Power,Lies And Us

Chapter3-TheVault

Madeleine’s POV

Sunday mornings at Isabelle’s boarding school were so peaceful.

From the moment I stepped onto campus, the tension from my shoulders loosened a little. Students crossed the courtyard, laughing loudly at nothing in particular. It created a sense of nostalgia because I recognized that lightness. How freeing it felt to be able to laugh loudly and mean it, completely unaware of how simple things were back then.

Before the envelope. Before Theodore Torres.

Before the Hawthornes.

“Madeleine!”

I barely had time to react before long limbs wrapped around me.

“Oh wow.” I laughed softly, nearly losing my balance. “You’re stronger than I remember. Taller too.”

“And you hardly visit,” she accused instantly.

Fair enough.

Isabelle looked more like our father every year. Same green eyes, same warm smile. I, on the other hand, looked too much like our mother. Same light brown eyes, same nose, full lips. We practically looked like twins.

Isabelle had only been six when our father died. Most of her memories came from stories and pictures.

Mine came from living through the aftermath.

“Did you cut your hair?” I asked as we walked across campus, hand in hand.

“Oh my gosh! You noticed?” She gasped dramatically. “I’m so honored.”

“Excuse you. I notice every detail about you ‘cause I’m an amazing sister.”

“Yes, but you forgot my birthday last year.”

“That happened one time.” I stuck one finger out.

“Twice.” She stuck two out.

I narrowed my eyes slightly. “Whose side are you on exactly?”

She grinned cheekily. “Mine.”

“Aww I missed you.” I pulled her in for a hug.

“Then you should visit me often,” she replied, wrapping her arms around me.

“You know how work gets, Izzy,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Pinky promise?” She looked up hopefully, putting out her pinky finger.

“Pinky promise.” I answered, intertwining her pinky with mine.

We spent most of the day talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Classes, friends, boys and her newest obsession with k-pop songs.

For a while, I was truly happy.

Things felt normal.

Well, almost.

Isabelle had always been good at reading me than I realized.

“When are you going to finally tell me what’s on your mind?” She asked eventually, as we slowly swung back and forth on the swings at the playground.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Maddie, you’ve been acting weird all day.”

“Oh please,” I scoffed. “I’m always weird.”

“No, this is different.” She studied me carefully. “I can tell.”

“Work’s been kicking my ass lately.” I glanced away, trying not meeting her eye.

“Nope. That’s not it.”

Leave it alone Isabelle.

Please.

“You know you can tell me anything right?” She asked softly.

Guilt twisted low in my stomach.

“I know.” I said quietly.

Things went quiet between us for a while.

Then, she slowed to a stop and smiled faintly. “Tell me a story about Dad.”

My pulse picked up. “What?”

She shrugged. “You haven’t told me one in a while.”

For a moment, I didn’t say anything.

Then slowly, I smiled too.

“You know how I told you that Dad was a terrible dancer?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, this one time we were at a kid’s birthday party. I think of one of our neighbors that lived down the street back then.”

I smiled faintly as the memory surfaced in my mind.

“There was music playing and all the parents were just standing around talking about normal adult stuff,” I said. “And then, out of nowhere, Dad decides he’s going to start dancing. In the middle of the yard. For absolutely no reason!”

That made Isabelle laugh right away. “That sounds exactly like him.”

“No, listen, it gets worse.” I started laughing a little. “He tried doing some new move he saw on TV and just…completely lost his balance.”

“No way.”

“Yes way,” I grinned. “Mom was so embarrassed. She kept telling him to sit down before he hurt himself, and he just danced worse on purpose because he thought it was funny.”

Isabelle laughed harder, covering her mouth.

“And the crazy part?” I went on, fueled by the sounds of her laughter. “All the kids loved him. By the end of the night there were like twelve of them dancing around him following his dance steps. Ever since that night, all the kids in the neighborhood called him ‘Mr. Wiggles.’”

The laughter faded, and she went quiet for a second.

“I really wish I remembered him better.”

I looked away for a moment, my gaze wandering around the playground. “You remember the important parts.”

“Like what?”

I smiled softly. “How much he loved and cherished us.”

The next morning, my phone buzzed at exactly 8:15am.

Unknown number: I found something.

I already knew who it was before I opened the message.

Me: You could at least say hello first.

Theodore: Hello first.

This man was infuriating.

Me: What did you find?

Theodore: Send me your email.

I stared at the message for a moment.

Me: You know, normal people usually ask first.

Theodore: Madeleine

I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself.

Me: Fine.

Five minutes later, a file landed in my inbox.

Hundreds of pages.

Company records. Financial statements. Newspaper archives. Names highlighted in red.

The Hawthornes were everywhere. Politics, business, police donations, judges. I’d pull on one and find three more underneath it.

It felt less like researching a family and more like uncovering something that had been deliberately buried.

The next few days blurred together. Caffeine, sleepless nights, and documents I'd already read twice . My apartment looked far worse than I felt. Papers scattered everywhere. Piles of clothes on my bedroom floor. Empty coffee cups I kept forgetting to throw away. At some point the mess stopped registering.

I just kept reading.

By Friday evening, I was completely drained.

Adeola took one look at me in the office and frowned immediately.

“Damn”

I looked up tiredly. “That bad huh?”

“You look like you just wrestled a bear.”

“Rude.”

“Hey, I’m just being honest.” She raised her hands up in mock surrender. “But seriously, you need a break before you have a meltdown.”

“I promise, I’m fine.”

“Girl, you don’t look fine.” She crossed her arms. “That’s the fourth coffee you’ve had today.”

I glanced down at the cup in my hand.

Okay, fair point.

Adeola grinned suddenly. “Come out with me tonight.”

“No.”

“Uhh did I ask a question?”

“Adeola”

“There’s a jazz bar downtown. The one I told you about? I’ve been meaning to check it out. It’s called ‘The Vault.’ It has good food. Good music. Strong drinks. Attractive men.” She said that last part with a wink.

The last thing I need right now is men. They’re too much of a distraction. Nope. Can’t cope.

“You really need to relax,” she continued. “And I can help you with that.”

Frankly?

She wasn’t wrong.

Three drinks later, and the bar felt more lively than when we first walked in.

By the fourth, I was actually laughing.

Nothing particularly was funny but I kept laughing anyway. Really laughing.

The music moved through the room like it owned the place, conversations dissolving under dim golden lights into something soft. For the first time in weeks, my brain just…stopped.

“See?” Adeola said, looking extremely pleased with herself. “I saved your life.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“And right.”

I shook my head and hid my smile behind my drink.

That’s when I noticed him.

Across the room. Watching me. Tall, blonde, dark shirt with the sleeves pushed up. Tattoos snaked up his left arm like they belonged there. A face that looked like it could ruin my life without even trying. Our eyes met and he knew I’d caught him. He didn’t look away, didn’t even have the decency to pretend.

Just smiled.

Oh.

“Oh no,” Adeola muttered. “No, no, no.”

“What?”

“I know that look”

“What look? I don’t have a look”

“That’s the look you make when you’re about to make bad decisions”

“I don’t know what you’re..“

The man stood up and started walking over to our table.

Oh. We’re doing this then.

“Ladies.” Smooth. Of course he was.

Up close, he was even more attractive. Which honestly felt unnecessary. His voice was low and rough around the edges. Exactly how I liked it.

“Ashton,” he drawled, stretching out his hand to me first.

“Madeleine” I took it slowly, my hand lingering in his just a minute longer.

“That’s a beautiful name.”

“Oh God,” Adeola muttered into her glass.

I laughed in spite of myself, and something about that, the laugh, maybe, or the fact that I didn’t try to hide it, seemed to settle things.

He took my hand and led me to the VIP section of the bar.

“Ouu, fancy,” I teased, looking around at the section, noticing the clear difference between the regular section and this one. “All this for me?”

“Only the best for you, darling,” he shot back, winking at me in the sexiest way possible.

Oh god, this man was so fine.

Dangerously fine.

I cleared my throat and forced my attention back to the room.

Ashton rested a hand on the small of my back, and led me to a couch nearby.

“So,” I said, slightly folding my arms, “do you do this for every girl you meet, or am I just special?”

His grin widened “Well, that depends”

“On what?”

“Whether they look as beautiful as you”

I rolled my eyes, fighting back a smile.

It had been a while since I smiled and blushed because of a man. It made me feel like a schoolgirl with a crush.

I felt lighter with each conversation I had with Ashton.

Ashton was effortlessly easy to talk to.

Easy to want.

I know I said men were distractions but Ashton was a really good looking distraction and maybe that was exactly what I needed.

Something uncomplicated.

Something temporary.

“You’re so beautiful, Madeleine.” He cupped my face lightly.

His words caught me off guard, but the look he threw my way shocked me to my core.

It had been a while since someone looked at me that way.

“Oh. Thank you.” I murmured, feeling heat rush to my face.

Something about the way he looked at me made everything around me fade into the background.

I was suddenly aware of how close he was. His vanilla scent enveloped me in a way that made me feel warm all over.

He touched me in a way no one had in a long time.

Like I was wanted.

“Wanna get out of here?” Ashton asked quietly.

Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was the drinks.

Maybe I just didn’t want to be alone tonight.

I hesitated only for a second. “Yes.”