Three months later.
The penthouse had transformed.
Soft pink curtains framed the towering glass windows. Golden toys lined the custom-made crib beside Arabella's office desk, and a plush white bassinet sat just within reach of her manicured fingers.
Barbie never retired. She just evolved.
Arabella QuinVale—CEO, fashion icon, and new mother—tapped her glossy laptop closed and turned to the tiny coo coming from her daughter's blanket nest.
Aurora giggled, waving her little fists in the air like she already owned the world.
"She's already bossy," Arabella whispered proudly, lifting the baby into her arms. "Just like Mommy."
"Correction," Cassian said as he strolled in wearing a fitted navy suit. "Just like her parents."
Arabella turned, beaming. "You're early."
"I wrapped the board meeting fast. They don't dare argue when your name's attached to the agenda." He kissed her forehead, then the baby's. "Besides, I couldn't miss the celebration."
She smirked. "Desmond?"
Cassian nodded. "Stripped of shares. Assets frozen. QuinVale is fully under our control. He pled guilty this morning to fraud and conspiracy."
Arabella's eyes gleamed. "Barbie wins again."
Cassian grinned. "Always."
She leaned her head against his chest. "It's funny. I started this marriage wearing pink heels and no clue how to hold a pen. Now I'm in power suits, balancing bottles with board meetings."
"You're the heart of this company," he whispered. "And mine."
Aurora babbled between them, like she agreed.
They laughed together—their world no longer cold and corporate, but warm and filled with the soft scent of baby powder and rose perfume.
Cassian reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box.
Arabella blinked. "What's that?"
He opened it to reveal a shimmering diamond necklace—delicate, elegant, shaped like a crown.
"For my queen," he said softly. "For surviving Victor, Desmond, labor, and me."
Arabella's lips trembled. "You're my fairytale, Cassian. Not perfect. But real."
He clasped the necklace around her neck. "Then let's keep writing the story."
They stood together, overlooking the city from their glass tower. Aurora nestled between them, her tiny fingers curled in Arabella's hair.
The future was bright. Sparkling.
And as Arabella lifted her daughter high, the city bathed in sunset light, she smiled wide and fierce.
Pink heels. Black heart. Gold crown.
Game over.
Barbie won.