The next morning, Arabella stood before the tall windows of Nathaniel's penthouse, her eyes tracing the distant skyline of the city that had become her battleground. A storm brewed in her chest, fierce and unresolved. The truth she had uncovered the night before had proven her innocence, but it didn't erase the doubt Cyrus had injected into Nathaniel's mind—or the bruises left behind.
Nathaniel stepped into the room, freshly dressed in a charcoal suit, but his face held none of the confidence it usually did. Instead, it was quiet—thoughtful. Guarded.
"I reviewed the analysis from our tech team," he said. "You were right. The recording was tampered with. Clara confirmed it."
Arabella turned, her arms folded across her chest. "So you believe me now?"
"I never stopped believing you," he said, voice low. "I just… didn't know how to protect you without the truth."
Her eyes softened, but her heart remained wary. "You let him humiliate me in front of the board."
"I needed to play the long game. Let him think he had the upper hand so he would expose more of himself. If I'd defended you too hard, he'd have buried his trail deeper."
Arabella's voice was sharp with pain. "So you chose strategy over trust?"
"No," he replied, stepping closer. "I chose to end this war. For you. For us."
She didn't move as he reached for her hand. His touch was gentle—tentative.
"I know what this has cost you," Nathaniel said. "You didn't sign up for any of this. You didn't plan to get caught in my world."
Arabella met his gaze. "I didn't plan to fall in love either."
The words slipped from her before she could stop them. The silence that followed was heavy, loaded with vulnerability.
Nathaniel's breath caught. "You—"
"But it doesn't matter," she said quickly, stepping back. "Because love doesn't fix everything. Not when your past keeps dragging you down."
Nathaniel's expression twisted with something raw. "You think I don't know that? I've spent years burying the things I lost. My father. My family's legacy. Trust. And then you walked in, and suddenly, I wanted all of it again. I wanted more."
She shook her head, emotion rising in her throat. "But Cyrus won't stop. And he knows how to hit where it hurts. He came after Elina. Who's next? You? Me?"
"That's why we strike first," Nathaniel said. "I've already set up a sting. Tonight, we draw him out—with the original audio, and the names of his allies. We trap him in front of the board he manipulated. He'll be finished."
Arabella stared at him, torn between fear and hope. "And if it goes wrong?"
"Then I lose everything," Nathaniel said. "But I won't lose you."
She hesitated, then nodded.
**
That evening, the boardroom was packed once more—this time not with uncertainty, but with fire. Arabella stood at Nathaniel's side, her chin high, her hands steady. She had dressed in the same deep emerald green as the night she first faced the board. This time, the color wasn't meant to blend in—it was to dominate.
Cyrus was seated casually at the far end, confident, a smug smile curving his lips. "Another meeting, Nathaniel? Haven't we done this dance?"
Nathaniel spoke clearly, "This is the last dance, Cyrus."
He tapped a remote, and the room darkened slightly. The screens came to life.
"Here is the audio you submitted," Nathaniel said. "And here is the original, from the encrypted device Arabella carried."
He played both recordings back-to-back.
The contrast was undeniable. The board members leaned forward, brows furrowed, jaws clenched. And then the tech expert entered, laying out the digital forensics report line by line. Every splice. Every manipulation.
Cyrus's smile vanished.
"This is absurd," he barked. "It's her word against mine—"
"No," Nathaniel said, standing. "It's your lies against a company built on truth."
Two security agents stepped forward. "Mr. Cyrus Vaughn, you're under investigation for corporate espionage, falsification of evidence, and attempted assault."
As they moved to restrain him, Cyrus's rage erupted. "You think this is over?! You think getting rid of me fixes everything? You don't know the people I've had to deal with to climb this ladder—what I've had to give up!"
Arabella looked him dead in the eyes. "And now you've lost everything."
Cyrus struggled against the guards but was dragged out, shouting threats that echoed down the hall.
The boardroom sat in stunned silence until Mr. Grayson, the oldest member, finally stood.
"Miss Arabella," he said, "on behalf of the board, I offer our deepest apologies for the treatment you endured."
Arabella dipped her head. "Thank you."
When the room finally emptied, Nathaniel turned to her, his eyes searching hers.
"You were right," he said. "Love doesn't fix everything."
Arabella's lips parted slightly.
"But maybe it gives us the strength to face what we thought we couldn't."
He reached for her again, but this time she didn't pull away.
Their hands found each other, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world melted.
Until Elina burst through the door.
"You both need to come with me. Now."
Arabella stiffened. "What happened?"
Elina's face was pale. "It's about your mother, Arabella. She's not who you think she is."
Everything froze.
The past, once again, had struck back.
And this time, it threatened everything.
Arabella's blood ran cold.
"What do you mean?" she demanded, her voice a whisper as her fingers tightened around Nathaniel's hand. "What about my mother?"
Elina looked shaken, breathless from rushing. "There's someone downstairs… a woman. She says she's your real mother, Arabella. She has documents. Photos. She knows things no one else would know."
Arabella felt the floor tilt beneath her.
Nathaniel stepped closer. "Are you sure it's not another trap? Maybe Cyrus's last attempt to get into her head—"
"I already checked," Elina said. "Cyrus is in custody. He doesn't even know she's here. And I did some digging. Her name is Camilla Renard. She disappeared from the public eye over twenty years ago. She's on the list of women who were once involved with Maxwell King."
Nathaniel's jaw tightened. "My father."
Arabella blinked, her heart hammering wildly. "That's not possible. My mother is dead. I buried her."
"I thought so too," Elina whispered. "But Arabella… this woman. She has a locket. The one you always wore as a child."
Arabella staggered back, her breath catching.
The locket. The one she thought had been lost in the fire—the only thing she had left from her childhood before everything was taken from her. She hadn't told anyone about it. Not even Elina.
Nathaniel noticed her trembling. "Do you want me to come with you?"
Arabella swallowed hard. "Yes."
They moved quickly to the lobby, hearts racing, minds spinning with questions. The air outside the elevator was colder than it should have been, as if the building itself had sensed the revelation waiting for them below.
Then Arabella saw her.
A woman, elegant despite her age, with deep auburn hair threaded with silver. Her eyes—those piercing green eyes—mirrored Arabella's. Her lips trembled as she stepped forward, one trembling hand clutching the very locket Arabella remembered holding as a child.
"Arabella," the woman whispered.
Arabella froze. "Who are you?"
"My name is Camilla," she said gently. "I'm your mother."
The world stopped moving.
Nathaniel placed a firm hand on Arabella's back, steadying her.
"No," Arabella whispered, shaking her head. "No. My mother died. My aunt raised me. You—this can't be true."
"I was forced to leave you," Camilla said, tears glistening in her eyes. "Your father—Maxwell—he threatened my life. He said if I ever came near you, he'd destroy both of us. So I ran. And then when he died, I tried to come back. But I was too late. You were already gone."
Arabella's voice cracked. "Why now?"
"Because I've been watching over you from a distance, waiting for a time when it was safe. And when I saw the news—the scandal, the boardroom takeover—I realized they were using you the same way your father once used me."
Nathaniel's brows furrowed. "You knew my father?"
Camilla turned to him slowly. "I loved him once. And then I learned what kind of man he truly was."
Arabella felt her knees weaken. "Why didn't you come sooner?"
"I wanted to. I tried. But I was silenced. Paid off. Threatened. I even faked my death to survive."
Elina stepped closer, her voice laced with disbelief. "This is insane."
Nathaniel's eyes narrowed with quiet calculation. "We'll need to verify everything. DNA test. Background checks."
Camilla nodded solemnly. "Of course. I expected that. I just… needed her to know she wasn't alone."
Arabella didn't respond. She couldn't. The air was too thick with ghosts.
Nathaniel helped her to the nearest bench, gently guiding her down.
Everything she thought she knew was unraveling.
If this woman was her real mother… then who was the woman she had mourned? Why would her entire life be built on a lie? And why now—when she was just starting to find herself—was her identity being shattered again?
**
Later that night, Arabella stood in her room, staring at the locket Camilla had left behind.
She had taken the DNA swab, though her hands had trembled the whole time. She had given no promises, no warm embrace. Only silence. And questions.
The locket clicked open in her hand. Inside was a faded photograph.
A younger version of the woman from today, holding a baby wrapped in a white blanket—her eyes beaming, tears visible in the corner of her smile.
Arabella touched the image with the tip of her finger.
Nathaniel stood by the doorway, watching her.
"I didn't know," he said softly. "I had no idea my father… did this."
She didn't turn. "I don't even know who I am anymore."
"You're Arabella," he said firmly. "You're the woman who faced down Cyrus Vaughn, who survived betrayal, who rebuilt herself from ashes. No truth about the past can change that."
She finally looked at him. "What if everything I believe is a lie?"
"Then we build something new," he replied. "Together."
Her throat ached. "That sounds too easy."
"It won't be. But I'd rather fight for something real with you than pretend to live in comfort without you."
Arabella stepped into his arms without speaking, letting his warmth soak into her.
Maybe her life had been built on lies. Maybe her heart had been broken too many times.
But tonight, in Nathaniel's arms, with the locket in her hand and a storm in her soul—she realized she still had a choice.
To give in to the pain.
Or to risk everything for love.
And as she closed her eyes, the answer—fragile and trembling—was already forming inside her.