The Double Life of My Pregnant Ex-Wife (Carmen and Marco) novel Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The question struck like lightning, leaving the room in tense silence. Marco’s hesitation, though brief, was like a dagger to Carmen’s heart.

“You’re out of your mind,” he said finally, his tone defensive. “This isn’t about her—it’s about the business. But you can’t separate the two, can you?”

Carmen’s anger flared again. “Don’t you dare turn this on me, Marco. I’ve stood by you through everything—your mistakes, your fights, your messes. And now you’re throwing it all away for her.”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Marco snapped. “I’m doing what needs to be done. If you can’t see that, maybe you’re the one who’s not thinking clearly.”

Carmen’s voice turned icy. “Then let me make it clear for you, Marco. Either she goes, or I do.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Marco said, though his voice wavered slightly.

“Am I?” Carmen’s eyes flashed. “Because I’m done standing by while you let her worm her way into our lives. If you can’t let her go, then you’ve already made your choice.”

She turned to leave, her footsteps heavy with determination.

“Carmen!” Marco called after her, his tone softer but still tense.

She paused at the door, glancing back at him. Her voice was quiet but firm. “If she’s still here tomorrow, I won’t be.”

Without waiting for a response, she walked out, the door closing behind her with a decisive click.

Marco stood alone in the study, his jaw clenched and his thoughts swirling. The folder lay open on the desk, the evidence staring back at him. For the first time, doubt began to creep into his mind.

…

The drive to Arianna’s estate was as silent as it was tense. Marco sat in the back seat of his car, staring out the window as the city lights gave way to the quiet opulence of her neighborhood. His driver barely glanced at him as they approached the gates of the sprawling property. The estate was as grand as he remembered, its ivy-covered façade exuding elegance and menace in equal measure.

Marco stepped out of the car, his expression unreadable as a servant greeted him and escorted him inside. The air inside the estate was warm, the faint scent of lavender mingling with the polished wood and expensive leather furnishings. Arianna waited for him in the sitting room, reclining on a velvet settee with a glass of wine in her hand. She rose when he entered, her red dress clinging to her like a second skin.

“Marco,” she greeted, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Always a pleasure.”

“Arianna,” he replied curtly, his tone devoid of warmth. “Let’s get to it.”

She gestured toward a nearby chair, her movements graceful, calculated. “Always so businesslike. Sit. Let’s talk.”

Marco lowered himself into the chair, his posture guarded. “What do you have for me?”