Chapter 18
The Venetti estate was alive with whispers. Men moved through the hallways with hushed voices, tension thickening like smoke in the air. Marco strode through the study doors and sank into the leather chair behind his desk. His head ached, but it wasn’t just the weight of the recent failures. It was the unease that had begun to creep into every corner of his mind.
Arianna entered moments later, elegant as always. Her confidence never seemed to waver—calm, collected, a shadow at his side. She held a folder in her hand, her expression carefully composed, though a faint smirk lingered on her lips.
“Is now a bad time?” she asked lightly.
Marco glanced at her. “It’s never a good time lately.”
“That’s because you’re surrounded by problems,” Arianna said, her voice smooth. She perched on the edge of the desk, flipping open the folder. “And the root of all those problems keeps leading back to one person, doesn’t it?”
Marco frowned, not answering. Arianna didn’t need him to. She turned the folder toward him, revealing a series of photos—grainy, distant shots of Vincent Rossi’s countryside estate. Several of the photos showed Carmen stepping out of the house, speaking to figures Marco couldn’t identify.
“Where did you get these?” Marco asked, his voice low.
“A contact,” Arianna replied, brushing it off. “Does it matter?” She leaned in, her tone soft, persuasive. “She’s not hiding, Marco. She’s plotting. You’re chasing shadows in this war, but Carmen is sitting at Vincent’s table, likely helping him dismantle everything you’ve worked for.”
Marco’s jaw tightened, his gaze locked on the images. He recognized the shape of her, the tilt of her head, even through the blurry resolution. The photos made his chest ache, but Arianna’s words—her accusations—began to take hold.
“She wouldn’t,” he muttered, though the certainty in his voice wavered.
Arianna tilted her head, watching him like a predator toying with its prey. “Are you sure? Carmen is clever, but she’s not innocent. She didn’t run away to save herself—she ran to Vincent, your oldest enemy. Ask yourself why.”
Marco looked away, his fists clenching against the desk. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to push Arianna’s words aside, but they slithered into his thoughts, wrapping around the seed of doubt that had already taken root.
Arianna stood, walking slowly toward the window. “Men like Vincent don’t do favors, Marco. He’s helping her because there’s something in it for him. And Carmen? If she’s still loyal to you, why hasn’t she come back? Why does she stay with him?”
Silence. Marco’s thoughts twisted painfully. Arianna didn’t press further. She didn’t need to. She turned back to him, her smile faint but sharp.
“I’m only looking out for you,” she said softly. “Someone has to.”
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The soft crackle of the fire filled Vincent’s library, but Carmen wasn’t listening to it. She sat at the small desk, papers spread before her, the weight of everything growing heavier with each passing day. Her phone buzzed softly beside her, breaking the silence. She picked it up, her heart beating faster when she saw Luca’s name.
“Luca?” she answered quickly.
“It’s worse than we thought,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with something she couldn’t quite place. “Arianna’s been spreading rumors. The men are hearing whispers that you’re working with Vincent—plotting against Marco.”
Carmen closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. “I should have expected this.”
“She’s poisoning him, Carmen. She’s making him question everything—everything he thought he knew about you.”
Carmen was silent for a moment. “And Marco? Does he believe it?”
Luca hesitated, and the pause told her more than his words ever could. “I don’t know what he believes anymore,” he said finally. “But he’s listening to her. She has his ear.”
Carmen’s fingers tightened around the phone. “Then I need you to deliver a message to him, Luca. Directly.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Tell him that Arianna is lying. Tell him I have proof. She’s done this before—to other families, to the De Lucas. Everything she’s telling him is a lie meant to destroy him.”
Luca sighed on the other end. “Carmen, you know how he is. If he thinks it’s coming from you—”
“It has to come from me.” Her voice broke slightly, but she steadied it. “He needs to know I’m not his enemy. He needs to hear it, even if he doesn’t believe it yet.”
Luca was quiet for a moment before he replied. “I’ll tell him. But don’t get your hopes up. He’s not himself right now.”
“Just deliver the message,” she said softly. “Please.”
“I will,” Luca promised.
When the call ended, Carmen sat back in her chair, her hand resting protectively on her stomach. The ache in her chest was almost unbearable. Marco might not listen. He might dismiss her warning, just as Arianna wanted him to. But she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t give up—not when her family’s safety hung in the balance.
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Luca found Marco pacing in the estate’s empty study, a glass of whiskey clutched tightly in his hand. The room smelled faintly of smoke and something heavier—desperation.
“You’re drinking alone now?” Luca asked, keeping his voice casual as he stepped inside.
Marco didn’t answer, his gaze locked on the flames flickering in the fireplace. “What do you want, Luca?”
“I need to talk to you,” Luca said carefully, walking closer. “It’s important.”
Marco glanced at him, his expression hard and unreadable. “Go on, then.”
Luca hesitated, searching Marco’s face before speaking. “I talked to Carmen.”
Marco’s jaw tightened. “Did you?”
“She sent me to warn you,” Luca continued, ignoring the growing tension in the room. “Arianna is lying to you, Marco. Carmen says she has proof—proof that Arianna’s been sabotaging families for years. The De Lucas, the Bernardis… she’s done this before. She’s doing it again, to you.”
Marco turned sharply, his eyes blazing. “You’re bringing me her lies now, too?”
“They’re not lies,” Luca insisted. “You know Carmen, Marco. You know who she is. You think she’d stay with Vincent by choice? You think she’d risk herself, her child, to play games against you?”
The mention of the child made Marco falter, just for a moment, but he recovered quickly, his voice cold. “She’s the one who ran. She’s the one who left.”
Luca stepped closer. “Because you pushed her away. Because Arianna made you doubt her. And now you’re letting that same woman tear everything apart.”
Marco’s glare sharpened. “That’s enough, Luca.”
Luca held his ground. “Don’t do this, Marco. Don’t let her win.”
Marco turned away, draining the last of his whiskey before slamming the glass onto the table. “Get out.”
Luca stared at him for a long moment, his disappointment clear. Finally, he turned and walked out of the room without another word.
As the door closed, Marco stood alone, staring at the fire. Luca’s words echoed in his mind, mixing with Arianna’s whispers, with Carmen’s absence, with everything he couldn’t quite reconcile.
What if Luca was right? What if Arianna was lying?
The thought clawed at him, but he pushed it down, drowning it in silence. The fire crackled softly, but Marco didn’t move. He couldn’t. For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t sure who to believe.
