The Woman in the Mirror

Arabella stood in front of the mirror, but she didn't see herself.

Not really.

Not the woman who once danced barefoot in the rain outside her Paris apartment. Not the girl who believed in love letters and long drives and quiet mornings.

What stared back at her now was someone… older. Harder. Colder.

But underneath it all, behind her eyes, the fear was still there.

Miranda.

The name haunted her like a slow drip in a silent room.

Miranda Vale didn't make random moves. She didn't warn. She didn't forgive.

If she'd leaked Juliette's file… then it was just the beginning.

Arabella opened a drawer and pulled out a velvet box. She hadn't touched it in years.

Inside was a USB drive, cracked but not destroyed.

It contained the last copy of the Monarch Tape... the single piece of evidence that could destroy everyone.

Lucien had tried to find it.

Sebastian had begged her to burn it.

But Arabella had kept it.

And tonight… she would watch it again.

Later That Night – Lucien's Penthouse

Lucien was pacing when she arrived. Shirtless, frustrated, bourbon in hand.

"I told you not to go to Miranda," he said without turning.

Arabella dropped her purse on the marble table. "I didn't."

He turned.

She looked worn. Determined.

"She came to me. Without ever stepping into the room."

She placed the USB drive in his hand.

"What's this?"

"The thing Juliette was trying to find when she sabotaged my wedding."

Lucien stiffened. "That tape?"

Arabella nodded. "Play it."

Video Playback: 10 Years Ago – Private Room, Hôtel de Granvelle, Monaco

The screen flickered.

A younger Sebastian Crane sat in a velvet armchair, laughing, champagne in hand.

Next to him: Juliette Langston, wearing a silver mask and little else.

And in the corner?

Miranda Vale.

She wasn't speaking. Just watching.

Until a man entered the room, older, in a sharp suit, with an American accent.

"Your father's debts are cleared," the man said. "But you owe us now."

Sebastian nodded slowly, as if understanding something much darker.

Then the video glitched.

Cut to:

Arabella. Sixteen. Sitting in the same room. Pale. Crying. Clutching her knees.

Juliette whispered something into her ear.

Something that made Arabella flinch.

And that was it.

The video stopped.

Lucien didn't speak for a long time.

Arabella's voice was a whisper. "They filmed it. Used it to control me. To make sure I'd never talk."

Lucien turned slowly.

"What did she say to you?"

Arabella closed her eyes.

"She said, 'You're already broken. They just haven't told you yet.'"

Meanwhile – Crane Tower

Sebastian was spiraling.

Juliette refused to talk to him.

His board was threatening a vote of no confidence.

Every news outlet was digging through his past.

And all he could think about was Arabella.

He remembered the way she looked when he found her in the elevator two nights ago, bruised, shaking, but not defeated.

She hadn't said anything.

But her silence said everything.

He picked up his phone.

Dialed her number.

Rang once.

Twice.

Then stopped.

He hung up.

Coward.

He stood.

Grabbed his coat.

He was going to her.

He had to explain.

He had to...

"Sir, the board is waiting downstairs."

His assistant's voice shattered the moment.

Sebastian clenched his jaw.

Not now. Not yet.

Arabella's Apartment

Arabella sat alone, knees drawn to her chest.

Lucien had gone quiet after the video.

He left with no goodbye.

And Miranda still hadn't reached out.

Arabella felt the silence like a scream.

Suddenly, a knock at the door.

She froze.

Lucien?

Miranda?

Worse?

She opened it… and stopped breathing.

Sebastian.

He looked tired. Unshaven. Haunted.

"I need to talk to you," he said softly.

She didn't move.

He stepped closer. "Please, Bell…"

"You don't get to call me that."

His voice broke. "I never wanted any of this."

"But you let it happen," she whispered.

They stared at each other, years of unspoken pain stretching between them like a chasm.

"I loved you," he said.

She blinked back tears.

"So why didn't you save me?"

He reached out.

She flinched.

He dropped his hand.

And just as she was about to say something — anything—her phone buzzed.

Unknown Number.

A text.

"If you want to keep the rest of your secrets, meet me at 11. Alone."

She turned pale.

Sebastian saw it. "What's wrong?"

She lied... like she'd always been taught.

"Nothing."

And instead of throwing him out like she should have…

She said:

"You can stay tonight. On the couch."

And just like that…

The cycle began again.