The Double Life of My Pregnant Ex-Wife (Carmen and Marco) novel Chapter 67

The explosion lit up the night sky, a fiery plume stretching high above the trees. The thunderous sound echoed through the valley, a signal of the Venettis’ success—but also of the destruction it had wrought. Marco and Carmen stood at the extraction point, catching their breath as their men regrouped. The adrenaline from the firefight still coursed through their veins, but the heavy silence that followed was unsettling.

Marco scanned the faces of their returning allies, a frown forming as he noticed the absence of one. “Where’s Montini?”

A young guard approached, blood staining the sleeve of his jacket. “He’s hurt, boss. We’re bringing him now.”

Marco’s jaw tightened as two men carried Sergio Montini into view, his body limp between them. Blood soaked his side, and his face was pale, a sheen of sweat glistening under the moonlight.

“Sergio,” Marco said, rushing to his side.

Sergio coughed weakly, his eyes fluttering open. “Guess I’m not as quick as I used to be,” he muttered, his voice strained.

“You’re going to be fine,” Marco said, his tone firm as if willing it to be true. He gestured to the medics. “Get him in the car. Now.”

The medics moved swiftly, loading Sergio into the back of a vehicle. Carmen stepped beside Marco, her expression grim.

“We need to get him back to the estate,” she said quietly.

Marco nodded, his gaze lingering on the blood-soaked ground. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“It’s war, Marco,” Carmen said, her voice tinged with both empathy and resolve. “Every victory comes with a price.”

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Back at the estate, the mood was somber as Sergio was carried to the infirmary. Carmen stayed close, overseeing the medics as they worked to stabilize him. Marco, meanwhile, paced the hallway outside, his frustration and guilt evident in every step.

When Carmen emerged, her expression was a mixture of exhaustion and reassurance.

“He’s stable,” she said. “But it’s going to be a long recovery.”

Marco exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time.

“None of this is supposed to happen,” Carmen said gently. “But it does. And we keep going.”

Marco looked at her, his eyes searching hers. “How do you do it? Stay so steady through all this?”

Carmen placed a hand on his arm, her touch grounding. “Because I have to. For you, for our son, for everyone who’s counting on us. We can’t afford to fall apart.”

Marco nodded, his resolve hardening. “You’re right. We’ll make this count.”

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The next day, Alessandra sat in the study, her fingers drumming nervously on the armrest of her chair. Carmen entered first, followed by Marco, whose expression remained unreadable.

“You did it,” Alessandra said, her voice filled with equal parts awe and fear. “The cache is gone. That’s going to hurt them.”

“It was the point,” Marco said curtly, taking a seat across from her.