Chapter 139: A Failure

ARYA’S POV

In the elevator, I held Dante close and tried not to think about how easily Marco lied. How convincing he was as the concerned husband and father.

I tried very hard not to think about how trapped I was.

We managed to find the pediatric wing and walked into the office.  Dr. Lombardi was a kind-looking man in his fifties with gentle hands and a warm smile.

"And who is this little one?" he asked, gesturing to Dante.

"This is Dante," I said quietly. "He's been running a fever since this morning. He's crying more than usual, barely eating and… I don’t know what to do."

He smiled softly, like he understood my struggle and my shoulders relaxed.

"Let's take a look." He took Dante carefully, his hands checking his temperature, examining ears, throat, and listening to his chest. "How old is he?"

I provided automatically. "Four weeks."

"And has he had any other symptoms?” He asked, looking up to stare at me. “Difficulty breathing? Unusual discharge?"

I answered his questions while Marco stood nearby, playing the part of concerned father so well it made me sick.

"Well, the good news is I don't see any signs of serious infection," Dr. Lombardi said after a thorough examination. "It appears to be a mild viral infection, it’s quite common in newborns. His temperature is high but not dangerously so."

I was so relieved, I didn’t know when a loud sigh left my throat. “So he's going to be okay?"

"He should be fine with rest and monitoring. I'll prescribe some infant fever reducer and give you instructions for care at home." He smiled. "You're doing a good job, Mama. Bringing him in was the right call."

Tears pricked my eyes. "Thank you."

As Dr. Lombardi wrote the prescription, Dante finally settled into sleep against my chest, his breathing evening out. I pressed a kiss to his head, overwhelmed with gratitude.

Marco's phone rang. He glanced at the screen, his expression darkening.

"I need to take this," he said. "I'll be right outside."

The moment he left the room, Dr. Lombardi's demeanor shifted slightly. He set down his pen and looked at me with concern.

"Are you alright, ma’am ?"

I blinked. "What?"

"I've been a doctor for thirty years. I know the signs." His voice was gentle but serious. "The way you flinch when your husband touches you. The bruise on your arm that you keep trying to hide. The fear in your eyes."

My hand instinctively went to my arm, where Marco had grabbed me last week. The bruise had faded but was still visible.

"I'm fine," I said automatically.

He didn’t look like he believed me. "Are you in an abusive relationship?"

The question hung in the air.

I opened my mouth, closed it then opened it again.

This was my chance. Right here, I could tell him everything and ask him to call the police.

I could finally escape this hellish nightmare.

"Ma’am," Dr. Lombardi leaned forward. "If you need help, I can-"

"Everything okay in here?"

Marco's voice cut through the moment like a knife.

He stood in the doorway, his smile pleasant but his eyes hard as they moved between me and the doctor.

"Just fine," Dr. Lombardi said smoothly, though I saw him glance at me with concern. "I was giving your wife some additional care instructions."

"Wonderful." Marco moved to my side, his hand on my shoulder. "We should get going. Let this good doctor get to his other patients."

"Of course." Dr. Lombardi handed me the prescription, and our eyes met for just a moment.

There was a question there. An offer of help.

But Marco's hand tightened on my shoulder, and I looked away.

"Thank you, Doctor," I managed.

"Take care of yourself," he said, and I knew he meant more than just Dante's health. "Both of you."

Marco ushered me out of the office, his hand never leaving my body, resting on the small of my back. To anyone watching, he looked like an attentive husband.

To me, he felt like a jailer.

We were halfway to the elevator when Marco leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear.

"I heard everything," he hissed. "Every word you were about to say to that doctor."

Ice flooded my veins. "I wasn't-"

"Don't lie to me." His fingers dug into my arm, making me wince. "You were going to tell him and ask for help. Did you really think I wouldn't be listening?"

I swallowed tightly. “Marco, you're hurting me. "

"This is nothing compared to what I'll do if you ever try that again." He pulled me into the elevator, and the doors closed, trapping us alone. "You're mine, Arya. And no doctor, no police, no one is going to take you away from me. Do you understand?"

Dante stirred in my arms, sensing my distress.

"I understand," I whispered, defeated.

"Good." Marco's expression shifted back to pleasant as the elevator doors opened on the ground floor. "Now smile. We're going home."

He took my arm again and as we walked through the lobby, I kept my head down, my arms around Dante.

I'd had a chance. Right there in Dr. Lombardi's office.

And I was too scared to take it.

"You're going to be punished when we get home," Marco said conversationally as he opened the car door. "For even thinking about betraying me."

I shook my head quickly. "I wasn't trying to-“

"Don't." His hand shot out, gripping my arm so hard I gasped. "Don't insult my intelligence. You know what you were about to do. And you know you're going to pay for it."

He released me abruptly, and I scrambled into the car, holding Dante protectively.

As Marco drove us back to the apartment, I stared out the window at the city passing by. All those people going about their lives, completely unaware that someone was screaming for help right beside them.

I had failed to protect myself and Dante.

The only thing I succeeded in doing was making Marco even more dangerous.

And as his hand found my knee, squeezing in what anyone else might think was affection but I knew was a threat, I realized the truth.

I was running out of chances and if I didn't find a way out soon, I might not get another one.