When Love Turns Cold

The phone rang as Arabella stood in front of the mirror, brushing a soft layer of nude gloss over her lips.

She didn't recognize the number.

But she knew who it was.

She let it ring.

And ring.

Then, finally, she answered.

"Sebastian."

A pause.

"Arabella."

His voice had that same low, measured tone, cold enough to cut glass, but laced with something else this time.

Possession.

"Enjoying your time with Lucien Wolfe?"

She smiled slightly. "Why? Are you jealous?"

Another pause.

"I'm warning you," he said. "He's dangerous."

Arabella laughed, short and sharp. "And you're… what? Safe?"

"I know Wolfe. He doesn't just date women, Arabella. He uses them."

Her voice lowered. "So do you."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

Silence pulsed between them like a loaded gun.

Then she added, "Next time you decide to make public statements on my behalf, ask permission."

"You're still my..."

"Don't." Her voice cracked like a whip. "Don't call me yours."

He exhaled slowly. "You don't know what you're doing."

"No, Sebastian. You don't."

She ended the call.

Didn't let him get the last word this time.

Wolfe Enterprises – Lucien's Private Boardroom

Arabella stood at the head of a long table, staring down at a sleek black folder Lucien had just placed in front of her.

He leaned back, arms folded, watching her.

"This is everything," he said. "Financials. Scandals. Hidden accounts. Internal emails. All the dirt Juliette has buried under Crane's empire."

Arabella's fingers hovered over the folder.

"What do you want me to do with it?"

Lucien's lips curved into a dangerous smile.

"I want you to help me bring them down."

She blinked. "You want to destroy them both."

"I want to expose them," he corrected. "But it's your call. You can leak this to the press. Or you can sit on it. Or… you can use it to leverage your way back into the boardroom."

Arabella stared at him.

"You want me to go back into Sebastian's company?"

He shrugged. "Why not? They think you're a pawn. Let them. Get inside. Smile pretty. Shake hands. Then pull the plug when they least expect it."

Her heart pounded.

"I'm not that ruthless," she whispered.

Lucien stood and walked over.

He lowered his voice.

"You've been a good wife. The forgiving woman. The silent victim. Where did that get you?"

Arabella didn't speak.

"You said you wanted everything he thinks you can't take. That starts with this."

He placed a single key card in her palm.

"What's this?"

"Access to a hidden safe in Sebastian's office. Behind the third shelf. I had someone plant it months ago. I thought I'd use it myself. But now… I think it should be you."

Arabella stared at the key.

"Break in?" she asked quietly.

"No," Lucien said, brushing past her. "Take back what was stolen."

That Night – Crane Tower

Arabella's heels clicked down the private hallway to Sebastian's executive suite.

She wore a simple black dress and a beige trench coat, nothing flashy, nothing to draw attention. Her face was bare. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail.

A receptionist tried to stop her at the elevator.

"I have an appointment," Arabella said smoothly.

"Name?"

She smiled. "Mrs. Crane."

The woman faltered. "Oh...yes, sorry...of course."

Arabella entered the elevator, palms sweating.

As she rose to the top floor, her mind raced.

She could still walk away.

Still tear up the folder and disappear.

But not anymore.

When she reached the office, the door was unlocked, just as Lucien promised.

Inside, everything was just how she remembered it.

The mahogany desk.

The crystal decanter.

The cold air.

She walked straight to the bookshelf.

Third shelf.

She reached behind it and found the panel.

Inserted the key card.

Click.

The panel slid open.

Inside: a small, steel case with biometric access.

Lucien had given her the code.

She keyed it in.

Open.

Inside: photos. Emails. Wire transfers. Copies of contracts signed in Juliette's name that didn't match her real signature.

And something else.

A pregnancy test.

Still sealed.

Still unused.

Arabella picked it up.

Her blood ran cold.

She never even faked the test. She faked the idea of a test.

Rage rose in her chest like fire.

This wasn't heartbreak anymore.

It was war.

Then, behind her.....

A door creaked open.

She turned sharply.

Sebastian stood there.

In a tux.

Staring at her.

Not surprised.

Not angry.

But something worse.

He looked hurt.

"Of course it would be you," he said softly.

Arabella froze.

The pregnancy test, still in her hand.