~*~Rules of Engagement: Now I’m Gonna Be What You Wanted Me to Be. Stupid mistake.~*~
The camera flickered to life, catching Bella Madison seated on the edge of a battered steel chair in the dim light of the arena’s backstage. She wasn’t dressed for battle, just in her own clothes, hair tied back, hands fidgeting with the tape she hadn’t bothered to wrap around her wrists yet. There was a weight in her posture, the kind of heaviness that doesn’t come from bruises or fatigue, but from absence. From waiting.
Bella lifted her head slowly, her eyes sharp, her voice quiet but cutting.
“It’s been far too long.”
She leaned forward, elbows digging into her knees, staring dead into the camera.
“Far too long since I’ve walked through that curtain and into that ring where I belong. Far too long since I’ve been able to remind anyone, remind myself, what I’m capable of. And for a while? I didn’t even know where to begin. Do I talk about the matches I should have had but didn’t? Do I talk about the time wasted, sitting on the sidelines while the world kept spinning? Or do I just...start here. Start now.”
She sat back in the chair, exhaling sharply through her nose, before shaking her head.
“The truth is, wrestling has never been fair to me. I’ve had to claw for every opportunity, bleed for every inch I’ve gained. And when you get forced out of the fight long enough, people forget. They move on. They find the next shiny new thing to cheer for or tear down, and Bella Madison? She fades into the background. Out of sight, out of mind.”
Her jaw tightened, eyes narrowing.
“But I don’t fade, I don’t break, I won't quit and the one thing everyone’s about to relearn really damn fast is that you don’t keep me buried. You can try, you can sideline me, you can overlook me, but eventually, I come back swinging. Harder. Meaner. And hungrier than ever before.”
She paused. A faint smirk curled at her lips, not of amusement, but of someone who had finally sharpened her edge.
“So tonight, I stop thinking about where I’ve been. I stop worrying about what I’ve missed. And I start proving all over again why I call myself the Hardcore Queen of SCW. Because you can throw me in the deepest pit, you can stack the odds as high as you want, and I’ll still crawl out, bloodied, bruised, and smiling. That’s who I am. That’s who I’ve always been.”
Her voice dropped low, steady.
“It’s been far too long. But I’m back and if you thought you’d seen the worst of me before? You haven’t seen anything yet.”
Bella leaned forward again, locking eyes with the lens, her final words carrying the promise of a storm.
“Let’s begin.”
She let the silence hang for a beat before speaking, her tone low and sharp.
“High Stakes.”
The words cut through like glass, her eyes never leaving the camera.
“I’ve been waiting for something like this for a long time, a chance to fight my way to the very top. To prove that all the hell I’ve put myself through, all the scars I’ve earned, weren’t for nothing. The road starts with Seleana Zdunich this week on Climax Control.”
Bella unfolded her arms, pacing slowly, her voice gathering heat with each step.
“Seleana, I’m not going to stand here and deny what you are. We all know that you’re resilient. You’ve been through storms inside and outside that ring, and every single time, you’ve found a way to get back up. That’s admirable, it’s gutsy. That’s the kind of fight that makes people respect you.”
She stopped pacing, her smirk flickering like a shadow.
“But respect? Respect isn’t enough to carry you past me.”
Bella jabbed a finger toward the camera, her voice cracking with intensity.
“We have all heard all about your personal drama, your baggage, the weight of the world you’ve been carrying around lately. And you know what? I don’t give a good goddamn. I’m not here to babysit your feelings. I’m not here to shoulder your struggles. I’m here to beat you. Because when that bell rings, none of that matters. Not the chaos outside the ring, not the pity party, not the excuses. All that matters is who walks out of that first round with their arm raised and that’s going to be me.”
Her breathing picked up as her voice deepened, carrying a steady growl of conviction.
“I am quite literally the Hardcore Queen of SCW for a reason. I’ve bled for this company, I’ve sacrificed my body time and time again, and I’m still standing here when plenty of others would’ve broken down and quit. Seleana, you can throw every ounce of your resiliency at me, but it won’t be enough. Because I’ve got something you don’t.”
Bella leaned closer, her eyes burning with fire.
“I’ve got nothing left to lose and everything to prove.”
She straightened up, brushing hair back from her face, her tone turning cold and final.
“This tournament? It’s not about survival. It’s about dominance. It’s about walking through every obstacle standing in my way until I get to Frankie Holliday and I take what should’ve been mine a long time ago. And if that means I have to tear you apart to start this journey, Seleana? Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
Bella tilted her head, her smirk returning like the twist of a knife.
“So bring me the ever resilient, battle-tested survivor version of yourself. Bring me every last ounce you’ve got left in the tank. Because I’m not just going to beat you, Seleana. I’m going to remind everyone exactly why Bella Madison refuses to stay in the shadows. This is my climb, my tournament, my destiny and you?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You’re just the first casualty.”
“I’ve been sitting back for months now, watching people run their mouths. Watching certain....oh, let’s call them former champions....take their little shots, whisper about how Bella Madison isn’t cut out for this. That I’m not ‘enough of a bitch’ to pull something like this off.”
Her smirk widened, sharp and mocking.
“You’re right. I’m not a bitch. I’m the Hardcore Queen of SCW. There’s a difference. See, any loudmouth can be a bitch....it’s easy. All it takes is an attitude problem and a sharp tongue. But me? I apparently cannot state enough that I’ve bled for this. I’ve broken myself in half for this company. I’ve walked into matches designed to shorten careers and walked out smiling, because that’s what I do. So if the question is whether or not I’m nasty enough, cold enough, vicious enough to claw my way through this tournament?”
Bella snapped her fingers, the sound echoing sharp in the silence.
“Seleana, I guess you’re about to be the first person to find out.”
She leaned back in her chair, casual again, though the dangerous glint in her eyes betrayed the calm.
“Now don’t get me wrong, I know exactly who I’m dealing with. You are all these things I have already said and that’s cute. Really. But let’s not kid ourselves here. You’ve got a whole storm of personal drama dragging behind you in your personal life, and whether you like it or not, that slows you down. And I’m not the type to show up and pat you on the back for still trying....not anymore. I’m not here to cheer for you, Seleana. I’m now gonna be the one here to put you down, to step over you, and move one step closer to the World Bombshell Championship.”
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing into the camera.
“You’ve made a career out of surviving, Sel. But High Stakes? That’s not survival. It’s about being ruthless. It’s about being willing to destroy whoever’s across from you, no matter how much you respect them or how good their sob story sounds. And I don’t give a damn if that makes me a bitch in the eyes of all those people waiting for me to fail.”
Bella’s smirk returned, sharp as a knife.
“Because the truth is, I’m not here to be liked. I’m here to win. And if I have to get ugly, if I have to dig deep and show the side of myself that certain people think I don’t have? Oh, honey, believe me. I’ll show it. And you’re not gonna like what you see.”
She stood now, pacing a slow, deliberate circle, her voice rising with each step.
“Seleana Zdunich, we all know that you’re tough. You’ve been through and survived a lot. But when that bell rings, it is gonna mean absolutely fuck all and it isn’t going to save you. I’ve got nothing left to lose, everything to prove, and I’ll burn this entire tournament to the ground to get what I want. Frankie Holliday’s sitting pretty at the top of this mountain, but before I get to her? I get to be the one to unfortunately break you.”
Bella stopped dead in front of the camera, fire blazing in her eyes.
“And I will. Not because I’m enough of a bitch. But because I’m the Hardcore Queen of SCW and that means I’ll do whatever the hell it takes to get to the top.”
Her smirk curled into something darker, a promise.
“High Stakes starts with you, Sel. And come hell or high water...it ends with me standing in front of Frankie Holliday. Count on it.”
The screen faded to black on Bella’s wicked grin.
~*~True To You~*~
Bella sat at the kitchen table, staring at the bracket on her laptop screen. High Stakes. First round against Seleana. Endgame: a shot at Frankie Holliday’s World Championship. Her fingers drummed against the wood, restless, like she was already itching to fight.
“You’ve been different lately,” Malachi’s voice broke through, calm but edged. He leaned against the doorway, arms folded. “I thought, hell, I hoped, after the summer tour, you were thinking about stepping back. Maybe even...” He trailed off, and she didn’t need him to finish the thought. Another baby.
Bella let out a sharp laugh, bitter at the edges. “You really think now is the time for that? When our daughter is in full-blown terrible twos mode? When she’s climbing bookshelves like she’s prepping for a ladder match? I can barely keep up with her and keep my head above water with everything else. You wanna add midnight feedings back into the mix?”
Mal frowned. “I just thought...you wanted it too. You’ve said it before.”
“Of course I’ve said it before!” Bella shot back, her eyes flashing. “I do want it. But wanting it and being ready for it are two different things, Mal. Right now? I’m stretched thin enough. Máire needs me, I need me to remain sane and on top of all of it, I have a chance at something huge. Something I’ve really need, to grasp that I have an amazing chance to prove myself instead of getting random shots and then getting my ass kicked. I always hear people keep saying I’m not ruthless enough, how that I’m not a big enough of a bitch to grab that elusive top spot. That ends now. I am, come hell or high water, walking into High Stakes, and it starts with me walking through Seleana Zdunich without a second thought.”
Her voice cracked, not with weakness but with fury. “Don’t you get it? If I give this up now, if I step aside because life got complicated, that’s it. I’ll always be the girl who almost broke through. Almost. I can’t live with that and I won’t let Máire grow up watching me settle for almost.”
Malachi moved closer, softer now, but still trying. “And what about what it costs you, Bella? What does it costs us?”
She looked up at him then, eyes tired but burning with that stubborn fire he knew too well. “It’ll cost me everything if I don’t do this.”
Malachi stayed quiet for a beat, jaw tight, eyes fixed on her like he was weighing every word before he let it out. Finally, he exhaled through his nose and dragged a hand over his beard. “You don’t have to convince me of how much this means to you, mo gra. I’ve watched you fight through things that would’ve broken anyone else. Hell, you’ve put your body on the line more times than I can count and came back asking for more. You’ve got nothing left to prove to me.”
“That’s the problem,” Bella shot back, pushing away from the table, her chair scraping hard against the floor. “I’ve got everything to prove to everyone else. To Frankie. To Kayla. To Seleana. To the people in that locker room who look at me like I’m just riding on my mother’s name or my father’s legacy or that I’m too soft because I chose to be a wife and a mom. I need them to see me for what I am, Mal. I need them to see me.”
Her voice broke sharp on the words, defiant but almost desperate.
Mal moved toward her, but not to pull her close, not yet. His hands braced on the table, steady and grounding. “And at what cost? That’s all I’m asking you to think about. You’ve already been through ladder matches, brawls, things that left you bruised for days. I’ve been there to pick you up off the bathroom floor, Bella, when you could barely stand. You think I forgot that? I don’t.”
She looked away, swallowing hard. He wasn’t wrong. He was never wrong about that part.
“I’m not asking you to quit. I would never ask you to do that,” he went on, softer but unyielding. “But you’ve got to promise me something. That you won’t lose yourself chasing this. That you won’t tear yourself apart proving a point to people who’ll move on to the next rumor, the next name, the next story, without blinking.”
Finally, he stepped closer, his hand brushing her arm before resting gently at her elbow. Not holding her, not restraining her, just there. “You’re already enough, Bella. You don’t have to kill yourself to prove it.”
Bella’s throat tightened. For a second, she wanted to scream at him, shove him, and insist that he didn’t understand. But he did. That was the worst part, he understood better than anyone. And still, the fire inside her wouldn’t let her bend.
“Maybe I don’t,” she said quietly, her jaw set. “But I will anyway.”
The silence that followed was thick, a truce that wasn’t really a truce. Malachi didn’t press further, but the worry in his eyes lingered even as he gave her space. And Bella, for all her stubbornness, carried his words with her like an echo she couldn’t quite shake. The tension in the kitchen was sharp enough to cut until it broke with the sound of little feet slapping against the floor.
“Momma! Dada!”
Máire came running in, curls bouncing, arms full of stuffed animals that promptly tumbled as soon as she spotted her parents. She abandoned them without a second thought, throwing both arms up as if the world owed her a lift.
“Up!”
Bella’s frustration cracked into something softer. She bent down, scooping her daughter into her arms, breathing in the mix of baby shampoo and mischief that clung to her. Máire buried her face against Bella’s shoulder like she belonged nowhere else.
“You’re supposed to be in bed, missy,” Bella whispered.
“No bed!” the toddler declared, shaking her head hard enough to send curls flying.
Mal smirked, leaning against the counter. “That stubborn streak? That’s all you, love.”
Before Bella could retort, the familiar scrabble of claws echoed down the hall. A blur of fur tore into the kitchen. Luka. Their husky girl, wild-eyed and still carrying the same boundless energy she’d had since they first brought her home years ago. She skidded across the tile, paws scrambling for traction before she let out a sharp, excited howl.
“LUKA!” Máire squealed, wriggling in Bella’s arms, reaching for the dog.
The husky jumped up, front paws thumping against Bella’s thigh, tongue lolling, tail wagging with the force of a metronome.
“Down, Luka!” Bella snapped, though the corner of her mouth twitched with affection.
“Puppy!” Máire kicked her legs, desperate to get down.
Bella sighed and lowered her, keeping a watchful eye as Luka instantly bounded forward. But instead of knocking her over, the dog stopped dead still, lowering her head so Máire’s little arms could loop around her neck. Luka had been wild when they first brought her home, too much energy for most people, but with Máire, it was different. She stood patient, careful, protective, like she understood that this tiny human belonged to her too.
Máire giggled, hugging Luka like a big, furry stuffed animal. “Good puppy!”
Mal crouched down, rubbing Luka’s ears as her tail thumped against the floor. “There we go you chaos demon. I knew she’d settle down once she had someone to look after.”
Bella snorted, brushing curls back from her daughter’s face. “Settle down? Mal, this dog still tries to herd Alanah’s kids when they play in the yard.”
“Instinct,” Mal said with a grin. “Besides, Luka’s been with us longer than Máire has. She’s just making sure the kid grows up tough enough to keep up.”
Bella shook her head, but she couldn’t help smiling. Luka had been theirs before the sleepless nights, before the hospital trips, before Máire had turned their lives inside out. She’d howled at 3 a.m. when Bella was rocking a newborn, and had curled up at Bella’s side through nights of colic and exhaustion. Luka had been there through it all.
Now, watching her daughter wrap tiny arms around the husky’s neck, Bella’s chest swelled. Luka wasn’t just a dog. She was part of the chaos, part of the family, part of the reason Bella could still find a shred of sanity when everything else felt like it was pulling her in a thousand directions.
“You see this, Máire?” Bella murmured, kissing her daughter’s temple. “You’ve got your own guardian already.”
“Luka,” Máire said proudly, hugging the husky tighter.
Luka huffed as if in agreement, settling herself on the floor while still letting the toddler cling. Mal and Bella shared a look over the scene, the kind that carried all the words they didn’t say out loud.
The fight between them wasn’t over. It probably wouldn’t ever be over. But in moments like this, in the noise of laughter and barks, in the warmth of family wrapped in fur and curls, they remembered why they fought in the first place.
