Chapter 31
The grand hall of the Venetti estate stood in silence, but the tension in the air was suffocating. Outside, the rain beat relentlessly against the windows, muffling the echo of Marco’s measured footsteps as he walked toward Arianna. She stood in the center of the room, back straight, a faint smirk playing at the corners of her lips despite the storm she could see in Marco’s dark, piercing gaze.
Luca had delivered the last of the evidence earlier that day—communications, financial trails, and planted proof that even Arianna couldn’t explain away. Marco held the papers in his hand now, gripping them so tightly the edges crumpled beneath his fingers.
Arianna tilted her head as he stopped in front of her, her expression a portrait of calculated calm. “You look tired, Marco.”
“Do you recognize these?” Marco’s voice was low, dangerous. He tossed the papers onto the table between them. The sheets scattered, black ink spelling out her betrayal for anyone willing to look.
Arianna glanced at them, her smirk faltering for the barest moment before she masked it with an air of indifference. “You’ve been busy.”
“Don’t play games with me.” Marco’s voice was sharp now, his control fraying at the edges. “Every detail leads back to you. The De Luca alliances. The sabotage. The accounts.” He leaned closer, his tone a growl. “You’ve been feeding them everything, and you used me to do it.”
Arianna’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and then, shockingly, she laughed—a soft, almost pitying sound. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s not a theory. It’s the truth,” Marco snapped, slamming his fist against the table. “I trusted you, Arianna. I let you in, and this is how you repay me?”
Arianna’s smile vanished, replaced by something cold and sharp. “And whose fault is that, Marco? You trusted me because you had no one else. Because the woman you loved ran to another man.”
“Don’t—”
“No,” Arianna cut him off, her voice hardening as she stepped closer, her heels clicking against the marble floor. “Let’s talk about Carmen. She ran, Marco. She didn’t fight for you. She didn’t stand beside you. She went straight to Vincent Rossi. Do you think she did that out of fear? Out of survival? Please.”
Marco’s shoulders tensed, his jaw working as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
Arianna smiled faintly, her tone turning softer—almost consoling. “She betrayed you long before I ever came into the picture. And now she’s back, feeding you lies and turning you against me.”
“Stop,” Marco muttered, though his voice lacked its earlier edge.
Arianna tilted her head, studying him. “You haven’t asked the most important question, Marco.”
“What question?”
“Why Carmen ran to Vincent in the first place,” Arianna said softly, her words like poison dripping into the air. “And what happened while she was there.”
Marco frowned, his brow furrowing as her meaning began to sink in.
Arianna took another step toward him, her gaze steady. “Carmen didn’t leave because she was scared of me, or because she was trying to protect you. She left because she’s been with Vincent this whole time.”
“Lies,” Marco snapped, though his voice trembled slightly.
“Is it?” Arianna arched an eyebrow, her voice deceptively gentle. “You think she’s been loyal to you? Why would she? She ran to him—straight into his arms. Old habits die hard, Marco.”
“Don’t,” Marco warned again, his voice growing hoarse.
“And what about the baby?” Arianna continued her words cutting like glass. “You really think it’s yours?”
The room went deadly still. Marco stared at her, his face paling as though she’d struck him.
Arianna’s smile was faint, almost sympathetic. “You haven’t asked her, have you? Haven’t demanded the truth. Carmen’s been hiding something from you, and I’m willing to bet she won’t tell you whose child she’s carrying.”
Marco’s heart pounded painfully in his chest. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” Arianna’s voice remained steady, her tone soft and dangerous, like a serpent coiling around its prey. “Think about it, Marco. She disappeared. She stayed with Vincent—your greatest rival—for weeks. Do you think he wouldn’t take advantage of that?”
“Stop,” Marco hissed, though the word sounded more like a plea.
Arianna shrugged, as though the matter didn’t concern her. “You can believe whatever you want. But the truth always has a way of coming out.”
Marco turned away sharply, his hands bracing against the edge of the table as he struggled to steady his breathing. Her words echoed in his mind, twisting with the doubts that had been gnawing at him for weeks.
She stayed with Vincent. She hid the pregnancy. She left you.
“Why are you telling me this now?” Marco asked finally, his voice raw.
“Because you deserve to know,” Arianna replied softly. “I care about you, Marco. I always have. I’ve fought for you while she ran away. You need to stop letting her manipulate you before it’s too late.”
Marco didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His mind was a tangle of anger, doubt, and confusion. Carmen’s sudden return, her secrecy, her refusal to tell him everything—it all came flooding back now, feeding the seed of suspicion Arianna had planted.
Was she lying? Was Carmen hiding something?
“Get out,” Marco said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Arianna didn’t argue. She turned gracefully, walking toward the door, her expression calm and composed. “You know where to find me when you’re ready to face the truth.”
As the door closed behind her, Marco sank into the nearest chair, his head in his hands.
________________
Later that night, Marco sat alone in his darkened office. The only light came from the streetlamp outside, its glow cutting thin, pale stripes across the floor. Arianna’s words repeated in his mind like a broken record, growing louder with every passing minute.
Do you think it’s yours?
He wanted to dismiss it—to throw it out as one of her manipulative lies—but the truth was a cruel thing: doubt had already taken root. Carmen’s secrecy, her refusal to tell him why she left, why she stayed with Vincent—it all played back in his mind, taunting him.
Marco closed his eyes, memories of Carmen washing over him. The way she used to look at him with unshakable trust. The nights they spent together in quiet moments of safety, when the chaos of their world felt miles away.
She wouldn’t… he told himself. But the voice in the back of his mind wouldn’t be silenced.
The door creaked open suddenly, and Luca stepped inside, his face etched with concern.
“You look like hell,” Luca said, studying Marco’s haggard expression.
“What if she’s lying to me, Luca?” Marco asked, his voice hoarse, almost desperate.
Luca hesitated before responding, his tone careful. “About what?”
Marco’s fingers curled into fists as he looked up, his eyes dark. “The baby. Carmen. Everything.”
Luca didn’t flinch. “And what does your gut say?”
Marco leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he let out a long, shaky breath. “I don’t know anymore.”
Luca’s gaze hardened, and after a beat, he said, “Then figure it out, Marco. Before it’s too late.”
Marco didn’t respond, but as Luca left the room, his words lingered in the air. Marco’s mind spun endlessly, torn between the doubt Arianna had sewn and the truth he wasn’t ready to face.
If Carmen was lying—if the baby wasn’t his—he didn’t know what he would do.
But if Arianna had been lying this whole time…
Marco closed his eyes as the storm inside him raged, knowing one thing for certain.
There was no coming back from what would happen next.
