Carmen’s breath hitched as Marco’s words sliced through her like a knife.
“You were the one betraying me.”
Her heart pounded violently, a sharp ache spreading through her chest.
“Marco, please,” she whispered, stepping closer. “You know me. You know I would never—”
Marco’s jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful.
“Enough!” he roared, making her flinch. “I don’t want to hear another f**king word!”
Carmen shook her head frantically, tears welling in her eyes.
“It’s not me!” she pleaded. “I don’t know how those papers got there, but I swear to you—”
Marco grabbed her wrist, his grip like steel.
“You’re done lying to me,” he growled.
Carmen barely had time to react before he yanked her toward the front door, his movements rough, unrelenting.
“Marco, stop!” she cried, trying to resist, trying to pull away, but he was too strong.
Her feet stumbled as he dragged her through the hallway, past the staircase, toward the massive wooden doors that led outside.
“Please, Marco!” she begged, her voice breaking. “Think about Matteo! You’re making a mistake!”
Marco didn’t look back. Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t listen. With a furious grunt, he swung the door open. A cold gust of night air hit her skin, making her shiver.
“Marco, please—”
He cut her off with one brutal motion. He threw her out. Carmen stumbled, nearly falling to her knees as she landed on the cold pavement outside. Shock rippled through her.
She lifted her head, staring at him in pure disbelief.
“You’re my husband,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
Marco stood in the doorway, his face like stone, his eyes cold and unforgiving.
“Not anymore,” he said. He slammed the door shut.
A soft gasp broke the silence. Ella stood a few feet away, her hands clasped to her chest, her eyes wide with fake concern.
“Oh, Mr. Venetti,” she breathed, stepping forward. “Please, don’t do this.”
Marco exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead, his body still coiled with fury. “Stay out of it, Ella,” he muttered, turning away from the door.
Ella reached for his arm gently, her touch light, hesitant.
“But sir, think of Matteo,” she urged softly. “This will devastate him.”
Marco tensed at the mention of his son. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a shaky breath. “I’m doing what’s best for him,” he muttered.
Ella’s lips curled into something almost smug, but she quickly masked it.
“Of course,” she murmured, her tone soothing, understanding. “You know what’s best.”
Marco gave a stiff nod, his anger still simmering beneath the surface.
Then, without another word, he walked away.
Ella watched him go, her hands folded neatly in front of her. She waited. And waited. Until he was completely out of sight.
She turned back to the closed door. And smiled. Finally. Carmen was gone. And this house? This family?
They were all hers now.