Chapter 21: The Mirror Cracks
The night was unkind.
Thunder split the sky apart and rain lashed against the tall windows of the Blackwood mansion. Sienna tossed restlessly in her bed, tangled in the satin sheets that clung to her skin like chains. Sleep wasn’t gentle tonight—it was cruel.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her dream began to spiral into a nightmare.
Sienna was standing alone in the heavy rain at night, barefoot on a jagged cliff edge. The sea roared beneath, black waves rising like monsters waiting to devour her. The storm above mirrored the storm within her heart. She looked down at her hands—slim, pale, trembling—and froze. They were slick with blood. Sticky, warm, crimson.
“No… no, no, no…” Sienna gasped, shaking them violently, as though she could fling the guilt away. But the blood didn’t wash off. It only deepened, dripping to the rocks at her feet.
Her knees buckled as she let out a scream that seemed to echo into the void, bouncing back like an accusation.
Then—headlights.
A sudden blinding flash.
A car.
Its horn blared, cutting through the thunder. Tires screeched against wet gravel. The vehicle charged toward her with merciless speed. Sienna’s body stiffened—she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. And then the impact threw her backward. The world tilted, and she was falling. Falling endlessly into the raging sea.
She hit the water. Cold, choking, suffocating—
Sienna shot up in bed, gasping. Her heart pounded like a drum, her throat dry as if she had actually screamed. Her trembling hand went instinctively to her face—no blood. Only sweat. Her breathing came in shallow, uneven bursts.
Just a dream.
But it had felt too real.
She pressed her palm against her racing heart, whispering into the darkness, “What are you trying to tell me?”
While Sienna sat trembling in her room, somewhere down the hall Eve was busy writing her own kind of story.
She had slipped quietly into the study, her silk nightgown brushing across the polished wood floor. The storm outside was relentless, but she found it comforting—the chaos outside matched the fire in her veins.
She opened one of the lower drawers, where she knew Sienna’s old journals were kept. Eve’s lips curled in satisfaction when her fingers brushed against the leather-bound cover of a book, its pages yellowed with time.
She sat by the fireplace, flipping it open.
The words inside were raw, written in Sienna’s elegant but hurried handwriting. They weren’t just memories; they were confessions.
Father’s hands were stained with the weight of deals no one would dare to touch. But every ruthless choice he made, he made for me. I am his empire. I am his reason.
Eve’s chest tightened. A shadow of her past flickered in her eyes. She traced the ink with her finger and murmured softly, almost reverently,
“I knew you were the reason.”
A memory gripped her suddenly, dragging her back.
The smell of rust and whiskey.
Flashback — Years Ago
The apartment smelled of stale smoke and desperation. Eve’s father sat hunched on the edge of the bed, his hands trembling around a half-empty glass. His eyes, red-rimmed and hollow, bore into hers.
“They… they took everything, Eve.” His voice cracked, raw and desperate. “Because of him—because of Blackwood.”
Eve, barely sixteen, stood frozen by the doorway, her schoolbag slipping from her shoulder. “Papa…”
His laugh was broken, choked with bitterness. “He destroyed me so his daughter could live like a queen. You don’t understand, Eve. Everything I built… gone. And they all bow to her. To Sienna Blackwood.”
The rage in his voice turned to sobs, shaking his frame. For the first time, Eve saw him—her strong, proud father—collapse. He clutched his chest, his face wet with tears.
“Promise me, Eve,” he rasped, gripping her wrist so tightly it hurt. “Promise me you’ll never forgive them. Promise me…”
“I—I promise,” she stammered, her throat tight, tears streaming down her cheeks.
He gave her a broken smile, brushing her hair back tenderly as if she were still his little girl. Then, without another word, he staggered to his room and closed the door.
Eve’s heart pounded. She wiped her tears roughly and dropped her schoolbag, her instincts screaming that something was wrong. She rushed after him, her hands trembling as she twisted the doorknob.
The sight froze her blood.
Her father dangled from the ceiling fan, the rope cutting deep into his neck. His feet twitched faintly, then stilled. The chair lay overturned beneath him.
“NO!” Eve’s scream ripped through the apartment. She clawed at the rope, her fingers bleeding as she tried to untie it, her sobs choking her. But it was too late. His lifeless eyes stared past her.
She crumpled to the floor, clutching his legs, rocking back and forth. “Papa, don’t leave me. Please. Please…”
Hours passed, though she didn’t notice. Her tears dried into hollow silence. Eventually, she dragged herself to the mirror, her face pale, her eyes wild. The promise burned in her ears.
Never forgive them. Never.
That night, she whispered to her father’s ghost, “I’ll make them pay. I’ll make her pay.”
Present
All her father’s suffering.
All his despair.
Every single drop of it led back to the same family. To her.
Sienna Blackwood.
Her lips twisted into a smile that carried no warmth.
Slowly, deliberately, Eve tore the journal in half. The sound of ripping paper filled the silent study, echoing like the splitting of a soul.
She fed the pieces to the fire. One page at a time, until the flames devoured every word, every confession. Sparks rose and died in the air like souls extinguished too soon.
Eve leaned closer, whispering into the crackling fire, “Your father built his empire for you, Sienna. Mine destroyed himself for it. Now tell me—who deserves to win?”
The fire roared, as if it agreed with her.
She stood, brushing ashes from her palms, her eyes glinting with cold determination.
The storm outside raged on. But inside Eve, a storm far darker had only just begun.
As the last page of the journal curled into ash, Eve murmured with venom,
“It’s time for you to pay, Sienna. You’ll soon know what it feels like to lose everything.”