Chapter 7 The Vault of Lies

Rain splashed across the windows like a thick, constant battle drum. The safe house was buried far in the countryside, a fortress encircled by trees, fog, and quiet that felt like a loaded rifle ready to fire.

Maya paced the marble floor, her arms tightly curled about herself. The scent of old wood and storm clung to the air. Her mind was spinning, clawing for answers. Everything she had ever believed-about herself, her family, and especially Alexander-was unraveling. Every truth she'd built her world on was now crumbling like wet paper.

"We're moving in tonight," Alexander announced, entering the room. The black T-shirt stuck to his still-bandaged torso, wet from sweat and sticking to the sharp lines of his body. He appeared pale and tired, but his eyes, those steel-gray flames, blazed with unwavering determination.

Maya stopped in her tracks. "To Victoria's vault? That's suicide."

"So is sitting on our hands while she wipes out every trace of the truth," he replied, voice low but sure.

Liam leaned against the wall near the window, loading bullets into a matte pistol. Rain light caught the cold glint of metal. "I hate to say it, but he's right. If the ledger exists, we need it now. It's our only weapon."

"And you just expect me to stroll into the Knight estate with you two like it's some casual mission?" Maya asked, eyes sharp.

Alexander stepped closer, his voice soft but anchored in steel. "You're not a pawn, Maya. You're the queen. You end this game."

Her stomach twisted, breath catching. The gravity in his voice-she felt it everywhere.

Liam made a face. "Jesus, did you rehearse that line?"

Alexander ignored him, still looking at her. "She deserves to hear it."

Maya stared back, silent. The fear didn't vanish-but something rose above it. Fire. Resolve. "Then let's burn her empire down."

Three hours later, they rolled up to the east side of the Knight estate in a blacked-out SUV. Thunder cracked above them, and the estate loomed like a fortress wrapped in secrets.

"This place gives me hives," Liam muttered.

"Focus," Alexander said, exiting the car. The cold rain soaked into his clothes almost instantly.

Maya followed, teeth chattering. The chill was terrible, but adrenaline held it at bay. Her palm brushed the hidden knife at her hip, and her fingertips had never felt firmer.

Alexander led them to a forgotten servants' entrance overgrown with ivy. "Victoria sealed this after my father died. Thought no one knew it existed."

"You did?" Maya asked.

"Found it when I was fourteen," he said. "I was hiding from her."

The weight of his words struck her. That kind of boy never had a childhood-he had a battlefield. Her chest hurt for him in ways she had not anticipated.

The rusting door cracked when it opened. The scent of mildew and damp stone rushed out.

Inside, their footsteps echoed eerily. Every hallway, every shadow whispered danger. Maya could feel the estate breathing around them-watching. Paint peeled off the high ceilings like shedding skin, and portraits glared from darkened frames.

They reached the vault door, a biometric scanner pulsing red.

Alexander pulled a tiny black device from his jacket. "This should spoof the reader."

"Should?" Liam asked, aiming his gun behind them.

Maya muttered, "Great. We're trusting a gadget."

The device blinked green. The lock hissed open.

The vault was a cavern of secrets. Floor-to-ceiling file cabinets. Boxes labeled with names. Shelves full of old ledgers. A steel desk in the center. Cold. Surgical. The air buzzed with history, heavy and damning.

"Holy hell," Liam breathed.

Alexander grabbed a thick folder, his hands trembling. "She kept everything."

Maya opened a red leather-bound book. The air left her lungs.

"Bank transfers. Bribes. Even the judge from my mother's case," she said. "She paid them all."

Alexander flipped through another file. "She buried your mom's entire life. And made sure no one could ever trace it."

Maya's fingers trembled. She turned another page-

Her mother. Visibly pregnant. Guarded by Knight security.

"That's her. That's my mom."

Crash.

Above them. Loud. Closer.

Liam drew his weapon. "Company."

"Grab what you can!" Alexander barked. "Now!"

Maya shoved the book in her bag. Liam took three more. Alexander grabbed the hard drive.

Gunfire exploded down the hall.

"Run!"

They dashed into the corridor, pursued by bullets and shouting. The atmosphere was overflowing with smoke and adrenaline. Walls blurred. Heartbeats roared. Time distorted.

Two guards appeared from the shadows. Liam shot first-both men dropped.

"GO! I'll cover!"

"Liam, NO!"

"I'll find you later-MOVE!"

Maya's heart screamed. But Alexander dragged her, blood already soaking his shoulder.

They reached the garden. Rain, cold and endless. They slipped through the trees, branches slicing at their skin.

The car was there. Thank God.

They dove inside. Tires skidded. They vanished into the storm.

Back at the safe house, the storm still raged.

Maya sat with the red book cradled in her lap. Her face pale, wet hair clinging to her skin. Alexander was on his knees in front of her, wrapping her sprained ankle with precise hands.

"You did good," he said softly.

She didn't look at him. "I was shaking the whole time."

"You still didn't break."

Their eyes met. For the first time, she saw him not as the billionaire tyrant, but the man underneath-all bruises and guilt and quiet fire.

His hand went up her leg, the fingertips warm on her skin.

"What are you doing?" she inhaled.

"What I should've done a long time ago."

He kissed her. At first gentle. Then like he couldn't breathe without her.

Their clothes fell away. Lips, skin, breath-all blurred together.

"God, Maya..."

"Don't stop."

She leaned into him, pushing her fingers into his back. His mouth touched her neck, breast, and hips. He moved like a man desperate to prove he still had something worth saving.

They clung to each other-urgent, raw, real. The world could burn, but in that moment, they had nothing but each other.

She whispered his name like it meant survival. He murmured hers like it was a prayer. And for a fleeting moment, the storm outside couldn't touch them.

When they collapsed, breathless and tangled in sheets, a fragile peace settled around them-until the phone vibrated.

Maya jolted.

She reached for it with trembling hands.

Unknown number.

She opened it.

A photo.

A little boy.

His eyes were hers.

The message: "He's ours. And he's not safe."

She gasped. Her scream cracked the night open.

Alexander grabbed the phone, pale as death.

He looked at her.

"Maya... is that our son?"

The words struck her like a jackhammer. She couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Her throat clenched, and tears sprung in her eyes.

"I don't know," she muttered. "I-I didn't think-"

Alexander sat up straighter, face ashen. "Did anyone else know? Did you tell anyone, ever?"

"No," Maya said, her voice breaking. "I didn't even know it was real. I assumed it was a dream... or an error."

He leaned out and brushed her hair off from her sweaty forehead. "If he's out there, Maya... we have to search for him."

Then-the front door exploded open, splinters flying.

Gunfire.

Someone screamed.

And the nightmare wasn't over.

It was just beginning.