Carmen stood frozen on the cold pavement, her breath shallow, unsteady. The door was shut. Locked. Marco had really thrown her out.
Her own husband. The father of her child. The man who had once promised to love her through everything.
And now?
Now he had looked her in the eye and cast her out like she was nothing.
Carmen’s chest tightened painfully.
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
She wanted to scream, to cry, to pound on the door and beg Marco to listen. But what was the point? Nothing she said would change anything.
Because Marco didn’t believe her.
And worse? Ella had won. She had everything now. The house. Marco’s trust. Matteo. Carmen felt like the ground was crumbling beneath her feet. She had never felt this helpless, this abandoned, this alone.
She wrapped her arms around herself, her body shaking. For so long, she had been fighting. Trying to warn Marco. Trying to protect her son.
But she had failed. Matteo was in Ella’s hands now. A soft gust of wind blew through the night, making Carmen shiver. She could still see the warm lights inside the house.
The home she had built. The home she had been cast out of. Carmen let out a shaky breath, forcing herself to stand tall. She had a choice to make. She could stand here, broken, defeated, hopeless.
Or—
She could fight back. Carmen’s fingers curled into fists.
No. This wasn’t over. Not even close. Ella may have taken everything from her, but there was one thing she would never allow her to take permanently.
Matteo. Carmen lifted her chin, determination burning through the pain.
“You will not keep my son from me,” she whispered, her voice firm. “I will get him back.” And there was only one person who could help her now.