hapter 32
Carmen sat on the edge of the armchair in Vincent’s study, staring blankly into the flickering flames of the fireplace. The warmth on her face felt hollow, unable to push back the cold sense of dread creeping up her spine. Something had shifted. She could feel it—like a thread tugged just out of view, unraveling everything she’d worked to piece together.
Luca’s message had been short and urgent: “Arianna’s alive. Be careful.”
The moment the words hit her phone, her stomach dropped. She gripped the arm of the chair tightly, her knuckles white as she reread it for the fifth time.
Vincent stood across the room, watching her with a sharp eye as he sipped from his tumbler of whiskey. “You’re quiet,” he said finally, breaking the silence. “That’s rarely a good sign.”
“She’s alive,” Carmen murmured, more to herself than to him.
Vincent frowned, lowering his glass. “Arianna?”
Carmen nodded, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “Luca confirmed it. I knew she wouldn’t go quietly, but…” She trailed off, her thoughts spiraling. “She’s still pulling strings, Vincent. Somehow, she’s still in his ear.”
Vincent smirked faintly, though his eyes stayed sharp. “You’re surprised? Women like Arianna don’t fall without a fight. You should’ve made sure she was finished.”
Carmen shot him a sharp look. “It’s not that simple. You don’t know what she’s capable of.”
“Oh, I think I do,” Vincent said, swirling the liquid in his glass. “And I also know that Marco has a blind spot for her. If she’s still alive, that blind spot is going to cost you.”
Carmen stood suddenly, pacing toward the window. Rain streaked down the glass in long, shimmering lines, the sky dark and endless beyond it. “She’s going to twist everything again. If Marco’s listening to her, it means he’s doubting me.”
Vincent’s voice followed her, calm and cutting. “Is he wrong to doubt you?”
Carmen turned sharply, her eyes flashing. “What?”
Vincent tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “I’m just saying… you haven’t been entirely honest with him, have you? He doesn’t know about the baby. He doesn’t know everything you’ve done to get back here. You’re expecting Marco to trust you, but you’ve given him every reason not to.”
Carmen exhaled sharply, her hand drifting to her stomach. “I didn’t tell him about the baby because it wasn’t safe. And I didn’t come back for his trust—I came back to stop Arianna.”
Vincent chuckled softly, setting his glass down with a quiet clink. “Whatever you say, Carmen. But Arianna’s alive. That means she still has a hold on him. And if you’re not careful, she’ll use it to cut you out completely.”
Carmen turned back toward the window, her expression hardening as she stared into the storm. She couldn’t let Arianna win. Not again.
________________
The study was quiet when Marco entered, his footsteps heavy as he pushed the door closed behind him. He was tired—bone-deep, soul-weary tired—and the storm raging outside mirrored the turmoil churning inside him.
Carmen was waiting, her back straight as she stood near the fireplace. She looked calm, but Marco could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands clenched tightly together in front of her.
“You’re here again,” he said, his voice low and sharp.
“Did you expect me to disappear?” Carmen shot back, turning to face him.
Marco ignored the jab, stepping closer as he studied her. There was a time when seeing her like this—her chin tilted in defiance, her eyes blazing—would have stirred something deep and familiar inside him. Now, all it did was make the storm in his mind rage harder.
“I need answers,” Marco said finally, his tone cold and deliberate. “Why did you run to Vincent?”
Carmen’s brows furrowed, clearly thrown by the question. “We’ve been through this, Marco. I ran because Arianna had turned you against me. I ran because I didn’t have a choice.”
“That’s not what I’m asking,” Marco said, his voice hardening. “Why him, Carmen? Of all people, why Vincent?”
The weight of his words hit her like a slap, and for a moment, she couldn’t respond. “What are you saying?” she asked cautiously.
Marco’s jaw tightened, his gaze dark and unreadable. “Did something happen between you two?”
Carmen’s heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. “What?”
“You heard me,” Marco said coldly. “You spent weeks with him—weeks hiding, weeks in his house. And now you come back here, asking me to trust you.” He took a step closer, his voice dropping dangerously. “Tell me the truth, Carmen. Did you go back to him?”
The accusation hung in the air like a dagger, and Carmen felt her anger flare hot and sharp. “How dare you?”
“Answer the question,” Marco snapped, his voice rising.
Carmen stepped forward, her eyes blazing with fury. “You think I went to Vincent because I wanted to? I ran to him because I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Because you let Arianna drive me out!”
“That’s not an answer,” Marco bit back.
“You’re a fool,” Carmen said, her voice trembling with anger. “Do you really think I would betray you like that? Do you really think I would spend weeks risking my life to bring you the truth if I didn’t care about you—about what happens to us?”
Marco stared at her, his expression a mix of anger and doubt. “You’ve been hiding something from me since the moment you came back. I know it.”
Carmen faltered, her breath catching. She wanted to tell him then and there—about the baby, about everything—but Arianna’s shadow loomed too large. If he was already doubting her, would he believe her now?
Her silence only deepened the rift. Marco’s lips curled into a faint, bitter smirk. “That’s what I thought.”
“You don’t know anything,” Carmen said, her voice low and sharp as tears stung her eyes. “You don’t know what I’ve been through. What I’ve had to do to get back here, to save you from her.”
“And why would you save me?” Marco asked, his tone cutting. “You ran, Carmen. You left me to clean up the mess.”
“I ran because I thought it was the only way to keep us both alive!” Carmen shouted, her voice breaking.
The room fell silent, the storm outside raging as the two of them stood there, breathing hard, staring at each other across a distance that felt too wide to bridge.
Finally, Marco looked away, his face hardening as he turned toward the door. “You expect me to trust you, but you can’t even be honest with me.”
“I am being honest,” Carmen said softly, though her voice trembled.
Marco didn’t look back as he opened the door. “Not honest enough.”
He walked out, leaving her alone in the flickering light of the fireplace.
Carmen sank into the nearest chair, her hands shaking as she stared at the flames. She had tried to tell him the truth—tried to make him see—but Arianna’s poison had sunk too deep.
And now, the gap between them felt wider than ever.
