Chapter 33

I ignore her, turning back to the punching bag. The solid thud of my fists against the bag is the only sound I allow myself to focus on. But I don't miss the flash of hurt that crosses her face, the way her shoulders sag just a little.

Why am I so fucking mad at her? Why can I find myself slowly forgiving Evelyn and Daniel, but not Madeline?

"I never meant to lie to you," she says quietly, her voice carrying a weight that pulls at something deep inside me. "I never wanted to hurt you."

I feel a spark of anger ignite in my chest, spreading like wildfire. I whirl around, my hands still raised, ready to fight. "What about leaving me? Abandoning me? Did you mean to do that?"

Madeline freezes, her entire body going rigid as if I've struck her. Slowly, she turns back to me, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. It's only then that I notice her hands are taped, just like mine.

My breath catches in my throat.

Is she here to spar? To practice? Does she fight?

I swallow hard, the image of the sad, distant woman who raised me colliding with this new, fierce side of her. The side that sits in boardrooms, with her shoulders pressed back, while everyone looks to her for answers.

It's confusing, to say the least.

My memories of Madeline are those of a woman who would sit on the sidelines, reading or staring off into space, while I trained with Miles and Char for endless hours.

As a child, I loved my aunt and uncle, but I blamed them for not letting me have a life. I was never allowed to leave our neighborhood. To go outside the shining steel fences I now know served as a barrier between us and our enemies. I lived a life filled with books and languages, where punching bags and staff were my only friends. I hated it. I hated Char and Miles. And because Madeline was always there, watching, but never stepping in, never intervening—I hated her.

Is that what this is? Is a five year old Skylar twisting with twenty-three year old Ella? Are the hurts mine, or my pasts?

I clench my fists as my heart pounds.

That's the fucking problem. I don't know what I feel or why. It's all just so much…too much.

As a child, I thought she didn't care, that she didn't want to pay attention to me. But now, standing here with my fists clenched and my heart pounding, I see things differently. Maybe she was just sad and lonely. Maybe she was giving us space to be a family without interrupting. Maybe she was supporting me from the sidelines in the only way she knew how.

But that doesn't make the hurt any less real.

Madeline's eyes flash with a mixture of heartbreak and anger as she takes a step closer. "You have no idea what I went through," she hisses, her voice trembling with emotion. "I came for you, Isabella. I came for you as soon as I could, but he followed me, he took me, and—" She looks away, her jaw tightening as if she's fighting back tears.

My shoulders drop as the weight of her words sinks in. "What happened, Madeline?"

She shakes her head, her hands falling to her sides as if the strength has drained out of her. I can see the pain etched into every line of her face, the sorrow she's been carrying for so long. But she's still holding back, still keeping me at arm's length, and it drives me crazy.

"You're right," I say, my voice rising with frustration. "I don't know what you went through because you won't tell me. I understand how badly some hurt aches, how deeply it festers, but how am I meant to understand if you won't—" I break off, my arms flailing helplessly as the words stick in my throat.

The silence between us stretches thin, heavy with all the things left unsaid. My mind races with questions, with memories that are only now beginning to make sense. There's so much I don't know, so much I've been kept in the dark about, and it feels like it's all crashing down on me at once.

But Madeline is here now, standing in front of me with that same mixture of heartbreak and anger in her eyes. And despite everything, despite the lies and the hurt, I can see the truth in her gaze. She's here because she cares, because she's always cared, even if she couldn't show it the way I needed her to.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, to find the right words. "Madeline, I need to know. I need to understand. Whatever it is, whatever happened… please, tell me."

She meets my eyes, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something—fear, maybe, or uncertainty. But then it's gone, replaced by a resolve that I've only ever seen a few times before. She nods slowly, as if making a decision, and takes a step closer.

"I'll tell you," she says, her voice firm but soft. "But you have to promise me one thing, Isabella. You have to promise me that you'll try to understand, that you'll listen with an open heart."

I nod, my throat tight. "I promise."

She hesitates, her gaze dropping to the floor before she looks back up at me. "It's not easy for me to talk about, but you deserve to know. After all this time, you deserve the truth."

And as she begins to speak, the room seems to close in around us, the rest of the world fading away. It's just me and Madeline, standing in the gym, with all the pain, secrets, and the broken pieces of our past between us. And for the first time, I feel like we might actually be able to put them back together.

"When you took off that day in the park.." she trails off. "Do you remember?"

I swallow thickly and nod. My finger instinctually comes up to rub the scar across my forehead. "I remember everything up to the explosion. And then there's nothing until I wake up in the hospital after my second surgery."

"Surgery?" Her throat bobs.

I gesture to my right leg. "Broken femur." I lift my left wrist. "Broken ulna." I point to my head. "Traumatic brain injury. No surgery, just a few repairs."

She presses a hand to her chest. "Jesus fuck."

I can't help it. I choke out a laugh at her words, so similar to mine. She blushes and shakes her head before running her fingers through her long hair.

"Okay," she murmurs. "It's one thing to know you were injured. A different thing entirely to hear it recounted so…" Her hands flap. "Easily."

"It's not easy, though." I cock my head to the side and lift a brow. "It's not easy at all, Madeline. It's just my reality." And it's only the tip of it.

"I know." She exhales a shaky breath. "Anyway. I was searching all over for you. Then I heard the explosion. I ran for the house, but when I got there, I saw Augustus and his men through the window." Her brows furrow. "They were searching for something. I was terrified when I saw them go upstairs. Worried they were coming for you. So I snuck in through the service entrance, sticking to the restricted hallways."

Her words jar my memory, bringing me back to another of many lessons. Miles taking me through a hidden hallway that, if discovered, would be explained away as a staff access hall. Really, it was created as a last resort for us to use if we needed to escape. I'd completely forgotten about it until just now.

"I followed the sound of their frantic voices. They went straight to your mom's office and tore it apart." She tugs on her hair, looking stricken. "They were searching for something. At first, I thought it was you. But up until that moment, they still believed you were the daughter of a staff member. A nobody. They were more concerned with this object."

"What was it?"

"Augustus kept shouting about the documents , and keys . It wasn't until years later when I'd taken on this position that I discovered what he'd been looking for."

Anxiety pulses through me. I'm not sure I want to hear this.

"The Moreau's are wealthy, Isabella." She gives me a wide-eyed look. "It's not thousands or millions sitting in a bank somewhere. There's enough money to save nations, and it's all in your name."

My mouth falls open before closing again. I suck in a sharp breath that sounds more like a wheeze and double over.

She pats my back and hums. "Yep. I reacted about the same."

"But…what…how…" I start, squeezing my eyes shut when the room spins. "That's what he's after?"

"Yes, and lucky for us, he can't access it. It's overseas in a vault." I flick my gaze to her and she smiles softly. "It's in your family home with your great uncle, Henri, back in Corsica."

I shove upright. "Then why the hell is Augustus still after us? He has to know by now it's not here. I can't just simply give him the key." I pause, my throat constricting. "Can I?"

Madeline shakes her head and pulls me gently toward a bench before sitting down. I follow suit, falling heavily next to her.

"No. He can't. Even if he had access, it's more than a key." She hesitates before brushing sweaty hair from my face. "It's you. You're the only one who can gain entrance to the vault. Well, you and Henri, but…" she trails off, her smile growing. "He's waiting for you, sweetheart. He's very excited to meet you."

"So," I murmur. "There's a person in my family who isn't awful?"

She flinches, her hand falling to her side, and I jolt, realizing my mistake. "I didn't mean you. I was talking about Sacha."

Madeline waves me away. "I know I've done you wrong, Ella. I know I've hurt you. And those hurts are so deep, they'll take time to repair. I just hope you at least give me a chance some day."

We fall into silence for a long moment. When she finally speaks again, her voice is raw.

"His men split up. By this point, the fire was spreading from the Chamber. Staff was running and screaming. The kids—" She glances up at me, her delicate throat bobbing. "Gage, Nyxon, Maddox, and Alec were there. Along with a few other children who belonged to Circle members or staff. A little girl, Penny, was killed when she ran off to find her mother, Tilly, who was a maid.

"It was mayhem. But throughout it all, I never stopped looking for it. When I finally made it to your bedroom, Gus was already there. I saw it…the moment he realized you were Charlotte's, not mine."

Her eyes slide across my face, taking in my features. Slowly, she reaches up and trails her finger across my freckles. A shiver works its way down my spine.

"You look exactly like your mom, Skye," she whispers, and for the first time, the name doesn't make me uncomfortable.

It feels familiar. It's filled with love, recognition. I can almost picture Miles and Charlotte here, loving me, looking at me like I'm their daughter, not their niece. It feels like home.

Maybe that's why I grab Madeline's hand and squeeze it. I don't let go, even when it falls to the bench between us.

Madeline is all I have left of my past life, now. My childhood.

Well, her and Stone, but I'm too raw, too hurt, to think of that yet.

"I saw the sick gleam in his eyes. Heard the icy cold note in his voice when he barked his orders." She bats away at a tear, her eyes never leaving our joined hands. "He told his men to find you, no matter the cost. When one of them asked what he intended to do with you, he said you were useless until you turned twenty-three, but then you and your money would be his. What happened to you before then was not his concern, as long as you remained alive."

And that right there is the order that sentenced me to years of heinous abuse.

"I snuck out and ran. I looked everywhere for you. It was dark and there were so many emergency workers all over the grounds. Our staff did what they were trained to do—they hid. It wasn't until well after three in the morning when I finally ran into Jonah. He told me where you were and I went straight to the hospital. I'd been out of my mind. Heartbroken over you, your parents, and Carmen."

"Gage and Madd's mom?"

She nods. "Carmen and I were close. She was such a sweetheart." Madeline clicks her tongue and looks away. "I knew that sick man would be the end of her someday."

"You know how she died?" My throat bobs. "How they all died?"

"There were cameras in the Chamber." She flicks away more tears. "Once the survivors had reunited and recovered, we were able to pull the footage from the central hub it transmitted to. We saw the whole thing."

Madeline smiles, but this time, there's a dark note to it. A vicious one.

"Your parents may have been over the top but they were prepared for everything. She knew someone would come for her eventually. At first, she figured it would be one of your grandfather's many enemies. Perhaps the people who took out her brothers. It's why they kept you hidden at first. There were too many attempts on her life. With the kind of wealth your family line possesses, it's only a matter of time before the greedy descend. She just had no idea the closest threat stood beside her."

And they'll descend on me too, eventually. If I decide to take my mother's place, my place , people will come for me.

Augustus is only the beginning.

"And he was relentless. That night, his men caught me in the parking lot. I was blindfolded, beaten, and kidnapped. They took me to an abandoned warehouse down south."

"Why there?" I rasp.

"Are you familiar with the Broadway Boys?"

I nod. "Gage and Maddox told me all about them. Their leader was Carmen's brother."

"Yes, and at the time, he was the only connection to any sort of power Augustus had beyond the Circle. It wasn't until years later he created Los Diablos. But the Broadway Boys had a reputation. They were hateful, disgusting men. They trafficked women, sold drugs, and were just getting in deep with the Diaz Cartel. Gus likely saw this, which is why he married Carmen."

I think back to what the guys told me all those months ago. Recalling how they'd said something similar. They may not have been given the correct story about what happened the night of the explosion—in fact, they refer to it as a massacre—but even they know that their mom wasn't with Gus out of love. She stayed for her sons, but was married for her connections.

Point blank, there's no other reason.

It's heartbreaking.

"I don't think he realized that by killing so many people, starting a fire, and burning down the home of the wealthiest families in San Francisco, that he'd incite so much attention. There were first responders, cops, and news crews everywhere." She brushes invisible lint from her black spandex pants. "Le Milieu went underground, and so did Augustus Luna. He took his boys, and he ran like a scared little animal. He went to the only contacts he had left, and waited. I spent six months at the Broadway compound."

Her hands shake, her voice trembles, and I do something I never thought I'd do. I pull Madeline in for a hug. She goes still, but quickly sinks into my embrace. We hug for a long moment, and she quietly cries into my shoulder. And try as I might, I'm unable to hold back my own tears.

When she pulls away, her face is red and splotchy. The put together, perfected woman from the meeting room is gone, and in its place is a shell of her demons, just like me.

"I was tortured," she continues, her voice breaking.

I hold my hand up, swallowing hard. "Madeline, you don't have to—"

"I do," she says firmly. "You need to understand why I didn't come for you, but more than that, you need to see how great the threat we're facing is. Why we were underground for so long. I genuinely thought I was saving you, giving you a chance at a real, normal life. At love. If I'd known you weren't safe on the outside, I'd have come for you earlier. You need to understand."

But I don't understand.

As much as I want to, I don't see how a person can sit safely underground, literally, and let their loved one walk the earth without a worry or care, while a sick man like Augustus Luna shares the same air. The same city. He knew who I was, knew where I was. He could have come for me at any point.

It doesn't make any sense.

But I choke all that back, and nod, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Go on," I murmur.

"Augustus was relentless in trying to find you." She exhales heavily. "He wanted access to the money. Apparently, your grandfather had promised it would be his along with Charlotte when they married. When Augustus made the decision to kill your parents and her followers, staging a coup, I don't think he understood the money wasn't an accessible thing. He thought I could give him the access.

"So, he tortured me. Had his men rape and beat me. It went on and on, and then one day, it just stopped. He let me out, and I never saw or heard from him again." She glances up at me from damp lashes. "The only reason I can think of is that he thought I would lead them straight to you. Instead, I did what I'd been taught to do. I healed, I hid, and then, I made a call."

Her cheeks turn pink. "It was Robert who came to me. He'd been working for Le Milieu in France with Henri. Your great uncle sent him and a group of soldiers here to help pick up the pieces. We worked to find as many members as we could. Those who wanted to remain in the family helped us rebuild. It took a long time, but we never stopped working." She grabs my hand. "And we never stopped watching you. You were always safe, always loved."

I can see it in her eyes that she truly believes that. And after hearing all that she went through, I don't have the heart to tell her the truth. That Augustus knew where I was the entire time. That he was the one who sent Eric in after me, to corrupt my brain, but keep my body whole. He was breaking me, making me into the perfect, docile woman who would accept him, be subservient to him when the time came.

I wasn't safe. I wasn't loved. I wasn't cherished.

I was broken, tortured, and raped, just like her.

And I know the weight that pain causes. Know the scars it leaves. So for now, I do nothing, say nothing. I let her believe she did her best, because for all I know, she did. She just doesn't understand it wasn't enough.

"He won't stop, Maddie," I murmur, her nickname slipping through. "Augustus will not stop terrorizing our family. We need to end him."

Her face pales and she shakes her head. "We can't, sweetheart. It's not that easy. He's too big, too powerful." Her jaw tightens. "Too evil."

I drop her hand and shove to my feet, taking a step back. My sore fingers clench at my sides.

"He is," I growl. "And he has my men. Four people who have been terrorized by him more than anyone I know. He's done hateful, horrific things to them, and they were only children at the time. What will he do to them now? Now that he's broken and unhinged? Now that he nearly had me and lost me? How bad will it get this time?"

I press a hand to my racing heart and take another step back.

"I will not leave them with him, Madeline. I can't. I will do whatever it fucking takes to save my guys. The men I love." I suck in a sharp breath, already upset over the vitriol I can't choke back. "Unlike you, I can't just sit back and watch the people I love be broken again, and again, hoping for a safe time to step in. I will not let them be ruined by that sick fucker. Help me or not, I don't give a shit. But I'm going to get them back. With or without Le Milieu by my side."

With that, I spin and storm toward the door.

I need to find Oliver.

I need to find Hunter.

I need the find the way out of this underground fucking prison.

And then, I'm getting my men back, even if I die in the process.