A Fractured Alliance

The next morning brought little clarity, only more questions and the heavy tension of unresolved facts. Rory paced her room, Camille’s warning repeating in her mind: Max isn’t just playing his own game. He’s playing everyone’s. But her mother’s mysterious words only fueled her drive. If no one else would give her answers, she’d find them herself.

The house felt emptier than usual as she made her way downstairs. The air seemed to pulse with unease, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. She’d barely taken a step into the library when a familiar voice stopped her.

“You’re becoming a problem.”

Rory turned sharply to see Max resting against the doorway. His suit was perfect as always, but there was a hardness in his eyes that sent a chill through her. He stepped into the room, his moves slow and deliberate, like an animal closing in on its prey.

“Good morning to you too,” Rory said, her voice thick with sarcasm. She crossed her arms, unwilling to let him frighten her.

Max’s gaze narrowed. “You’ve been digging where you don’t belong.”

“Funny, I thought this was my life,” she shot back. “Maybe if you stopped lying to me, I wouldn’t have to dig.”

He stepped closer, the tension between them burning. “This isn’t a game, Rory. You don’t understand the kind of danger you’re going into.”

“Then explain it to me,” she demanded, her voice rising. “Stop hiding behind your secrets and tell me what’s going on!”

Max’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might finally let her in. But then he shook his head, his face stiffening. “Stay out of it. That’s the only way you’ll stay safe.”

Rory’s chest heaved with frustration. “Safe? Do you think I feel safe knowing my family is mixed up in whatever mess this is? That Rossini is out there pulling strings? Or that my own husband refuses to tell me the truth?”

Max’s gaze softened just slightly, but his words stayed firm. “This is bigger than you, Rory. Bigger than your family. If you’re smart, you’ll let it go.”

“And if I don’t?” she asked, moving closer. “What are you going to do, Max? Lock me in this house? Pretend I don’t exist?”

He didn’t answer, his silence saying volumes. Rory’s heart twisted, anger and sadness mixing in her chest.

“You’re unbelievable,” she said, her voice shaking. “You claim you’re trying to protect me, but all you’ve done is shut me out. I don’t need your safety, Max. I need the truth.”

Max stared at her for a long moment, his face blank. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “If you keep pushing, you’re going to get hurt. And I’m not sure I can save you when that happens.”

Rory’s stomach churned, but she refused to back down. “Then I’ll save myself.”

Without waiting for his answer, she turned and walked out of the room, her heart racing. She didn’t know where she was going, but she needed to get away from him—from his halftruths and his threats.

Rory found herself in the mansion’s west wing, a place she rarely visited. The halls were lined with paintings of longdead Rykards, their stern faces seeming to watch her as she passed. She stopped in front of a door she’d never noticed before, its brass handle softened with age.

Pushing it open, she stepped into what looked to be an old study. Dust motes danced in the sunlight coming through the tall windows, and the faint smell of leather and aged paper filled the air. Unlike Max’s sleek, modern office, this room felt untouched, almost forgotten.

Rory’s eyes swept the room, landing on a desk piled with yellowed papers. Her attention piqued, she moved closer, her fingers brushing over the papers. Most were old financial records and letters, but one envelope caught her eye. It was written to Max, the handwriting bold and foreign.

She opened it, her breath catching as she read the contents. The letter was from Rossini, his words laced with veiled threats and strange references to “unfinished business.”

Max isn’t just playing his own game. He’s playing everyone’s.

Camille’s warning rang in her ears as she folded the letter and tucked it into her pocket. Whatever Max was involved in, it was clear Rossini was holding something over him. But what?

Rory’s search continued, her hands shaking as she sifted through the papers. She found a picture tucked between two pieces of paper. It was a picture of a woman holding a young boy, her smile bright. Rory’s stomach twisted as she recognized Max as the child.

But it was the woman who held her attention. She didn’t match anyone from the Rykard family photos. Who was she? And why was this picture hidden away?

By the time Rory returned to her room, her mind was spinning. She locked the door behind her, pulling out the letter and the picture. She spread them on the desk alongside the flash drive, the parts of the riddle slowly coming together.

Max wasn’t just hiding things from her. He was hiding things about himself. His link to Rossini, the woman in the picture, the threats—it all pointed to a past he was desperate to keep buried.

Rory’s decision hardened. If Max wouldn’t tell her the truth, she’d find it herself. She pulled out her laptop, plugging in the flash drive. The files opened, and she began to search for any sign that might tie the pieces together.

Hours passed as she sorted through the info. Her eyes burned from looking at the screen, but she refused to stop. Then she found it—a series of transactions tied to a fake company. The name on the account sent a chill down her spine: Sophia Laurent.

The name didn’t match anyone she knew, but it felt important. She clicked through the files, her heart racing as more information appeared. Whoever Sophia was, she’d been involved with Rossini’s operations. And somehow, Max was connected to her.

A sudden knock on the door made Rory jump. She slammed her laptop shut, her pulse beating in her ears. “Who is it?” she called, trying to keep her voice steady.

“It’s me,” Max’s voice came from the other side. “We need to talk.”

Rory paused, her mind racing. She quickly slid the flash drive into her pocket and opened the door. Max stood there, his face guarded.

“What do you want?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“I know you’ve been digging,” he said, his tone quiet but strong. “And I know you found something.”

Rory’s stomach twisted, but she forced herself to meet his eyes. “What if I have? Are you going to scare me again?”

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not here to threaten you, Rory. I’m here to warn you. If you keep going down this road, you’re going to find things you can’t unlearn.”

“Maybe I want to,” she shot back. “Maybe I’m done being in the dark.”

Max’s eyes softened, but there was a sadness in them that made her chest ache. “I’m trying to protect you,” he said softly. “Even if you don’t want me to.”

Rory shook her head, her anger bubbling over. “I don’t need your protection, Max. I need the truth. And I’ll find it—with or without your help.”

For a moment, Max said nothing, his eyes locked onto hers. Then he stepped back, his face unreadable. “Do what you have to do. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As he walked away, Rory’s heart pounded in her chest. The fractured partnership between them had all but shattered, and she knew there was no going back now. Whatever secrets Max was hiding, she was determined to find them—no matter the cost.