A few minutes had passed and it was almost morning. Her heart pounded in her chest as she made her way to the secret underground area.
Her steps echoed off the stone walls as she descended the narrow staircase, the air growing cooler with each step. 
As she rounded the final corner, a gasp escaped her lips. The musty scent of old paper and ink filled her nostrils, mingling with a faint, metallic tang that set her on edge. She hurriedly approached him, Anthony that is unconscious. 
His normally vibrant face was pale, his breath shallow. Panic surged through her as she hurriedly approached him, her mind racing with questions. What had happened? Did Axel do this? He had gone out first, but now she wasn't sure if she could trust anything he had said.
"Anthony, Anthony, wake up," she pleaded, gently shaking him.
Her eyes widened as she noticed the wound on the side of his stomach, blood seeping through his shirt and pooling on the ground. She tore a strip of fabric from her own clothing and pressed it against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
As she glanced around the room, her eyes caught sight of scattered documents, their edges curling with age and neglect. One document in particular stood out, its bold title drawing her attention, "Last Will and Testament."
With a sinking feeling, Victoria approached the papers, her fingers trembling as she picked them up. She began to read, her heart heavy with each word. The truth slowly unfolded before her, each revelation more shocking than the last. Mr. Jaxon, the man she had believed to be her father, was not her father at all.
"Uncle! He's my uncle! All this time? Such a great deceiver!" she cried out, her voice echoing off the stone walls.
Anger built up in her heart, a burning fury that seemed to grow with each document she read. Illegal transactions, guns, bullets, forged documents, and evidence of money spent to eliminate someone. The implications were staggering, each piece of evidence painting a picture of a man she had never truly known.
"L-Letters?" she stammered, her voice breaking as she spotted a bundle of letters tied together with a frayed ribbon.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she read the first letter. Each letter was dated, marking birthdays, Christmases, and other celebrations she had missed. Every heartfelt word, every loving sentiment, had been kept from her, locked away in this hidden room.
Her hands shook as she clutched the letters to her chest, tears streaming down her face. The betrayal cut deep, leaving her feeling raw and exposed. And she would ensure that those who had wronged her and her father would pay dearly.
Suddenly, the door clicked shut with a chilling finality, the sound reverberating through the room and sending a shiver down Victoria's spine.
"Who's there? Open the door!" Victoria's voice echoed, a mixture of anger and desperation.
A slow, mocking applause began, its source soon revealed as Mr. Jaxon
"Well done, Mae. I knew we'd end up in this situation, but what can you do now?" His voice dripped with condescension as he twisted the key, ensuring the lock was secure, trapping Anthony and Victoria inside.
Victoria's eyes blazed with fury. "What can I do? You should be imprisoned! No, I'll be the one to kill you when I get out of here."
Mr. Jaxon chuckled darkly, his amusement evident. "Will you really get out? Your Anthony is injured too."
Her heart skipped a beat. "You? Did you do this to Blaze?"
"So you know he's Blaze? The world is indeed small for you two to meet again," Mr. Jaxon mused, his laughed mockingly. "But it's better this way. You'll both say goodbye to the world together."
Victoria's tears began to flow as she listened to his footsteps fading away, the sound growing fainter with each passing second until it was replaced by a suffocating silence.
"Anthony!" she called out, rushing to his side as he struggled to sit up, a pained expression on his face.
"Is your wound okay?" Victoria asked, her voice cracking.
Anthony grimaced, his hand pressing against his side where blood stained his shirt. "I was tricked by Axel. I never thought he'd do that."
Anthony grimaced, his hand pressing against his side where blood stained his shirt. "I was tricked by Axel. I never thought he'd do that."
"S-Sorry, if I had known, I would've stopped him earlier. And now we're locked in here, Mr. Jaxon knows everything."
Anthony's eyes softened as he reached out, his hand gently cupping her cheek. Victoria looked up, their eyes locking in an intense gaze.
"You've done nothing wrong, Victoria. Didn't I tell you I'd protect you? Just trust me," he said softly, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from her cheek.
Victoria tightened her grip on Anthony's hand. She never expected to see him again like this.
"I don't want to be called Victoria anymore, Mae... I'm Mae. I feel disgusted now whenever I'm called by the name Mr. Jaxon chose for me!"
His eyes softened, and a genuine smile spread across his face. "Mae, Gladius Mae. It suits you better, like a flower that symbolizes strength and victory."
She smiled, feeling comfort and relief.
"Wait, I have a cellphone here," Mae said, her voice laced with both hope and skepticism. "But I'm sure there's no signal in here."
She fumbled with the device, her hands shaking slightly. As expected, the screen remained stubbornly devoid of any bars. The oppressive walls of their prison seemed to swallow any chance of outside connection.
Blaze reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small lock-picking set. The tools were slim and efficient, designed to be easily concealed and carried.
Kneeling by the door, Blaze selected a tension wrench and an appropriate pick. Blaze inserted the tension wrench into the bottom of the keyhole and applied gentle pressure, just enough to slightly turn the lock cylinder.
Next, he slid the pick into the top of the keyhole, feeling for the pins inside. He had practiced this technique countless times, and muscle memory guided his movements. One by one, he carefully lifted each pin, listening for the telltale click that indicated it was set in place.
The lock was a standard pin-tumbler type, With each pin set, he could feel the tension wrench gaining more purchase on the lock cylinder.
"Almost there," he muttered, focusing on the last pin. It was slightly more stubborn than the others, but with a gentle nudge, it finally clicked into place.
Blaze turned the tension wrench fully, and the lock cylinder rotated, unlocking the door.
"Let's go," he urged, extending his hand towards Mae.
She took it without hesitation, her grip firm with newfound determination. Together, they stepped out of the room