CHAPTER 6

I pressed my ear harder against the cold steel door, my body tense as I strained to make out the muffled voices inside. Razor’s rough, gravelly tone was unmistakable, and although the other man spoke softer, his words carried a nervous edge. My pulse thundered in my ears, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t look away from whatever truth was hidden just beyond the door.

“She’s becoming a problem,” Razor said, his voice sharp and steady.

“You think she knows?” the other man asked, uncertainty dripping from his tone.

“Not yet,” Razor muttered, a long pause stretching between his words. “But if she keeps digging—”

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor cut him off, and then came the steady thud of his boots, moving closer to the door. My breath hitched as panic exploded in my chest.

I darted into the shadows of the hallway, pressing myself flat against the wall. My heartbeat roared in my ears as I held my breath, praying Razor wouldn’t step outside. The seconds stretched painfully, but he never appeared. Instead, his voice dipped lower, indistinct murmurs blending with the other man’s.

I exhaled shakily, my knees weak as I tried to make sense of what I’d heard. What were they talking about? And why did it feel like they were talking about me?

"You’re getting reckless, Elara."

I jumped at the sound of Lysandra’s voice, spinning around to find her leaning casually against the wall, her arms crossed and a frown tugging at her lips.

“Lysandra!” I hissed, my voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

She raised an eyebrow. “The better question is, what are *you* doing here? Eavesdropping on Razor? That’s not just stupid—it’s suicidal.”

I scowled at her, brushing past her and further down the hall. She followed close behind, her boots clicking softly on the floor.

“Keep your voice down,” I whispered harshly.

Lysandra grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop. Her dark eyes locked onto mine, filled with a mixture of frustration and concern. “Elara, listen to me. This isn’t a game. Razor isn’t the kind of man you want to mess with. If he catches you—”

“I don’t care,” I snapped, cutting her off. “Something is going on, and it has to do with my mother. Razor knows something, and I’m not going to stop until I figure out what it is.”

Her grip on my arm tightened. “Sometimes, not knowing is better. Trust me on this. You don’t want to dig too deep into Razor’s business. It never ends well.”

I wrenched my arm free, my eyes narrowing. “I don’t have a choice, Lysandra. I need answers. If you’re not going to help me, then stay out of my way.”

Her face softened for a moment, but then she shook her head, stepping back. “You’re going to get yourself killed, Elara.”

“Maybe,” I said, turning and walking away. “But at least I’ll know the truth.”

---

That night, the mansion was eerily quiet. Razor and most of his men were locked in a meeting, giving me the perfect opportunity. My hands trembled as I pushed open the door to Razor’s office.

The room was dim, the faint glow of a desk lamp casting shadows on the walls. The scent of leather and tobacco lingered in the air, making my stomach churn. I didn’t have time to hesitate.

I moved quickly, my eyes darting around the room. The drawers of Razor’s desk were locked, but I found a paperclip on the floor and got to work. My heart pounded as I fiddled with the lock, the seconds stretching into what felt like hours. Finally, the drawer clicked open.

Inside was a stack of papers, a few photographs, and a worn leather notebook. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Slowly, I reached for the photographs.

The first one stopped me cold.

It was my mother. She was younger than I remembered, her face brighter but her smile stiff. She was standing next to a man I didn’t recognize, their arms barely touching. There was something unsettling about the way they were posed, like they were being forced to smile for someone else’s benefit.

“Who are you?” I whispered to the man in the photo, my fingers brushing against the image.

Before I could think further, a voice cut through the silence.

“Looking for something?”

I froze. Slowly, I turned to see Razor standing in the doorway, his dark eyes locked onto mine.

Panic shot through me, but I tried to keep my face neutral. “I… I was just—”

“Save it,” he snapped, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. His calm tone was more terrifying than if he’d yelled. “You think I don’t know what you’ve been up to? You think I don’t see you sneaking around, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?”

I swallowed hard, clutching the photograph behind my back. “I wasn’t—”

“Enough,” Razor barked, his voice thundering through the room. I flinched, my heart hammering against my ribs.

He stalked toward me, his presence overwhelming. “You want to prove yourself useful? Fine. But this little stunt just made things a lot harder for you.”

He reached past me and grabbed a file from the desk, shoving it into my hands. “Deliver this to Cain. Now. And don’t even think about looking inside.”

I nodded quickly, clutching the file like a lifeline.

As I turned to leave, Razor’s voice stopped me cold.

“Oh, and Elara?”

I glanced back at him, my stomach sinking.

“You get one warning. Just one. If you pull something like this again, there won’t be a next time.”

His words hung heavy in the air, and I nodded, too terrified to speak.

---

Later that night, I sat on my bed, the photo of my mother and the mysterious man laid out in front of me. My fingers traced their faces, questions swirling in my mind.

What was Razor hiding? Who was the man in the photo? And what did any of this have to do with me?

I didn’t have the answers, but one thing was clear—Razor knew more about my mother than he let on.

I clenched the photograph tightly, determination burning in my chest. He could threaten me all he wanted. He could try to scare me into submission. But I wasn’t going to stop.

Not until I had the truth.