop. It was of a young boy, no older than ten. His dark hair fell over his forehead, and his piercing blue eyes were obvious. He looked just like Max.

Her hands shook as she flipped through the papers. Birth records, custody agreements, and legal letters filled the folder, all tied to Elias Rykard. The boy’s name rang in her mind as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

Max has a son?

The realization hit her like a huge wave. Max had never mentioned a child. Not once. Yet here it was, proof of a life he’d hidden from her. But why? And where was Elias now?

Rory’s eyes fell on a letter tucked into the back of the file. The handwriting was new, sharp and precise. She unfolded it carefully, her pulse increasing as she read:

Max,

You can’t run forever. Elias will always be a target as long as you refuse to help. The gang doesn’t forget, and they don’t forgive. Protecting him won’t save you. You know what they want. Deliver it, or watch everything you care about burn.

The letter was anonymous, but Rory didn’t need a name to know who had written it. Rossini’s shadow loomed big over every word.

Her chest tensed as the pieces began to fall into place. Max wasn’t just protecting himself. He was protecting Elias. The boy wasn’t just a secret; he was leverage—a tool Rossini could use to force Max’s hand.

Footsteps echoed softly in the hall, pulling Rory from her thoughts. Panic rushed through her as she quickly returned the file to the cabinet and locked it. She barely had time to slip into the darkness before the door opened.

Max entered, his face tense. He moved to the desk, unaware of her presence, and started sorting through papers. Rory held her breath, her heart beating in her chest. She knew she should leave, but her feet refused to move. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.

Max’s shoulders sagged slightly, his normal composure cracking as he ran a hand through his hair. He looked tired, almost beaten. Rory had never seen him like this. The weight of his secrets was crushing him, and for the first time, she felt a pang of compassion.

She stepped forward, unable to stay hidden any longer. “Max.”

He turned quickly, his eyes narrowing when he saw her. “What are you doing here?”

Rory paused, her mind racing for an excuse. But the words came out before she could stop them. “Who is Elias?”

Max’s expression hardened quickly, his eyes flashing with anger. “How do you know that name?”

She took a step closer, her voice steady despite the storm building in his gaze. “I found the file. I know he’s your kid, Max. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Max’s jaw stiffened, his hands clenching into fists. “Because it’s none of your business.”

“None of my business?” Rory repeated, her voice rising. “You dragged me into this mess, into your war with Rossini, and you expect me to believe that your son isn’t my business? Don’t you see that everything you’ve kept from me is putting us both in danger?”

Max’s silence was deafening, his eyes locked on hers. For a moment, she thought he might finally open up. But instead, he turned away, his shoulders rigid.

“Elias is safe,” he said eventually, his voice low. “That’s all you need to know.”

Rory’s anger boiled over. “Safe? From what? From Rossini? From the syndicate? Max, I need to know what’s going on. If you won’t tell me, how am I supposed to trust you?”

He turned back to her, his eyes glowing. “Trust isn’t a luxury we have, Rory. Not in this world. The less you know, the safer you are. That’s all that matters.”

Rory’s chest tightened, anger and pain warring within her. “I’m already in danger, Max. Keeping me in the dark doesn’t protect me. It just makes me feel like a player in whatever game you’re playing.”

Max’s look softened, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. But it was gone as fast as it came, replaced by his usual stoic mask. “Go back to bed, Rory. This conversation is over.”

She wanted to argue, to demand the answers he refused to give. But the look in his eyes stopped her. It wasn’t just anger or rage. It was fear.

Without another word, she turned and left the study, her mind running. The finding of Elias had changed everything. Max wasn’t just fighting for himself. He was fighting for his son.

But as Rory lay in bed, looking at the ceiling, one question refused to leave her mind:

What will Rossini do if Max fails?