Broken reflections of past

The night pressed deep into the sky of Manhattan as Lucian stood in the silence of his office, the city lights burning faint streaks across the windows.

The sound of Isla’s voice from earlier in the day refused to leave him alone. He could still hear her voice filled with hate and disdain. Yet even with every word she hurled at him like a blade, he remembered how that voice had once promised him love and warmth. He remembered how it had been soft when she spoke of dreams and a future with him, so soft when she spoke to him, like a dream.

That was six years ago.

Six years ago, when tragedy shattered that future and broke both of their worlds apart.

He sank down into the leather chair and pressed his long fingers to the bridge of his nose, unable to banish the thought.

What had really happened that night?

He didn't want to know those versions. Those versions which Claire gave him.

Not those versions he tried to swallow down for the sake of calming his own heart

Now he wanted to know the truth.

The actual truth.

He had a feeling that there must be a truth hiding inside Claire’s words or else why would Isla come back after all these years?

“Sir?”

A quiet voice came from the doorway.

It was Ezra, the only person left at the office at this late. “You wanted the files from the old hospital case?”

“Leave them on my desk,” Lucian responded hoarsely, not looking up.

He waited until the sound of Ezra’s footsteps retreated, until the silence engulfed him again, before reaching for the slim brown envelope. The weight felt disproportionate to its contents. Slowly, he drew out the pages. They were a mess of typed lines and handwritten scrawls, medical terminology and a few names.

Names.

Names that weren’t supposed to matter anymore.

But they mattered more than anything.

One name stopped him cold.

Dr. Elara Jensen. An attending physician listed on Isla’s chart. Yet… he had never met her.

He had never heard of her.

He had never spoken with her when he signed the documents for the treatment, not until tonight had he noticed this discrepancy.

How could he even miss this? He thought bitterly.

And why had Claire insisted he sign those papers? What had she kept from him?

A sting of guilt bubbled up inside him, burning down his throat. What had he missed? What had he failed to protect?

***

Meanwhile, across the city, Isla stood in the quiet expanse of her penthouse, a crystal glass of red wine cradled in her hand. The weight of the day pressed down upon her, sharp and tiring. The merger was announced, the lines had finally been drawn. Yet it felt like battle had yet to come.

She sank into the couch, recalling moments from the morning and the way Lucian had watched her as if she were the most precious thing he lost. There had been guilt in those deep blue eyes. It was not the guilt of a man who had merely lost his wife, but guilt rooted in a betrayal he still didn’t comprehend completely.

Her hand shook as she set down the wine on the table. The words pressed upon her throat like thorns.

The hospital. The tragedy. The way she had felt stripped of dignity while the rest of the world smiled.

She rose, went to the cabinet, and drew out the files she had kept buried for six years. The papers crinkled as she flipped the pages in urgency, searching for threads which were long forgotten. The attending doctor’s signature was faint and smudged. The documents felt too orderly for such a messy night.

Why had she never noticed that before?

Why had she been too broken, too wrapped in her own grief to ask questions back then?

And why had Claire refused to give her access to the records?

***

The next morning, the corporate air was charged like a storm which was due to come.

Isla entered the lobby of Élan Vogue Milan, her heels clicking sharply upon the marble floor, her chin held high with pride.

To the world, she was invincible, like a lioness returning from a long hunt. But within, threads of vulnerability could be seen.

In a quiet conference room, Leo Stone waited silently for Isla. He rose as she entered, brushing a hand down the crisp lines of his expensive suit.

“Isla,” he greeted softly, brushing a kiss upon the air by her cheek. “So what's the plan for today? Where shall we begin your vengeance from?”

She sank into a chair, brushing hair from her shoulder gently. “Vengeance is only worthwhile if it finds its target along with proof.”

Leo smiled faintly, sliding a slim, black envelope across the table. “Then you’ll want to see this. It’s a copy of the medical review files from the night you were admitted to the hospital. This is something which those doctors would never tell you about."

Isla froze, staring down at the envelope, her heart shaking inside. Slowly, she drew out the documents. The paper felt like it was burning her fingers like fire.

It had names she hadn’t seen in years.

Signatures that she didn’t recognize.

It even had times and treatments that didn’t match her memories.

And there were some pages…missing.

“What am I looking at?” she asked sharply, voice shaking.

Leo was quiet for a long moment before responding, his voice soft. “I don’t know the whole truth, Isla. But someone altered these files. I could only find these few documents but Claire is powerful enough to bury the evidence. She's desperate to stop you from finding out the truth.

A sharp breath escaped her.

A flood of memories surged forth.

A hospital room, ice cold and blindingly bright.

A mother-in-law with a voice like a venom, the woman who hated her.

Leo watched her closely, then asked. “What do you want to do?”

Her voice came low, resonant with a quiet, burning fury. “I want every piece of evidence that we can find. Every witness, every record. I want the secrets she buried pulled until the whole world sees her for what she is.”

A faint smile curved Leo’s mouth as he nodded. “Then we’re in this together. We shall win, no matter what it takes.”

***

Back at Blackwell & Co, Lucian stood at the edge of the floor-to-ceiling windows, the files he had received clenched tight in his hand. They felt like a Pandora’s box, too dangerous to open, too poisonous to touch.

He pressed a hand to the glass, hie.breath misting upon it as the sky shimmered with colors.

Memories pressed down upon him like the weight of guilt.

Isla in that hospital bed, the way she laid pale and broken.

The ache of silence between them.

The night that ended everything between them.

And somewhere, deep down, the whisper that refused to quiet itself down.

What if he had been deceived?

What if losing the woman he once loved was the biggest mistake of his life?

What if the past buried secrets which he wasn't aware of?

Through the silence came a sudden sound. His phone buzzed.

It was more like an alert. An email from an unknown sender. The subject line was simple.

“I can tell you what Claire doesn’t want you to know.”

With shaking hands, he clicked the message. A series of files unfurled upon the screen. It had Medical records. Signatures. Documents. The name he hadn’t heard in years….Dr. Elara Jensen.

Who was she?

A witness? An ally? An enemy?

A faint crack appeared upon the ice that had imprisoned Lucian’s heart.

***

Meanwhile, across the city sky, the camera pulled away from Isla’s penthouse as she sank to the floor, files scattered around her, her hands pressed to her knees. The threads of betrayal felt like needles wrapped around her chest. Yet, in that moment, as she pulled herself to standing, brushing the tears from her skin, a grim determination hit her hard

If Claire thought she could bury this secret forever, then she was wrong.

If Lucian thought he could walk out of this war unscathed, he was wrong as well.

If the world thought she would be silenced again, it was wrong.

This time she was going to hunt for justice.

Not only for herself but also for her baby.

“Let the games begin,” she said aloud, her voice slightly shaking but strong.

....