Chapter 5

The wooden door groaned as Kaitlyn pushed it open, cold air rushed out like it had been held for decades.

She hesitated for a moment before she stepped into the corridor, lit only by flickering sconces that cast shadows on the walls

Here had the scent of dust, metal and something faintly herbal

The hallway narrowed, twisting under Blackthorn Manor. Her heart pounded with each cautious step, the folded note still clenched in her first like talisman

The walls were lined with symbols she couldn't decipher. Wolves, serpent, a dagger dripping blood. Symbols that didn't belong in a Mafia estate

This place was scared to be a vault

She stopped when reached a sealed iron gate which barred the chamber beyond.

It bore a crest, two serpents coiled around a crown with the initials R.D

“Robert Drake,” she whispered. “But my father's name is Robert Hart.”

A shimmer ran down her spine. The puzzle pieces were shifting. Her father had never told her anything about the Drakes but now everything pointed to a truth buried too deep

It didn't make sense or maybe it did. Maybe nothing she had known about her father had ever been true

Beside the gate embedded in the wall, was a keyhole

But no key

A low creak behind her made her turn

Callum.

His dark silhouette stood in the corridor, face cast half in shadow and half in fury

Rain dampened his shirt and in his hand gleamed a small device, the surveillance control remote

“You weren't meant to see this” he growled

Kaitlyn backed towards the gate. “You followed me”

“No, I led you” he said

Her eyes narrowed “what are you talking about?”

Callum stepped closer, like a predator

“You think Elena helped you? You think that note was her idea? I planted the seed. I wanted to see if you had chased the truth your father died protecting.”

“Why play games”

He stopped inches away from her. “Because the only way to know if you can survive in my world, is to let you wander into the fire."

"You could’ve just told me…”

"You wouldn’t have believed me," he snapped. "And I needed to know if you had the courage to keep going."

Kaitlyn’s breath trembled. "So this… this was a test?"

"And you passed."

She turned to the gate again. "What's behind here?"

"The vault your father built. Containing every of his secrets, his betrayal, his redemption."

"I need the key."

Callum reached into his pocket and drew out a chain. On it, a small iron key glinted.

She held her breath as he held it out.

"But once we open this door," he warned, "there's no going back. What lies beyond might change everything."

Kaitlyn took the key.

With shaking hands, she stepped forward, pressed the key into the lock and turned.

The iron gate groaned open.

Inside, a hidden chamber, lined with shelves, lockboxes, crates. Weapons. Ledgers. Photos. Maps. Blueprints. Faces and names of some she recognized from news headlines, others she'd never seen. And in the center, a steel table with a single folder upon it.

Callum stepped past her, picked up the folder, and opened it.

"You should read this."

Kaitlyn stepped in and she took the pages.

Her father’s handwriting covered the page.

“If you're reading this, I'm gone. And if you've found this place, it means my sins have reached you. I'm sorry, Kaitlyn. I never wanted this life for you. But if anyone can finish what I started—it’s you.”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

The files in this vault hold evidence. Banking routes, shipment logs, blackmail documents, and data that can tear apart the Santiago Cartel and every corrupt ally they have. Callum Drake included.

Her head snapped up.

Callum met her gaze without blinking.

"He didn't trust you," she whispered.

"He shouldn’t have. But I’m not the man I was ten years ago.”

Her father hadn’t just betrayed the cartel.

He’d created a system to destroy them all.

And Callum knew.

That’s why she was still alive.

She closed the folder.

“So… what happens now?”

Callum stepped closer, voice low.

“Now? You stop being afraid. You stop running. You stop pretending you're powerless.”

He met her gaze, unblinking.

“You are not a prisoner, Kaitlyn. You are a weapon. And it’s time you act like one.”

Meanwhile…

Elena knelt in the study, blood trailing from her mouth, hands bound. Vincent loomed beside her, watching as Callum reviewed the surveillance feeds.

"She’s in the vault," Vincent said.

"And she knows," Callum replied.

Elena raised her head. "She has to know. She deserves the truth."

"Truth has a price," Callum murmured. "And she’s about to pay for it."

Vincent glanced down at Elena. "Do we kill her?"

"No. Lock her in the cellar. If Kaitlyn finds out Elena knew her mother, it could compromise everything."

Back in the vault, Kaitlyn sat on the cold stone floor, pages scattered around her. Files. Accounts. Photographs. Her hands were shaking.

One picture made her freeze, a photo of her mother. Younger, beautiful, standing beside young Callum.

Her voice cracked. "You knew her."

Callum looked away.

"Tell me."

He didn't speak for a long time.

Finally, he said, "She was the only woman I ever trusted before everything changed."

Kaitlyn stared at him. "Then why didn’t you protect her?"

"Because I was the reason she died."

Her heart stopped. "What?"

"She was undercover and an informant. The cartel found out. Your father saved you, but he couldn’t save her."

Kaitlyn stood, rage and grief surging. "You let her die."

"No. I watched her die. There’s a difference."

She shoved past him, chest heaving. "I need air."

He grabbed her wrist. "You need to stay."

She yanked free. "I need to breathe."

That night, Kaitlyn returned to the Room, her hands still stained with ink, her mind on fire with everything she’d learned.

She didn’t sleep.

She couldn’t.

She had watched him leave earlier, her heart pounding from the ache of what she had come to know and the realization that Blackthorn wasn't just a cage.

It was a puzzle and Callum Drake was its most dangerous piece.