The envelope trembled in Arabella's hand.
She stood alone in her suite, the world outside her windows muted and grey, as if the sky itself was holding its breath. The results of the DNA test had arrived hours ago, hand-delivered by a private courier, sealed and official.
She hadn't opened it right away. Part of her had wanted to burn it, to pretend none of this had ever happened. But the woman's eyes—Camilla's eyes—still haunted her, a mirror of her own. There were questions Arabella had run from her entire life, but now they stood in front of her, demanding to be answered.
With a breath sharp as glass, she slid her finger under the flap and opened the envelope.
Positive Match.
Camilla Renard was her biological mother.
Arabella's knees nearly buckled as the weight of it crashed down. Every painful memory, every forgotten lullaby, every whispered lie. The truth was here, undeniable. Her real mother had been alive all along. Watching from the shadows. Silenced by a man who had manipulated them both.
Maxwell King.
The man who had orchestrated more pain in her life than she'd ever realized.
A knock sounded on her door, soft but insistent.
"Arabella?" Nathaniel's voice was quiet. "Can I come in?"
She didn't speak, but the door opened anyway. He stepped inside, eyes scanning her face and the document in her hand.
"I take it you read it."
She nodded, numb.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I had Lucas do some digging after she came forward. Camilla was telling the truth. There are hospital records, photos, travel documents. She disappeared just after giving birth and changed her name. My father… he covered the whole thing up."
Arabella swallowed. "So it's all real."
Nathaniel nodded grimly. "He paid her off, threatened her, and when she still tried to come back to you, he made sure she vanished."
She laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. "I spent years mourning a woman who wasn't even my mother… while my real one was out there, hiding from the same man who destroyed everything I loved."
Nathaniel moved closer, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "I know this is overwhelming. But you have the truth now."
"Do I?" she snapped, pulling away. "Because every time I think I know who I am, something else shatters. My identity. My past. My family. You said we'd build something new… but what if everything I touch turns to ruin?"
He stepped in front of her, his voice firm but gentle. "Arabella, you are not defined by what Maxwell King did. You are not his mistake. You're a woman who fought back, who survived. You're stronger than all of them."
She met his eyes, wounded and angry. "What if I hate your father? What if I can never forgive him?"
"You don't have to," he said quietly. "I haven't forgiven him either."
That silenced her.
He took a breath. "There's something else you need to know. Camilla didn't come just to reconnect. She came with documents—legal ones. Before your birth, she and Maxwell signed a confidential agreement. She never revoked her rights. Technically… she still owns shares in King Enterprises."
Arabella blinked. "What?"
"Twenty percent," Nathaniel said. "She was young, brilliant, and one of the first women on his executive team. He covered it up and claimed full control. But those shares were never transferred properly. She has legal claim."
Arabella stared at him in disbelief. "So now she wants to take over the company?"
"She says she doesn't. She says she wants to give them to you."
Her heart thudded. "Why would she do that?"
"Because she believes you're the only one who can change what King Enterprises stands for. She said… it's time the legacy belonged to someone who actually deserved it."
Arabella sat down slowly, the weight of the revelation crashing over her like a tidal wave. All her life, she'd been running from the King name, hiding in shadows, trying to survive its destruction. Now it was being offered to her.
Not as a pawn.
But as an heir.
A woman who could rewrite the story.
She looked up at Nathaniel, eyes brimming with something that hovered between fear and purpose. "What if I'm not ready?"
He crouched in front of her, his voice steady. "Then I'll help you get ready."
She let out a shaky breath, her heart twisting with emotion. "And what if I fail?"
"Then we fail together."
The words wrapped around her like a shield.
She closed her eyes, pressing the document to her chest. So many things were broken. Her past. Her identity. Her sense of belonging.
But maybe… just maybe… this truth wasn't a weapon.
Maybe it was a key.
Later that evening, Arabella stood by the window of the penthouse, watching the city lights flicker like stars scattered across a dark ocean. Behind her, the document detailing her mother's ownership sat open on the desk, beside a framed photo of Nathaniel and his father—one that now felt like a cruel joke.
She hadn't seen Camilla since the results came in.
Hadn't called. Hadn't texted. Couldn't bring herself to.
What did you even say to the woman who gave you life, then vanished?
The door opened behind her. Arabella didn't turn. She didn't need to. The quiet presence, the warmth—it was Nathaniel.
"She's at the hotel," he said softly. "She asked if you'd come."
"I don't know if I can."
"You don't have to go for her," he replied. "Go for yourself. Close the door, or open it. But either way, don't leave it half-shut. That's how pain leaks in."
She turned her head slightly, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "You sound like a therapist."
"No. Just a man in love with a woman who deserves peace."
Those words hit her harder than she expected.
Love.
Even now, even after all the chaos, he still said it with such certainty.
She nodded once and reached for her coat.
---
The hotel room Camilla stayed in wasn't extravagant—modest, warm, filled with fresh lilies and books. A far cry from the cold glass palaces Arabella had grown used to.
Camilla rose from a reading chair when Arabella entered. Her hair was swept back, silver at the temples, but her eyes held the same fire—soft, guarded, and sorrowful.
Arabella didn't speak at first. Neither did Camilla.
They just stood there.
Two strangers bound by blood and decades of silence.
"I got the results," Arabella finally said.
Camilla nodded slowly. "I never had any doubt."
Arabella crossed her arms, defensive. "Then why wait all these years? Why now?"
Camilla's lips trembled slightly. "Because he made me afraid. He told me that if I came near you again, I'd destroy your life. I believed him. I was twenty-four, broke, grieving… and he had power beyond anything I could fight."
Arabella said nothing.
Camilla took a breath. "But I watched. I kept track. Every photo. Every article. Every business launch. I saw you become this fierce, brilliant woman. You looked so much like your father… but your fire, your resilience—that's mine."
Arabella blinked back tears. "You watched me suffer and never came?"
"I wanted to. I tried. Twice. Once when you were fifteen. Again when you disappeared after your marriage to Nathaniel. But he had people watching you. I was warned away both times. And after that… I was too ashamed."
"I needed a mother," Arabella whispered. "I needed someone to fight for me."
"I know," Camilla said, voice breaking. "And I failed you."
Silence filled the room again, but this time it was softer, like a moment of reverence.
Arabella finally sat down. "So… what now? You just hand me shares in King Enterprises like it's a family heirloom?"
Camilla smiled gently. "No. I give you the choice. To accept it or burn it. That legacy can be poison. Or it can be power. It depends on what you make of it."
Arabella stared at her. "Why do you think I deserve it?"
"Because you were born of fire, Arabella. And now it's your turn to rise."
The words sank deep. Something inside her—a knot of pain, confusion, and longing—began to loosen.
"I don't know how to forgive you," Arabella admitted.
Camilla nodded. "Then don't. Just talk to me. Let me try."
---
That night, Arabella returned to Nathaniel's penthouse with a silence that wasn't heavy, but healing.
He met her at the door, anxious. "How did it go?"
She walked into his arms and let him hold her. "It was… hard. But real. And I think that's a start."
He kissed her forehead. "You did something incredibly brave."
"I'm tired of running," she said, looking up at him. "From my past. From pain. From you."
Nathaniel's brows lifted. "From me?"
"I've kept you at a distance because I thought if I let you all the way in, you'd see everything I hated about myself. The scars. The trauma. The broken girl still trying to prove she's worthy of love."
"I already see all of that," he murmured, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. "And I still choose you. Every time."
Her throat tightened. "I think I want to accept the shares."
He blinked. "Are you sure?"
She nodded. "Not because I want to be like Maxwell. But because I want to undo what he built. I want to reshape the company into something real—something human."
Nathaniel gave a proud smile. "Then let's do it together."
For the first time in weeks, Arabella smiled—truly smiled.
Not out of politeness.
Not out of survival.
But out of hope.
And in that moment, as the city continued to buzz around them, she realized that the truth hadn't broken her.
It had freed her.