Chapter 17: Henri’s Truth
Rory’s hands gripped the edges of the kitchen counter, her fingers white from the force. The silence of the house loomed around her, thick and heavy, but her mind was anything but calm. Her talk with Max had left her rattled. Her father had hidden a code on her skin—tattoos she had thought were useless art—and now, Valentin Rossini was circling like a vulture.
And then there was Henri.
Henri had always been a constant in her life. Her father’s righthand man, the everfaithful protector of the Dumont family heritage. But now, as Rory replayed Rossini’s cryptic words and Max’s evasions, a new thought crept into her mind. What if Henri wasn’t as reliable as she’d always believed?
She found herself pacing the halls, her feet carrying her toward Henri’s rooms without conscious thought. The door to his office was slightly ajar, and she could hear the faint rustling of papers from inside. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open.
Henri looked up from his desk, his dark eyes sharp and assessing. He didn’t seem surprised to see her.
“Mademoiselle Rory,” he said, his tone calm. “You’re up early. Or have you not slept?”
She dismissed his question, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. “We need to talk,” she said, her voice stronger than she felt.
Henri leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his chest. “About?”
“About my father,” Rory said, her green eyes hardening. “About the syndicate. About what you know and what you’re not telling me.”
For the first time, a flash of something unreadable crossed Henri’s face. But he recovered quickly, his expression returning to its normal stoicism.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said equally.
Rory’s anger boiled over. “Don’t lie to me, Henri. I know you’re involved in this somehow. Rossini’s name keeps coming up, and every time it does, it feels like there’s more to the story than anyone’s willing to admit.”
Henri sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Your father was a complicated man, Mademoiselle. He made choices—choices he thought were essential to protect your family. But those choices came with consequences.”
“What kind of consequences?” Rory pressed.
Henri hesitated, his eyes darting to the window as if looking for an escape. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. “Your father made a deal with the syndicate years ago. He thought he could handle the situation, keep them at arm’s length. But no one runs the syndicate. Not even Valentin Rossini.”
Rory’s chest tightened. “And you? Were you part of that deal?”
Henri’s gaze snapped back to hers, his face hardening. “I did what I had to do to keep your family safe.”
“That’s not an answer,” Rory said, her voice shaking. “What did you do, Henri?”
He stood suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor. “You think this is easy for me?” he snapped. “I watched your father gamble with forces he didn’t understand. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen. And now… now you’re caught in the middle of something far bigger than you realize.”
Rory took a step back, startled by the intensity in his words. “Then help me understand,” she said softly. “If you know something, tell me. I need to know the truth, Henri.”
He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “Some truths are more dangerous than lies, Mademoiselle. What I know… it won’t help you. It will only make things worse.”
Rory’s anger bubbled over. “I’m already in danger! Rossini is watching me, Max is hiding secrets, and now you’re telling me there’s even more I don’t know? Stop treating me like a child, Henri. I deserve to know what’s going on.”
Henri’s shoulders slumped, the fight drained out of him. He returned to his chair, his moves slow and deliberate. “Your father wasn’t just hiding a code,” he said softly. “He was hiding the means to destroy the syndicate.”
Rory’s breath caught. “What do you mean?”
Henri’s eyes met hers, the weight of his words pressing down on both of them. “The code embedded in your tattoos isn’t just a key. It’s a map—a guide to something your father made. Something that could bring down Rossini and his entire operation.”
Rory’s mind raced, the consequences hitting her like a tidal wave. “Why didn’t he use it?”
“Because he knew the cost,” Henri said. “The syndicate doesn’t play fair, Mademoiselle. If he’d made a move against them, they would’ve responded. He thought he could beat them, keep you safe by staying quiet.”
“And now?” Rory asked, her voice shaking. “What happens now that they know I’m involved?”
Henri’s silence was answer enough. The gang wouldn’t stop until they got what they wanted.
That night, Rory sat in her room, looking at the sketches of her tattoos spread across her desk. Henri’s words repeated in her mind, each one heavier than the last. The code wasn’t just a secret—it was a weapon. One her father had hidden on her skin without her knowledge.
She traced the lines of the patterns, her fingers trembling. What had her father made that was so dangerous? And how could she use it without harming everyone she cared about?
Her phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. She picked it up and saw a text from an unknown number:
Time’s running out, Aurélien. Choose your side.
Her heart pounded as she set the phone down. The storm was closing in, and she was caught in the eye of it. But one thing was clear: she couldn’t run from the truth anymore. If she was going to live, she’d have to face it headon.
And she’d start with Max.
As the clock ticked past midnight, Rory made her choice. She grabbed the sketches, shoved them into a folder, and headed for the study. It was time for answers—no matter the cost.
The halls of the mansion were eerily silent as Rory made her way toward Max’s study. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of her choice pressing down on her. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find—or what she hoped Max would tell her—but she knew she couldn’t keep navigating this maze of lies alone.
When she reached the study, the door was slightly ajar, a faint light spilling into the hallway. She paused for a moment, her hand hovering over the doorknob, before pushing it open.
Max was sitting at his desk, papers spread out before him. He looked up as she entered, his face guarded. “Rory,” he said, his tone a combination of surprise and caution. “It’s late.”
She closed the door behind her, holding the folder tightly in her hands. “We need to talk,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm of feelings swirling inside her.
Max leaned back in his chair, studying her carefully. “About what?”
“About my father,” she answered, stepping closer to the desk. “About the code. About everything you’ve been keeping from me.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond instantly. Instead, he pointed to the chair across from him. “Sit.”
Rory didn’t move. “I’m done sitting, Max. I’m done waiting for you to decide when I’m ready to know the truth. Henri told me about the plan. About how my father hid it in my tattoos.”
Max’s eyes narrowed. “Henri shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Maybe not,” Rory shot back, “but at least now I have some answers. What I don’t understand is why you’re still keeping me in the dark. What are you so afraid of?”
Max’s face hardened, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “I’m afraid of losing you,” he admitted quietly. “If Rossini finds out what that code leads to, he won’t just come after you. He’ll destroy everything and everyone you care about.”
Rory’s breath caught at the raw emotion in his words, but she refused to back down. “You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t already realized how dangerous this is? But keeping me in the dark isn’t helpful, Max. It’s only making things worse.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Your father thought he could outsmart Rossini. He thought he could hide the key to the syndicate’s defeat and protect his family at the same time. But he underestimated how far Rossini would go to get what he wanted.”
“What does the map lead to?” Rory asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Max paused, his gaze locked on hers. Finally, he said, “It leads to the ledger. A record of every deal, every transaction, every betrayal the syndicate has ever made. If it falls into the right hands, it could destroy Rossini’s entire empire.”
Rory’s mind raced as she processed his words. “Then why haven’t you used it? Why didn’t my father use it?”
“Because the ledger is a doubleedged sword,” Max said sadly. “Whoever holds it becomes a target. Your father knew that. He hoped he could keep it secret forever, but Rossini is too smart for that. And now that he knows you’re the key, he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”
Rory’s resolution hardened. “Then we can’t let him win.”
Max’s gaze softened, a flicker of respect breaking through his guarded expression. “You’re braver than you realize, Rory. But bravery won’t be enough.