~*~The Negotiations Have Failed~*~
O'Connell Home
New York
Late Evening
By the time Bella reached page twenty-three, she knew she was losing. Not the story but the war that she was currently having with her 2.5 year old daughter. Máire sat beside her in bed wearing dinosaur pajamas and the expression of someone who had absolutely no intention of participating in bedtime regardless of what the adults in the room wanted.
Bella held the book open in one hand, doing her best to commit to the voices. "And then the brave little rabbit looked at the moon and said..."
"Mama?"
Bella closed her eyes, the rabbit wasn't even done with the sentence. "Yes, baby?"
"Can rabbits drive cars?"
The question hung in the air as Bella stared at the page, then at her daughter and then back at the page. "No."
"Why?"
"Because rabbits don't have driver's licenses."
Máire accepted that answer immediately....For roughly six seconds, "Can sheep drive cars?"
Bella looked toward the ceiling. "Sweetheart..."
"What about cows?"
"No."
"What about chickens?"
"No."
"Papa?"
Bella pinched the bridge of her nose. "Your father absolutely should not be allowed to drive a chicken."
Máire dissolved into giggles, which would have been adorable if Bella wasn't currently watching bedtime drift farther and farther away. Somewhere downstairs a clock chimed. It was already 9:30 and Bella had started this process nearly an hour ago.
She tried again, "The rabbit looked at the moon and said..."
"Mama?"
"WHAT?" The answer came out faster and a whole lot shorter than intended, which caused Máire to blink at her with big blue eyes and Bella immediately softened, "Sorry."
The little girl climbed into her lap, her tiny hands reached up and touched Bella's face, "Mama tired?"
Bella laughed despite herself, "Very."
"You need a nap."
"That would've been wonderful three hours ago."
The toddler nodded solemnly as if she'd just solved an important problem...before she had a burst of energy, immediately launched herself upright, standing up on her mattress and immediately started jumping.
"Oh no." Bella watched the energy return in real time, it was like the child had somehow discovered a second battery, "Máire..."
BOUNCE.
"Máire."
BOUNCE.
"Máire Nicola O'Connell."
The full government name...that got her attention and the bouncing stopped immediately. The tiny blonde menace looked directly at her mother, "Mama?"
"Lay down."
"Why?"
Bella stared, because of course....because of course they would be raising a child that questioned absolutely fucking everything like her parents do, "Because it is bedtime."
"I'm not sleepy."
"Yes you are."
"No."
"Sweetheart, you've yawned twenty times."
"No."
"You literally fell asleep sitting upright at dinner because you refused to take an afternoon nap!"
"No."
Bella looked toward the bedroom door, like maybe divine intervention might finally arrive. Instead the door opened and Mal stepped inside carrying a cup of coffee he definitely didn't need. One look at the scene told him everything; the abandoned storybook, the bouncing child and the increasingly frazzled wife.
The fact that Bella's hair was starting to escape the ponytail because she'd run her hands through it so many times.
Mal immediately started laughing and Bella pointed at him, "Don't."
That only made it worse, "How long has this been going on?"
"Three years."
"I meant tonight."
"Also three years."
Mal leaned against the doorframe trying and failing to stop smiling.
"Mama's losing," Máire announced proudly.
Bella gasped, “The betrayal."
"You're losing pretty badly."
"I am sitting right here."
"I know."
"You are supposed to support me."
"I do support you." He pointed at their daughter, "Unfortunately, she's winning."
Máire threw both hands in the air, "WINNING!"
Bella dropped backward onto the bed dramatically, "I'm being outsmarted by a toddler."
"You were outsmarted by a toddler yesterday when she found the hidden fruit snacks in the pantry and climb up four shelves to get to them."
"That doesn't count."
"It absolutely counts."
Bella buried her face in a pillow, then pointed toward her husband without looking, "Tag in."
Mal grinned, "What?"
"Tag. In."
"Bella..."
"Malachi."
The use of the full name made him laugh again.
"You are her father."
"Last I checked."
"You made her."
"I do recall that it was a team effort."
Bella finally sat up and shoved the storybook into his chest, "Your turn."
Mal accepted the book, then leaned down and kissed the top of Bella's head, "Go downstairs."
"What?"
"Go." His voice softened, "I got her."
Bella hesitated but not because she didn't trust him but because she desperately wanted to stay and help. Then she looked at Máire, who had somehow started upside-down crawling across the bed and immediately changed her mind.
"You know what?" she stood, "She's all yours."
"I know."
"I love both of you."
"We know."
Bella pointed at their daughter, "Less right now."
"DADA!"
"See?"
Mal laughed, "Go drink your tea."
Bella blinked at him, "What tea?"
"The tea I made you twenty minutes ago because I knew this would happen."
That stopped her and she smiled a small, real smile, "You know me way too well."
"Well I did marry you."
She would close the door to the sounds of her daughter being tackled on the bed by her daddy, and he could get caught in the book trap for a while.
She descended the stairs and into their massive living room that had a nice fire going and right next to the couch as Mal promised was a cup of tea, with a book that she had been slowly working her way through and one of the softest blankets in the house.
Once she got over there, she just turned on her heels and plopped into the corner, reaching up and wrapping herself tightly. She knew getting through these terrible two’s was gonna be trying but this was a whole new level.
After a few deep breaths, she took a sip of her lukewarm tea and grabbed her book. She did start reading, or at least attempted too but her mind started to wander, as did her eyes. After a moment, she landed on one particular one.
The photograph had always made it look cleaner than it really was.
Whenever Bella looked at it now, she saw the smiling faces first. Nick Madison standing proudly on one side of her, Laura Phoenix standing on the other and Eighteen-year-old Bella in the middle holding a certificate and looking like she had everything figured out.
What the photograph never captured was how angry she'd been that day, not outwardly, not the kind of anger that made her yell or throw things.
The quieter kind.
The kind that sat in your chest and stayed there.
~~The First Time She Finished It~~
Phoenix Wrestling Academy
Graduation Day
Years Earlier
Looking back, Bella couldn't remember what her entrance music had been that afternoon.
She couldn't remember what she had eaten beforehand, couldn't remember who wrestled before her, and she certainly couldn't remember what color the ring gear had been that day.
What she remembered was the conversation, more specifically, she remembered the look on his face when he said it, "I'm gonna hurt her."
Not because he thought he was better, not because he wanted to win but because somewhere along the way he had convinced himself that Bella Madison didn't belong in the position she was in, and hurting her would somehow prove it.
The older Bella got, the more she realized people like that weren't uncommon. There were always going to be people who needed an explanation for someone else's success. There were always going to be people who found it easier to blame a last name than acknowledge years of work.
At eighteen, though? At eighteen it had pissed her off.
The ring introductions had come and gone in a blur. Bella remembered standing across from him while the referee explained the rules, and she remembered thinking how strange it was that somebody could spend years training beside another person and still know absolutely nothing about them.
Because if he had known her, truly known her, he would've understood something important. The daughter of Laura Phoenix and Nick Madison was the person standing across from him, but at the end of the day, she was more than that. She was more than the sum of the upbringing she had. On this day, she was just Bella Madison, a student of the academy that earned this moment.
The bell rang.
The crowd of mostly students and family applauded politely as both competitors stepped forward for the opening lockup. Families filled the bleachers, students lined the walls and the trainers stood near ringside watching the final graduating class prepare to have their showcase matches.
For most people in attendance, this was supposed to be a celebration.
For him, it was apparently a grudge and Bella felt it immediately.
The first lockup ended with him driving her backward into the ropes harder than necessary. The referee separated them and offered a warning, but the guy simply nodded and backed away wearing a grin that practically announced he wasn't sorry.
Bella rolled her shoulders once and stepped back toward the center of the ring.
The second exchange wasn't much better as he dug a forearm into her jaw while they jockeyed for position, using just enough force to make it hurt and just little enough to stay within the gray area of what a referee might allow.
The crowd reacted and he just smiled, Bella said nothing.
She tied up again and the third time he buried an elbow into her ribs. The fourth time he shoved her after a break. The fifth time he stepped on her hand while pretending it had been an accident.
Each act by itself was small but taken together? The message was obvious, he wasn't interested in wrestling. He was interested in making sure everyone knew he wasn't.
The crowd slowly started turning on him as the match continued and Bella could hear it. There was a scattering of boos and frustrated murmurs. The growing realization that one competitor was trying to have a wrestling match while the other was trying to settle some imaginary score.
At one point he caught her with a forearm that snapped her head sideways hard enough to stagger her backward a step.
Bella tasted blood immediately.
The inside of her cheek had split against her teeth. She wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist and saw the faint smear of red. When she looked up, he was smiling a sick look right back at her.
Not smiling because he was winning, smiling because he thought he'd finally accomplished something. The trainers started barking that they were there to wrestle and not hurt each other, but she could hear Nick stop them.
That was the moment Bella started feeling sorry for him, not much but just enough because she finally understood that this wasn't confidence. It was insecurity wearing confidence like a cheap Halloween costume.
The referee moved between them briefly while Bella regained her footing and across the ring, her opponent paced like he was preparing for war.
Bella's eyes drifted past him, toward the crowd and toward her parents. Nick Madison stood near ringside with his arms folded across his chest. His expression hadn't changed all afternoon. He wasn't angry, he wasn't worried, he wasn't shouting instructions but he was watching. Watching the same way he always watched, expecting her to figure it out.
Bella's gaze shifted again, to Laura Phoenix was standing a few feet away. Unlike Nick, Laura looked mildly annoyed, not at Bella but at the idiot currently trying to prove a point. The second Laura noticed Bella looking over, she simply shrugged. The gesture was small, almost dismissive but Bella knew exactly what it meant, ‘Fuckin’ make him pay.’
Bella almost laughed, before she looked back across the ring. This asshole was still talking shit, still posturing and still trying to convince himself he was accomplishing something.
For the first time all match, Bella stopped being angry.
The frustration disappeared. The irritation disappeared. Even the embarrassment disappeared.
All that remained was clarity, because she suddenly realized something.
He wasn't wrestling her. He was wrestling a version of her that existed entirely inside his own head and that meant she had already won.
The next exchange happened quickly, not because Bella sped up but because he got impatient. Every time he'd thrown something cheap, Bella had stayed composed. Every time he'd tried to provoke her, she'd refused to bite.
The fact that she wasn't reacting was driving him crazy. When he charged forward again, he did so with all the subtlety of a freight train blaring it’s horn at a high rate of speed.
Bella immediately saw the opening.
Years later she would spend countless hours thinking about moments like this, the opportunities she missed, the chances she hesitated on and the times she second-guessed herself.
This wasn't one of those times.
At eighteen years old, Bella trusted her instincts completely and she didn't stop to analyze and didn't stop to question. She also didn't stop to wonder if it was the right moment.
She simply acted.
His weight shifted too far forward, his footing narrowed and his balance disappeared. Bella slipped underneath him, secured the arm, and turned her hips in one smooth motion. The takedown happened so cleanly that for a brief moment the entire building seemed surprised by it.
One second they were standing, the next, Bella was sitting on the mat with his arm trapped firmly against her chest. The realization hit him before the pain did and Bella saw it happen in real time.
The exact moment his eyes widened, the exact moment he understood where he was. The exact moment he realized he had made a mistake.
Then Bella extended her hips, the scream that followed echoed throughout the gymnasium, not because she was trying to hurt him, because the armbar was perfect.
Every inch of leverage was exactly where it needed to be. Every angle worked against him.
Years of repetition had made the movement second nature.
The crowd erupted immediately, the referee dropped beside them.
His free hand slapped frantically at Bella's grip while his legs kicked against the mat looking for some kind of escape. There wasn't one.
Bella could feel him fighting, could feel him twisting, could feel the panic growing stronger every second but she did not relent and used every ounce of her small frame and weight against him.
The entire afternoon had been built around the idea that Bella Madison wasn't as good as people thought she was and now the entire building was watching him discover the opposite.
"Do you submit?"
"No!"
The answer came instantly, full of despair, emotion and just too damn proud to accept defeat.
Bella adjusted her grip slightly, it wasn’t anything dramatic or malicious. And it was just enough as his next scream was louder and you could hear the crowd wince in pity for him.
The referee asked again, followed by another refusal, adjustment and quickly another cry of pain.
Bella never changed her expression, never yelled, celebrated or even taunted him, as much as she wanted to, because this wasn't personal anymore. That was the funny part, it had stopped being personal the moment she realized he needed it to be.
Eventually his free hand started hovering above the canvas, the fight was gone, the confidence was gone and his anger was gone. All that remained was somebody desperately trying to hold onto their pride.
Bella looked directly at him, then spoke for the first time since the match began. "Tap."
Her voice wasn't angry or even threatening. It was certain.
He held on for another second, then another and then reality finally caught up with him.
His hand slammed against the mat three times followed by the bell ringing and just like that, it was over. Bella released the hold immediately and stood.
As the crowd cheered around her, she looked down at him sitting on the canvas clutching his arm.
For months he had told himself she didn't belong there. For months he had convinced himself there had to be another reason, explanation or even a pathetic excuse.
Now there wasn't.
Because for the first time all afternoon, nobody was looking at Nick Madison or even at Laura Phoenix.
Everybody in that building was looking at Bella.
~*~~*~~*~
Bella was still staring at the photograph when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. A moment later Mal appeared in the doorway, looking far too pleased with himself.
Bella glanced up from her book, "She's asleep?"
Mal nodded. "Finally."
Bella laughed. "That bad?"
"It took 3 stories and a few songs before she finally zonked out. I feel like I’ve negotiated with terrorists."
"She's two and a half."
"Exactly." He disappeared briefly into the kitchen before soft music drifted through the house. Bella immediately recognized the song and groaned.
"Oh no."
Mal returned with a grin already spreading across his face. "Oh yes."
The opening notes of “My Cherie Amour” filled the room as he held out his hand. Bella looked from him to the stereo and back again. "You are such a sap."
"And yet here you are." Despite herself, she smiled and set her book aside. Mal pulled her to her feet and slipped an arm around her waist. Bella immediately started laughing as he guided her into a slow dance in the middle of the living room. "Your daughter gets all her stubbornness from you, by the way."
"My daughter?"
"Our daughter."
Mal shook his head. "Not tonight. She's all yours."
Bella laughed again and rested her head against his shoulder. For a few moments neither of them spoke. The fire crackled softly nearby while Stevie Wonder played in the background.
It was simple, quiet and normal, the kind of moment neither of them got enough of.
Bella finally glanced up at him. "You know you're a giant softie, right?"
Mal snorted. "Don't ruin my reputation."
She smiled. It was far too late for that and for a little while, the wrestling world stayed far away while Malachi O'Connell made sure his girls were taken care of.
~*~Chosen Violence: Bella's Quiet Revenge~*~
New York
The property was quiet in that way only a summer evening could be.
The sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold that stretched across the trees surrounding the O'Connell property. Somewhere behind the house, Luka was barking at something that probably didn't warrant the level of concern he was displaying. A gentle breeze rolled across the yard, carrying with it the scent of freshly cut grass and the distant sounds of life moving along without permission from anybody.
Bella Madison walked slowly across the property with her hands buried in the pockets of her hoodie. She wasn't heading anywhere in particular, at least not physically. Her boots carried her across familiar ground while her mind worked through something far less comfortable.
For a while she simply walked with the house sitting behind her and the barn standing ahead of her. Somewhere inside that house was her husband and her daughter. The two people who had somehow become the center of her universe without her ever realizing exactly when it happened.
Three years ago she would've been in that barn already. Five years ago she probably would've been angry enough to tear the door off its hinges. Now she was walking, thinking, and taking her time.
The difference wasn't age, the difference was understanding. Eventually she stopped and looked toward the barn and she laughed, not because anything was funny, because something finally made sense.
"Frankie, do you know what I've realized over the last few weeks?"
Bella shook her head slightly.
"The funny thing about losing is that everybody always assumes they know what part hurts the most. They think it's the embarrassment. They think it's the disappointment. They think it's having your hand raised by somebody else while you're forced to stand there and watch."
A small smile crossed her face.
"The problem is that most people have never actually lost something that mattered."
She started walking again, slowly, and comfortably like somebody having a conversation instead of delivering a speech.
"See, I've lost enough matches in my career that I should probably be used to it by now. I've lost championship opportunities. I've lost title matches. I've lost moments that I thought were going to change everything. Hell, I've lost matches that I still think about years later when I can't sleep."
She shrugged.
"That's part of this business." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What pissed me off about Into the Void wasn't the result."
Bella's voice became firmer.
"What pissed me off was walking into that hallway afterward and realizing I was staring at the same problem I've been staring at for years."
She stopped walking, the barn was closer now, not close enough to touch but still close enough to see.
"I knew better." The words came out without hesitation. "I knew exactly what was happening."
She pointed toward herself.
"I knew what was happening, Frankie. That's the part that made me sick afterward. I wasn't standing in that hallway wondering what went wrong. I knew what went wrong. I could have sat there and replayed the whole damn match move by move and pointed out every place where I should have trusted myself sooner. Every place where I saw the opening and waited one second too long. Every place where I let caution convince me I had more time than I actually did. That's not ignorance. That's worse. That's knowing better and doing it anyway."
Bella's jaw tightened.
"And somehow I was still standing there trying to calculate everything instead of trusting myself."
The frustration wasn't explosive, that made it worse as it was controlled and focused, the kind of anger that had been sitting quietly for weeks.
"Do you know how maddening that is, Frankie? Do you know what it feels like to spend years climbing your way through this business only to realize that the biggest obstacle you've got left is staring back at you every time you look in a mirror?"
She laughed, the sound carried no humor whatsoever.
"Because that's what finally broke me. Not the loss. The realization."
A slow breath escaped her.
"The realization that I was still doing the same damn thing I've always done."
Bella shook her head.
"I was still hesitating. That admission comes so easily now. I was still worrying about timing. I was still worrying about the consequences. I was still worrying about making the right decision instead of making a decision."
A bitter smile appeared on her face.
"And the women who kept beating me?"
She nodded.
"They weren't."
The smile disappeared.
"Kayla wasn't. Victoria wasn't. You aren't."
Bella looked directly into the camera.
"Because women like you don't stand there wondering whether the moment is right. You take it. You see an opening and you exploit it. You see weakness and you attack it. You see hesitation and you punish it."
Her voice remained calm.
"But here's the part I finally understand."
She took a few more steps forward.
"I spent years thinking that meant becoming somebody else."
Bella laughed softly.
"God, how wrong I’ve been, was...whatever."
The barn door stood only a short distance away now.
"I thought becoming more dangerous meant becoming cruel. I thought becoming more successful meant becoming colder. I thought becoming a killer meant sacrificing pieces of myself."
She shook her head.
"No."
A slow smile spread across her face.
"I spent years trying to make everybody comfortable with me. I tried being reasonable. I tried being patient. I tried being the version of Bella Madison that everybody could root for without feeling threatened by. Do you know where that got me? It got me a whole lot of respect and a whole lot of stories about how close I was. People respected me. People admired me. People talked about how tough I was. Then they watched somebody else climb the ladder, win the title, or seize the opportunity I was standing right next to. At some point I got tired of being respected for losing."
The words hung in the air, comfortably, confidently as Bella looked back toward the house toward her family, toward everything she'd built and then she looked forward again.
"You know what the biggest difference between me and the woman who walked into Into the Void is?"
Her smile widened.
"The woman who walked into Into the Void was still trying to prove something. I'm not. The woman who walked into Into the Void was still asking whether she belonged. I'm not. The woman who walked into Into the Void was still looking for permission."
Bella's expression hardened.
"I'm definitely not."
The confidence in her voice wasn't manufactured, it wasn't bravado, it was certainty. The kind that only comes after you've spent weeks forcing yourself to confront uncomfortable truths.
"So let's talk about you, Frankie." Bella folded her arms. "You've accomplished damn near everything there is to accomplish in this company. You're a former World Champion. You won Blast From The Past. You've built a reputation on being one of the smartest and most dangerous women in this division."
Bella nodded.
"You earned that."
The compliment landed, then came the knife.
"But somewhere along the way I think you started believing everybody else was still catching up."
The breeze rolled across the property, Bella didn't move.
"You talk like somebody who already knows how the story ends."
Her gaze sharpened.
"You talk like somebody who's spent so much time being the smartest person in the room that she stopped considering the possibility that everyone else might have learned something. That's dangerous, not for me but for Frankie. You keep looking at me and seeing the same woman."
The smile disappeared.
"The problem is that woman don't exist anymore and yes it is that fucking simple."
Bella stepped closer to the barn.
"I've spent the last several months getting my ass kicked by reality. Kayla taught me something. Victoria taught me something. The Queen For A Day match taught me something. Into the Void taught me something. And Bea Barnhart?"
Bella laughed.
"Bea got to learn what happens when all those lessons finally start coming together."
The barn door was directly in front of her now. She rested one hand against the weathered wood.
"Everybody keeps talking about how physically demanding that Falls Count Anywhere match was. They're right."
Her smile returned.
"Everything hurt. My ribs hurt. My back hurt. My knees hurt. I spent two days feeling like I got hit by a truck."
Bella nodded.
"That's all true."
Then her eyes locked onto the camera one last time.
"But if your game plan is built around the idea that Bella Madison is weakened because she got into a fight last week? You haven't been paying attention. Because the body heals. The bruises fade. The soreness goes away. The cuts close."
Bella's hand tightened slightly against the barn door.
"But confidence? Confidence lasts and for the first time in a very long time, I know exactly who I'm walking into that ring as."
She opened the barn door, the darkness beyond waited.
"You're expecting the version of me that keeps hesitating."
Bella stepped inside.
"Good luck finding her."
The door closed behind her.
