Chapter 42
Marco’s car pulled to a stop in front of Vincent Rossi’s countryside estate, the once-pristine gravel drive now muddied by the steady drizzle that fell from the gray sky. Marco sat in the backseat, his hands clenched on his knees as he stared through the rain-streaked window at the sprawling house. His anger sat in his chest like a weight, heavy and unrelenting.
“Are you sure about this?” Luca asked from the front seat, turning to glance at Marco with a hint of concern.
Marco didn’t respond immediately. His jaw tightened, and he opened the door, stepping out into the cold, damp air. “I need answers,” he said finally, his voice hard.
Luca sighed but followed him, the two men approaching the estate’s entrance. It wasn’t long before one of Vincent’s guards let them in, his face carefully neutral as he led them through the halls.
Vincent was waiting in his office, seated behind an ornate desk with a glass of wine in his hand. He looked as cool and collected as always, his tailored shirt immaculate despite the dreary weather outside. His sharp eyes swept over Marco, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Vincent said, setting the glass down. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Marco?”
Marco’s fists curled at his sides as he stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t play games with me, Vincent. You know why I’m here.”
Vincent arched a brow, feigning confusion. “Do I?”
Marco’s eyes narrowed. “Arianna’s lies—the ones she fed me about Carmen—your name was all over them.”
Vincent’s smirk faded as he leaned back in his chair, his expression turning serious. “You think I had something to do with Arianna’s games?”
“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” Marco shot back. “You gave Carmen a place to hide. You had the opportunity to plant doubt, to play both sides. You knew what you were doing.”
Vincent’s gaze darkened as he stood, slowly crossing the room to face Marco. Despite Marco’s rage, Vincent looked utterly unshaken. “You really are a fool, Marco. I gave Carmen a place to hide because she had no one else. Because you let Arianna turn her life into hell. I didn’t touch her, I didn’t manipulate her, and I sure as hell didn’t help Arianna set you up.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Marco growled.
Vincent stepped closer, his voice quiet but sharp as a blade. “I don’t care what you believe. But you’re here, aren’t you? That means you’re starting to see the truth—about Arianna, about yourself. So let’s be honest for a second. This mess isn’t my doing, Marco. It’s yours.”
Marco stiffened, his eyes flashing. “Watch your mouth, Vincent.”
“Or what?” Vincent sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “You came here looking for someone to blame. But the only person you should be pointing fingers at is yourself. Arianna played you because you let her. Carmen left because you drove her to it.”
Marco’s fists tightened, but Vincent didn’t stop.
“You’ve been so busy wallowing in your own anger that you couldn’t see the truth standing right in front of you,” Vincent said. “And now? You’re losing everything. Carmen, your allies, your family—it’s all slipping through your fingers.”
Marco stared at him, his breathing heavy, every word hitting him harder than he wanted to admit.
Vincent took a step back, his expression softening slightly. “You want to fix this? Then start acting like the man Carmen thought you were. She’s stronger than she’s ever been, Marco, and she’s done it without you. But if you want to be worthy of her, of the life she’s trying to protect, then wake up. Stop letting your pride and your anger blind you.”
The room fell silent, save for the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. Marco said nothing, his mind reeling as Vincent’s words settled over him like lead.
Finally, Vincent turned back toward his desk, reaching for his glass of wine. “Now, unless you have anything else to accuse me of, I think we’re done here.”
Marco didn’t respond. He turned sharply and walked toward the door, Luca following close behind.
“Marco,” Vincent called, stopping him just before he left. Marco turned slightly, glancing back over his shoulder.
“Carmen deserves better than this,” Vincent said softly. “So does your child.”
Marco didn’t answer. He stepped into the hallway, the door closing behind him with a quiet finality.
________________
The Venetti estate was still when Marco returned later that evening, the rain having finally slowed to a faint drizzle. Carmen stood in the main hall, waiting for him, her posture straight and her expression unreadable.
“You went to see Vincent,” she said, her voice cool.
Marco met her gaze, his chest tightening. “I did.”
Carmen nodded slightly, as though she had expected the answer. “And?”
Marco hesitated, searching her face for any flicker of the warmth that had once been there. “He told me the truth.”
“And what truth was that?” Carmen asked, crossing her arms.
“That Arianna played me,” Marco admitted, his voice low. “That I let her turn me against you.”
Carmen’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes shining with a mix of frustration and sadness. “It took you this long to realize it?”
Marco took a step closer, his voice quieter now. “I can’t change the past, Carmen. I know that. But I need you to understand that I see it now. I see what she’s done—what I’ve done.”
Carmen’s gaze didn’t waver. “Seeing it isn’t enough, Marco. Not anymore.”
Marco’s jaw tensed as her words hit him like a punch to the gut. “Then tell me what is enough. Tell me how I can fix this.”
Carmen took a deep breath, her voice steady as she spoke. “You can’t fix this with words. You can’t erase what you did with apologies.” She stepped closer, her gaze sharp and unwavering. “The only thing that matters now is stopping Arianna before she destroys what’s left of this empire. And I’ll help you do that. But make no mistake—this is not about us.”
Marco flinched, her words cutting deep, but he nodded. “I understand.”
“Good,” Carmen said simply. “Because this isn’t just about you anymore. I will not let anyone jeopardize my child’s future. Not Arianna, and not you.”
The finality in her tone hit him hard, but Marco didn’t argue. He simply nodded again, his voice steady despite the ache in his chest. “Then we work together. Arianna won’t get away with this.”
“Agreed,” Carmen replied.
For a long moment, they stood in silence, the distance between them still vast and unyielding. Marco watched her, searching for something—anything—that might hint at forgiveness. But Carmen had built walls around herself now, walls he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to break through.
Finally, she turned and walked toward the grand staircase, pausing only briefly. “We meet with Luca and the others tomorrow. We don’t have time to waste.”
Marco watched her go, his chest heavy with regret. For so long, he had believed Arianna’s lies, and now the truth sat in front of him like a mirror he couldn’t look away from. Carmen was right—this wasn’t about them anymore.
But that didn’t mean Marco wouldn’t fight to rebuild what they had lost.
And this time, he wouldn’t let anyone stand in his way.
