Marco sat on the edge of the bed, his hands pressed against his knees, his head bowed low. His knuckles were white, his breathing uneven.
Carmen stood in front of him, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
“Tell me what she said,” she demanded. Marco exhaled slowly, his entire body tense. Finally, he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Valeria said there’s someone tied to Rafael,” he muttered. “Someone who wants me dead. Maybe even both of us.”
Carmen’s stomach tightened, but she kept her expression calm, controlled.
“And you believe her?” she asked, voice sharper than she intended.
Marco ran a hand down his face. “I don’t know what to believe, Carmen. But she knew about the attack. She knew someone was coming after me before it even happened.”
Carmen shook her head, biting back a bitter laugh.
“No,” she said firmly. “No, this is ridiculous. Valeria was supposed to be dead, Marco. She disappeared for years, and now she just shows up with some half-baked warning?”
Marco’s jaw tensed. “You think I don’t know how insane this sounds?” he snapped.
“Then why are you letting her get in your head?!” she snapped back.
“Because what if she’s right?” Marco stood abruptly, towering over her. “What if this is bigger than we thought?”
Carmen clenched her teeth. “No, Marco,” she bit out. “You’re letting a ghost from your past manipulate you. And you’re too blind to see it.”
Marco’s hands curled into fists at his sides, his eyes dark with frustration. And then—
A soft voice cut through the tension. “Maybe,” Ella murmured.
Both of them turned. She stood at the doorway, her expression unreadable, her hands folded neatly in front of her. “I’m so sorry to chime in, but maybe Valeria isn’t the real problem,” Ella said, tilting her head slightly.
Carmen frowned. “What do you mean?”
Ella sighed, stepping further into the room. “You know Marco better than anyone, don’t you, Mrs. Venetti?”
Carmen stiffened. “Of course I do.”
Ella smiled softly, but there was something too knowing in her eyes. “Then why are you doubting him?”
Carmen’s stomach twisted.
“I’m not—”
“A man like Marco has enemies,” Ella continued, turning her gaze toward Marco. “Some he doesn’t even know about. Some he’s never told you about.”
Carmen’s breath hitched. Marco flinched. Ella’s words settled deep, planting doubt, something Carmen didn’t want to acknowledge.
“Secrets always have a way of coming out,” Ella murmured, before offering a gentle, reassuring smile. “But I’m sure Marco has told you everything… right?”
Carmen felt her entire body go cold. She turned to Marco. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. A thick, unspoken tension filled the air.
Carmen exhaled slowly. “Marco, is there something you’re not telling me?”
Silence. Marco’s hands twitched at his sides, his throat bobbing. He didn’t answer. Carmen’s heart sank. “Of course there is,” she whispered. Ella smiled faintly, lowering her gaze as if she hadn’t just dropped a grenade into their marriage.
“I’ll go check on Matteo,” she said smoothly, slipping out of the room.
Carmen stood there, her pulse hammering.
“I can’t believe you,” she whispered.
Marco finally looked at her, his eyes dark, conflicted.
“Carmen—”
“Don’t,” she snapped, stepping back. “If you won’t tell me everything, then don’t tell me anything at all.”
She turned on her heel and left the room, slamming the door behind her.
Later that day, Carmen stood in the hallway, rubbing her temples, trying to push down the frustration boiling inside her.
Then, she heard Matteo giggling. She peeked into the living room. Matteo sat in Ella’s lap, laughing as she tickled his belly.
“Stop, Nanny!” he squealed, kicking his tiny feet.
Ella chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.
“Alright, alright, no more tickles,” she said warmly.
Matteo grinned up at her, eyes sparkling.
“I love you, Mama.”
Carmen froze. Ella stiffened for just a second, but then—she smiled. “I love you too, sweetheart,” she whispered, brushing his hair back. Carmen felt her stomach drop.
“Matteo,” she called out, stepping into the room.
Matteo turned, his little face lighting up.
“Mama!” he chirped, reaching for her.
“What did you just call Ella?” she asked carefully.
Matteo blinked, confused. “Nanny?”
Carmen swallowed, her throat tight. Had she imagined it? Had she just misheard? Ella simply smiled softly, rubbing Matteo’s back.
“He’s tired,” she said.
Carmen forced a smile. “Right.”
But as she walked away, something gnawed at her. She hadn’t imagined it. Matteo had called Ella Mama. And that terrified her.
That night, Carmen couldn’t sleep. She got up, moving through the dark halls, needing to clear her mind. Then—
She heard something. A voice. Coming from Ella’s room. Carmen froze. She crept closer, pressing her ear against the door. Inside, Ella’s voice was soft, almost… tender.
“I will make it right, my son.”
Carmen’s blood ran cold.
“I will make it right.”
A soft rustling sound, like fabric against fingers. “I promise you.”