And more than anything, she couldn’t wait for Nadine to be gone from their lives entirely, erased like an inconvenient chapter. Then, she told herself, everything would finally fall into place.
The doors opened.
The ballroom of the Madeline Estate glimmered beneath crystal chandeliers, every surface polished to perfection for the matriarch’s birthday. Old money, old power, old bloodlines—everything Madeline stood for was on full display.
Madeline approached them slowly, her sharp eyes never leaving his face. Age had silvered her hair, but nothing dulled her instincts. She studied him the way she always had—like a chessboard she’d memorized decades ago.
“So,” Madeline said at last, her cane tapping lightly against the marble floor. “You’re really back.”
Maxon inclined his head respectfully. “Yes, Grandma.”
“And your memories?” she pressed. “You told me on the phone you remembered nothing.”
He exhaled, as if the subject still weighed on him. “The accident damaged most of them. I woke up confused. Disoriented. If it weren’t for Victoria…” He glanced at the woman beside him. “I wouldn’t have survived. She saved me. Took care of me.”