The Double Life of My Pregnant Ex-Wife (Carmen and Marco) novel Chapter 16

Carmen sat across from Vincent in his study, her fingers tracing the edge of the envelope Sofia had given her. Vincent watched her carefully, his sharp eyes reading her thoughts before she could speak.

“You look troubled,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

Carmen exhaled slowly. “I have proof of Arianna’s dealings, but if I take it to Marco now, she’ll twist it against me. She always does.”

Vincent smirked faintly. “She’s good at that, isn’t she?”

“Too good,” Carmen replied bitterly.

Vincent steepled his fingers, his gaze steady. “There’s another way. We leak this to someone else—another family, a rival of Marco’s. Once her financial records are out there, they’ll tear her apart. She won’t be able to deny it.”

Carmen froze, her pulse quickening. “And what happens to Marco when they come for her? What happens to his empire?”

Vincent shrugged. “Marco will survive. You’re worried about him, Carmen, but you should be worried about yourself. If Arianna consolidates any more power, she won’t just stop at Marco. She’ll come for you. And the baby.”

Carmen looked away, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach. The thought made her chest tighten, but so did Vincent’s plan.

“Marco will think I’m behind it,” she murmured.

“Let him,” Vincent replied. “He’ll figure out the truth eventually, and by then, Arianna will be gone.”

Carmen shook her head slowly. “It’s not that simple.”

Vincent’s smile was cold. “It never is. But you don’t win wars by playing nice.”

Carmen stared at the envelope in front of her, torn between the truth she carried and the risk it posed. If she moved too soon, Arianna would destroy her. If she waited too long, Marco might be lost for good.

Her decision had to be the right one—because there was no room left for mistakes.

…

The light in Marco’s office was dim, the lamps casting a faint amber glow over the scattered papers on his desk. He leaned forward, elbows on the surface, rubbing his temples as Arianna stood near the window, her silhouette sharp against the pale moonlight. The day had worn him thin—whispers of betrayal, shadows of doubt—but Arianna’s voice was steady, a thin thread pulling him forward.

“I found something,” she said, her tone soft but insistent. “A lead on a De Luca shipment. It’s happening tonight.”

Marco lifted his head slowly, his tired eyes fixing on her. “And why haven’t I heard about this before?”

Arianna turned to face him, her expression the perfect mix of patience and urgency. “Because I only just confirmed it. You trust me, don’t you?”

Marco didn’t answer, but his silence stretched between them. Trust. The word carried too much weight now.

“They’ve gotten bold,” she continued, stepping closer. “Sofia and Enzo are using a dock just outside the city to move weapons—De Luca assets they’ve been stockpiling for weeks. If we intercept it, we’ll cripple their operations. But if we wait, they’ll disappear, and we’ll lose the chance.”

Marco narrowed his eyes, suspicion lingering just beneath the surface. “How do you know this?”

“Does it matter?” Arianna’s voice remained even, though a flicker of irritation flashed in her eyes. “What matters is you can’t let them get away with this. You need a win, Marco. Your men need to see that you’re still in control.”

Marco pushed back his chair and stood, pacing toward the window. He stared out at the darkened estate grounds, his reflection faint in the glass. It was true—things had been slipping. Whispers of doubt, lingering questions about Carmen’s departure, Luca’s growing silence. His men were loyal, but their faith was wearing thin, and Arianna knew exactly how to strike that nerve.

“It feels rushed,” he said finally, glancing back at her.