The Double Life of My Pregnant Ex-Wife (Carmen and Marco) novel Chapter 35

Carmen sat at the edge of the balcony that overlooked the sprawling gardens of the Venetti estate. The cool evening air bit at her skin, but she didn’t care. Her arms folded tightly across her chest, and her thoughts spiraled through the firestorm of Marco’s accusations.

“How do I know the baby is mine?”

The words echoed relentlessly in her mind, sharp enough to reopen every wound she thought had started to heal. Carmen pressed her knuckles against her mouth, fighting to hold herself together. It wasn’t the doubt in Marco’s voice that cut her the deepest—it was the fact that, after everything, he had let himself believe it. Arianna’s poison ran deep, and Marco had willingly swallowed every drop.

Her hand drifted protectively to her stomach as a surge of anger ignited in her chest. She wouldn’t let Arianna win. She wouldn’t let her destroy Marco—or the life she had fought so hard to protect. If Marco couldn’t see the truth, then she would find a way to bring it to light herself.

The faint sound of footsteps broke her focus, and she turned to see Luca approaching. His face, always calm and watchful, now carried a shadow of frustration.

“You look like hell,” Luca said quietly, stopping a few steps away.

“Funny,” Carmen replied bitterly. “I was just about to say the same about you.”

Luca smirked faintly, but it didn’t last. “You need to stop letting him tear you apart like this.”

Carmen exhaled sharply, turning back toward the garden. “It’s not that simple, Luca. He’s listening to her. He won’t stop until he destroys everything we’ve worked for—or until Arianna takes it all from him.”

“I know,” Luca replied, his voice steady but hard. “And you’re not wrong. But Marco’s not seeing clearly. If we wait for him to come around, it’ll be too late.”

Carmen looked at him sharply, her gaze narrowing. “What are you saying?”

Luca hesitated for a beat, then stepped closer. “I’m saying we don’t have to wait. Arianna’s got Marco blind, but she hasn’t won over everyone. Some of the men—Pietro, a few of the others—they’re starting to question her. They’re starting to question him.”

“And what does that mean for us?” Carmen asked quietly, her fingers gripping the railing.

“It means we can start building our own power,” Luca said, his voice low and deliberate. “If Marco won’t listen, we’ll give him no choice. Arianna’s playing him like a puppet, but she can’t survive without his allies backing her. If we start turning his people against her—against both of them—we might have a shot at saving what’s left.”

Carmen stared at Luca, her heart pounding at the weight of what he was suggesting. It was a dangerous move—pushing Marco’s disillusioned allies to her side. It felt like betrayal, even if her intentions were to save him.

“And if Marco sees this as treason?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Luca met her gaze, unflinching. “Then he’s already lost.”

Carmen looked away, her jaw tight as her thoughts swirled. Luca was right. She could sit back and let Arianna finish what she’d started, or she could fight. For Marco. For herself. For their child.

“Fine,” she said finally, her voice firm. “Find Pietro. Talk to the others. I want to know exactly how many of Marco’s allies are willing to listen.”

Luca nodded once, a flicker of relief in his expression. “I’ll take care of it.”

As he turned to leave, Carmen’s gaze drifted back toward the darkened gardens, her voice carrying quietly into the night. “This ends with her, Luca. One way or another.”

________________

In the days that followed, Arianna’s presence seemed to spread like a stain across the estate. Carmen felt it everywhere—in the whispers of the guards, in the furtive glances of the advisors who no longer looked her in the eye. She knew Arianna was making her moves, but the scale of it became clear only when Luca delivered the news.

“She’s got new records,” Luca said grimly as he paced Carmen’s sitting room, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Letters. Communications. They’re all falsified, but they look real. She’s showing them to Marco.”

Carmen frowned, her stomach twisting. “What kind of records?”

“Letters between you and Vincent,” Luca replied darkly. “Conversations that make it look like the two of you were planning to move against Marco while you were gone. That the baby… isn’t his.”

Carmen’s blood ran cold. “She’s trying to twist everything.”

“She’s not trying. She’s succeeding,” Luca muttered, stopping to face her. “He’s buying it, Carmen. Or at least, he’s not pushing back against it.”

Carmen sank onto the edge of the couch, her mind reeling. “How could he believe her?”

“Because he’s angry. Hurt,” Luca said simply. “She knows how to use it against him.”