Chapter 44
The heavy rain continued to lash against the windows of Marco’s office, streaking the glass like countless tears. Inside, Marco sat slouched at his desk, the quiet weight of his own guilt pressing against his chest like an iron hand. Papers lay scattered across the surface—maps of lost territories, lists of fallen men—but his gaze wasn’t on any of them.
It was on the empty glass in front of him.
He hadn’t been able to sleep. Not for days. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Carmen—her face tight with anger and hurt, her voice breaking as she told him about their child. “I will not let you jeopardize our future.”
Luca’s voice broke the silence, pulling Marco from his spiraling thoughts. “You’re not doing yourself any favors sitting here in the dark.”
Marco glanced up, his eyes bloodshot. Luca stood at the door, arms crossed, his face marked with something between concern and frustration.
“I don’t need a lecture,” Marco muttered, rubbing a hand across his face.
“You don’t need a lecture, but you need a reality check,” Luca replied, stepping further into the room. “The men are shaken. Your outposts are under attack, Carmen’s rallying the allies you’re losing, and you’re in here staring at your desk like the answers are going to appear in a whiskey glass.”
Marco’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.
Luca sighed, softening slightly as he sat down in the chair across from Marco. “Look, I know this is eating at you. I know you’re wrestling with what you did to Carmen—what you said, what you believed. But this empire won’t survive if you keep second-guessing yourself.”
Marco looked at him sharply. “You think I don’t know that?”
“Then act like it,” Luca shot back. “You’re not just fighting Arianna; you’re fighting yourself. And every minute you spend doubting Carmen, you’re giving Arianna more ground to exploit.”
Marco fell silent, his hand clenching into a fist on the desk.
Luca leaned forward, his voice quieter now. “You need to fix things with her, Marco. Not just for her sake or for the baby, but for you. For the family. This whole thing falls apart unless the two of you are united, and you know it.”
Marco didn’t respond right away, his mind a storm of conflicting thoughts. “She doesn’t trust me.”
“Then earn it back,” Luca said simply. “Before it’s too late.”
Marco stared at the desk for a long moment, the weight of Luca’s words settling heavily on his shoulders. He knew Luca was right. He had let Arianna’s lies pull Carmen away, and now she was holding the pieces of the empire together better than he was. He had to face the truth: they couldn’t fight Arianna fractured.
They had to fight as equals.
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The next morning, an unmarked package arrived at the Venetti estate. It was Luca who brought it to Marco, his face pale and his voice tight as he set it on the desk. “You need to see this.”
Marco frowned as he opened the box, his brow furrowing when he found nothing but a videotape inside.
“No note?” Marco asked, though his gut already twisted with dread.
Luca shook his head. “Just the tape.”
Wordlessly, Marco slid the tape into the small player beneath the TV in the corner of the room. The screen flickered to life, static giving way to a dark, concrete room illuminated by a single hanging bulb. A man knelt in the center, his hands tied behind his back, his face bloodied and bruised.
Marco’s stomach dropped. It was Antonio—one of his top lieutenants. Loyal, steadfast Antonio, who had served the Venettis for nearly a decade.
The camera panned to the side, and Arianna stepped into view, dressed in black and wearing a faint smile. Her cool, elegant demeanor made the brutality of the scene all the more chilling.
“Marco,” she purred, as though addressing him personally. “By now, you’ve felt the cracks forming beneath your empire. This is just the beginning.”
She gestured to Antonio, her fingers flicking through the air like she was conducting an orchestra. “You can stop this. All of it. Surrender the eastern territories. Acknowledge my rightful place in this city, and no more of your men have to suffer.”
Antonio’s gaze flickered toward the camera, his expression hollow but defiant. Before Marco could process what was happening, Arianna stepped back, giving a silent cue to the shadowed figure beside her.
The sound of a gunshot rang through the room, and the screen went black.
Marco stood frozen, his hands gripping the edge of his desk as anger roared through him like wildfire.
“That’s it.” His voice was low, dangerous, barely controlled.
Luca stood near the door, his face set in grim determination. “She’s testing you. She wants you to lash out so she can strike again.”
“She wants a war,” Marco growled, his knuckles white. “She’ll get one.”
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That evening, the war room was alive with tension as Carmen and Marco stood on opposite sides of the table. Maps and reports lay spread before them, but it was the silence—the uneasy, heavy silence—that dominated the room.
“This attack proves Arianna’s getting bolder,” Carmen said finally, her voice calm but firm. “We need to move faster, reinforce the territories she’s targeting.”
Marco’s gaze flickered toward her, the lines on his face deeper than before. “I know.”
Carmen raised an eyebrow. “Then stop hesitating.”
Marco exhaled sharply, the words stinging. “I’m not hesitating.”
“You are,” Carmen shot back. “You’re letting her pull you into a reaction instead of thinking ahead. That’s how she wins.”
Marco stared at her, a flash of regret in his eyes. “You’re right.”
Carmen blinked, momentarily surprised. “What?”
“You’re right,” Marco repeated quietly, his voice softer now. “I’ve let her get the better of me. I let her manipulate me… and I pushed you away because of it.”
Carmen turned her head slightly, her expression guarded. “Marco—”
“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he said quickly, holding up a hand. “I know I haven’t earned that. But I need you to know that I see it now. I see everything I got wrong.”
Carmen watched him for a long moment, her arms crossed tightly. Finally, she nodded. “Good. Because I’m not going to let Arianna—or you—jeopardize my child’s future.”
Marco’s gaze softened. “I don’t want that either.”
“Then prove it,” Carmen said simply, her tone unyielding. “We work together against her, but don’t think this means I trust you again. That has to be earned.”
Marco nodded, accepting her words for what they were. “I’ll earn it. I swear.”
Carmen looked away, her fingers tracing the edge of the map on the table. “We don’t have time for anything else. Arianna won’t stop, and neither can we.”
The quiet between them lingered, less hostile than before but still heavy with everything unsaid. For now, there was no room for reconciliation—only strategy, survival, and the war they were about to wage together.
Marco stepped back, his voice steady but low. “We’ll take her down, Carmen. I promise you that.”
Carmen met his gaze, her eyes sharp with resolve. “We’ll see.”
