The Woman Behind the Mask
That evening, Isabella stood before her mirror, carefully fastening a diamond earring. Her reflection smiled back at her — poised, perfect, deadly.
Behind her, Marcus entered the room quietly. "You've made quite the mess," he muttered.
She didn't turn. "A necessary one."
"You took Eleanor."
"She was going to talk," Isabella replied coldly. "You think I'd let her ruin everything I built?"
Marcus poured himself a drink, his voice laced with warning. "You're forgetting something, dear — if Ethan finds out, he won't stop until he burns you alive."
Isabella finally turned, her eyes glinting. "Let him try. He won't touch me as long as Clara's still in his heart."
There was silence.
Then she smiled faintly, adjusting her bracelet. "Besides, by the time he does find Eleanor… it'll already be too late."
Far away, in the abandoned warehouse, Eleanor lifted her head weakly as the door creaked open. A familiar silhouette entered — someone she never expected.
"Y-you," she whispered, fear and disbelief mixing in her eyes.
The figure stepped closer, the light revealing a face that had once smiled kindly at Clara.
Eleanor's breath caught. "You… betrayed us…"
And then everything went dark.