The Mirror of Betrayal

The Mirror of Betrayal
“Hey… Aria?”

The voice was familiar, yet it sounded like it was coming from a stranger. It was low, devoid of the warmth and bubbly energy that usually defined Emily. It was a voice stripped of hope.

Aria stood frozen in the center of her living room, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Behind her, hidden deep within the closet, were the files that had just shattered her entire world. The truth about Marcus, the truth about her father, the truth about the game she was losing. And now, standing in front of her, was the one person she thought she could trust, looking like a ghost of the girl she used to love.

Aria took a deep breath, forcing the air into her lungs. She had to lock it away. She had to take the rage she felt toward Marcus, the devastation of learning she was a pawn, and bury it deep inside a box in her mind. If Emily sensed even a crack in her armor, she might see the truth. And Aria wasn't ready to share the truth. Not with the woman who had watched her walk into a trap for months without saying a word.

She turned slowly to face Emily.

This wasn't Emily who wore bright colors and laughed too loud at the diner. This wasn't Emily who had nervously smoked cigarettes in the bathroom at the gala. This woman was dressed in black leather that creaked softly as she moved. Her hair was pulled back so tight that it pulled at the skin of her temples. Her face was pale, her eyes rimmed with dark circles, but the eyes themselves were like chips of ice.

“Emily,” Aria said. Her voice was calm, terrifyingly so. The voice of a woman who didn't bleed.

Emily didn't step further into the room. She stood near the door, her boots planted firmly on the expensive rug. She looked around the apartment, taking in the luxury, the view of the city, the sheer wealth that surrounded Aria. Her lip curled slightly, not in a smile, but in a sneer of disgust.

“You look comfortable,” Emily said. Her eyes snapped back to Aria. “You look like you belong here already.”

Aria didn't flinch. She walked over to the kitchen island, putting distance between them. She needed a barrier. She needed something solid to hold onto because her hands were starting to shake, not from fear, but from a violent, rising fury.

“I live here, Emily, you should know that already” Aria replied, picking up a glass of water she didn't want. She took a sip, just to wet her dry throat. “Why are you here? You didn't call. You didn't use the code.”

“I didn't think I needed a code to see my best friend,” Emily said. The word 'friend' sounded like a curse. She took a step forward. “I have been waiting for you to call me, Aria. I have been waiting for two weeks.”

Aria set the glass down. The sharp clink echoed in the silence.

“I have been busy,” Aria said coldly. “The project. The merger. Ethan. You know how it is.”

“Busy,” Emily repeated flatly. “Too busy to check on the friend you left behind at the party? Too busy to ask if I made it home safe?”

Aria looked at her. She saw the pain hiding behind the anger in Emily’s eyes. She saw the trauma. And for a second, she felt a stab of guilt. But then she remembered the files. She remembered that Emily knew. Emily knew about the plan to seduce Norman. Emily knew about the danger and she had stayed silent.

The guilt evaporated, replaced by a cold, hard resolve.

“Why didn't you make it to the main hall at the gala?” Aria asked. It was a deflection. A challenge. She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “I told you to change. I gave you the dress. I told you to blend in. I waited for you, Emily. I looked for you in the crowd while I was dealing with the big fish. Where were you?”

Emily’s jaw tightened. A flash of something dark passed over her face. Shame? Rage?

“You know where I was,” Emily whispered.

“I don't know anything,” Aria lied smoothly. “I assumed you got bored. Or maybe scared. You always hated crowds.”

“I didn't get bored,” Emily stepped closer, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “I was detained. I was... occupied.”

Aria raised an eyebrow. She looked Emily up and down, her gaze critical, detached. She looked at her like a boss inspecting an employee who had failed a simple task.

“Occupied?” Aria let out a short, dry laugh. “Did you? Why didn't you look for me? We had a plan. Just like back in the hood when we were working with Vanessa as waitresses. We always had each other’s backs. If you were in trouble, you should have signaled.”

“I couldn't signal!” Emily’s voice rose, cracking with emotion. “I was trapped! You sent me down that hallway, Aria! You told me it was safe!”

“And it was safe,” Aria said, shrugging one shoulder. “If you followed instructions.”

She pushed off the counter and walked toward the window, looking out at the city lights. She couldn't look at Emily’s face anymore. It was too much.

“Maybe that sexy dress got someone's attention,” Aria said to the glass reflection. She made her voice sound bored, dismissive. “You looked good in gold, Emily. Maybe too good. Maybe you found a rich man who wanted to take you home and you decided to have a little fun. That was the reason you never bothered to call, isn't it? You were enjoying yourself.”

The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush bones.

That made Emily chuckle darkly a little. It was a sound devoid of humor. It was the sound of something breaking.

“Oh, I get it,” Emily said. “That is the story you are telling yourself? That I had fun? That I ran off with a Prince Charming?”

Aria turned around. She walked back toward Emily, stopping just a few feet away. She needed to push her. She needed to know how deep the betrayal went. She needed to hurt Emily so that Emily would hurt her back, so they could finally stop pretending.

“Well, didn't you?” Aria asked softly. Her eyes bored into Emily’s. “Tell me, Emily. Who was he? Was he rich? Was he powerful?”

Emily was breathing hard now. Her chest heaved up and down. Her eyes were wet, but she refused to let the tears fall.

Aria continued with her eyes watching Emily saying, “How was his hands on your body? Was it soft or hard on your skin?”

She saw Emily flinch. She saw the memory flash behind Emily’s eyes. The red room. The bed. Norman Malcovich. Aria knew exactly whose hands they were. She knew exactly how rough they were. But she asked the question anyway, twisting the knife.

“Did he touch you like you wanted?” Aria whispered tauntingly. “Did he make you feel special? “
That even got Emily more angry. The dam broke. The control Emily had been holding onto since she walked through the door shattered.

She let out a scream, a raw sound of pure agony and rage. She rushed towards Aria.

She moved fast, faster than Aria expected. She wasn't the clumsy girl from the diner anymore, she was acting like the girl that works for the bad guys in the hood. She was now acting undercover. She moved like a soldier.

Emily closed the distance in a heartbeat. She pulled her arm back and swung.

She gave her a heavy punch on her cheek.

CRACK.

The impact was solid. It knocked Aria’s head to the side. Pain exploded in her jaw, hot and sharp. Aria stumbled back, tasting copper in her mouth. She caught herself on the back of the sofa, her hand flying to her face.

She touched her lip. It was bleeding.

Aria laughed so hard while blood trickled down her mouth.

It was a manic laugh. A release of all the tension, all the secrets, all the lies. She looked at the blood on her fingers and laughed harder. It was real. Finally, something was real.

“Is that all you got?” Aria taunted, spitting blood onto the expensive carpet.

Emily stood there, her chest heaving, her hand throbbing from the punch. She looked wild.

“How dare you!” Emily shouted at her. “How dare you stand there and mock me! You know! You know what happened! You pushed me to Norman just to save your ass!”

The truth hung in the air between them. Naked. Ugly.

Aria wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She straightened up, her eyes turning cold again. She didn't deny it. She didn't apologize.

Aria looked at her with a confirmation reading on her face.

“I did what I had to do,” Aria said calmly. “I survived. That is the job, isn't it?”

“You sacrificed me!” Emily screamed. “I am your friend! I loved you! And you fed me to that monster so you could play house with his son!”

“I didn't sacrifice you,” Aria snapped back, her voice rising for the first time. “I made a tactical decision. And don't play the victim with me, Emily. Not today.”

Aria took a step forward, invading Emily’s space. She looked furious.

“ And listen Emily, I never assume I have fact…. You know the plan B from the beginning and you choose not to tell me?”

Emily froze. Her eyes widened slightly.

“What?” Emily whispered.

“Don't lie to me!” Aria shouted then. “ I saw the communications! Marcus didn't just come up with the idea to seduce Norman last week. It was in the plan from day one! Plan B. If the son fails to deliver the evidence, use the father. You knew! You were his eyes and ears! You knew I was walking into a trap where I would have to sleep with that old man, and you didn't say a word!”

Aria poked Emily hard in the chest.

“Emily, you're my friend! You were supposed to protect me! But you were ready to let me do it! You were ready to watch me destroy myself for Marcus!”

Emily slapped Aria’s hand away.

“It wasn't like that!” Emily yelled. “I was trying to protect you! I thought you could handle it!”

“You thought wrong!” Aria screamed. “So when the order came, I made a choice. Since you were so okay with the plan, I thought you should be the one to execute it!”

She pounced on Emily.

It wasn't a slap fight. It was a brawl. Aria tackled Emily, driving her shoulder into Emily’s stomach. They crashed onto the floor, knocking over a vase of white lilies. The water soaked into the rug. The glass shattered.

They rolled on the floor, grappling. Hands grasping at clothes, at hair. It was ugly. It was two women who had shared a bed, shared secrets, shared a life, now trying to tear each other apart.

Emily was strong, but Aria was fueled by a new kind of hatred. She pinned Emily’s arms down, but Emily bucked her hips, throwing Aria off. They scrambled to their knees.

Emily lunged, grabbing Aria by the hair. Aria grabbed Emily’s throat.

“I hate you!” Emily screamed, tears finally streaming down her face. “I hate you for what you did to me!”

“And I hate you for lying to me!” Aria shouted back, shoving Emily away.

They stood up, breathing hard, circling each other like wolves.

“Why?” Aria demanded, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Why did you hide it? You were just working undercover for me, Emily. You are just a waitress from the diner. Why does Marcus own you this much?”

Emily stopped circling. She looked broken. Her tough exterior cracked.

“Because he promised me!” Emily cried out. “He promised me he would get it back!”

“Get what back?” Aria asked.

“My father’s property!” Emily shouted. “My father wasn't just a drunk, Aria! He had something tangible! He had land! The Malcovich expansion took it! They bulldozed it! They killed him with stress and debt! Marcus found me. He told me if I helped him destroy Norman, I would get it back. I would get the land. I would restore my name!”

That even made Aria more angry.

It was the same lie. The exact same lie. Marcus had found two broken daughters, two victims of the Malcovich greed, and he had wound them up like toy soldiers and set them against each other.

“He lied to you!” Aria screamed.

“No!” Emily shook her head violently. “You don't know him! He helped me when I had nothing!”

“He used you!” Aria yelled.

The word hung in the air. Whore.

Emily let out a feral growl. She charged again.

This time, Aria was ready. She sidestepped Emily’s wild swing. She grabbed Emily’s arm, twisting it behind her back. She used her momentum to slam Emily face-first onto the carpet.

She sat on Emily’s back, holding her down. Emily thrashed, kicking her legs, screaming into the rug. But Aria held firm. She pressed her arm against the back of Emily’s neck, not enough to choke her, but enough to keep her down.

They both were breathing so hard. The room was silent except for their gasps for air.

Aria looked down at her friend. She looked at the black leather jacket, the blonde hair splayed on the floor. She felt a tear slide down her own cheek, mixing with the blood on her lip.

“You are a fool, Emily,” Aria whispered, her voice shaking. “We are both fools. But I am done playing his game. And you... you are done being my friend.”

She couldn't trust her. Not now. Not knowing that Emily was willing to sacrifice Aria for her own revenge. Not knowing that Emily was still loyal to the man who was pulling their strings.

Aria looked up at the ceiling. She spoke to the empty air, to the hidden microphones.

“Nexa,” she commanded, her voice hoarse. “Open the door.”

A mechanical whir sounded. The heavy front door clicked and swung open.

Aria didn't get up. She stayed on top of Emily, keeping her pinned.

“Security!” Aria shouted.

Immediately the door opened, the two bodyguards rushed in. They had been waiting in the hall, alerted by the noise but waiting for the command. They saw the scene—the broken vase, the overturned furniture, the blood on Aria’s face.

They didn't hesitate. They moved toward the women.

Aria climbed off Emily. She stood up, swaying slightly. She pointed at the woman on the floor.

As Aria told them to take Emily out of the Solara Heights.

“Take her out of here!”