Chapter 140: One Week

ARYA’S POV

The car ride back was silent except for Dante's soft breathing. I kept my head down, my body language was defeated.

It wasn't hard to fake. I was defeated and trapped.

But beneath the fear, a plan was forming.

Marco wanted docile? I would give him docile.

I would be so compliant and sweet that he would stop watching me so closely.

And then… when he let his guard down for just a moment, I would find a way out.

I had to. For Dante’s sake.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly as we pulled into the parking garage.

Marco glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "What?"

"For almost… for what I almost did at the hospital." The words tasted like ash, but I forced them out. "You're right. You've been taking care of us. I shouldn't have and I'm sorry."

He was silent for a moment, possibly surprised.

"I know you are." His voice was softer. "I know you're just scared and confused. But you'll understand eventually. This is all for your own good."

I nodded, keeping my eyes downcast.

We parked and I followed him obediently to the apartment, Dante still sleeping in my arms. But when Marco unlocked the door, I heard voices inside.

Male voices.

Marco's hand shot out, stopping me from entering. "Wait here."

I shot him a look. "But…"

"I said wait." He disappeared inside, closing the door behind him.

I stood in the hallway, straining to hear. The voices were muffled, but I caught snippets.

“…. told you not to come here—"

"I had to see you!”

Who was in there? And what were they discussing?

Five minutes passed then ten. Dante stirred but didn't wake.

Finally, the door opened. A man stepped out, he was tall and dark-haired, with a scar across his cheek.

He looked at me with cold assessment, then smirked. "So this is her. Pretty little thing."

"Leave," Marco said from inside.

The man laughed but headed down the gate. I watched him go, my skin crawling.

"Get in here," Marco called.

I hurried inside, my heart pounding. Marco was in the living room, gathering papers into a folder.

"Go to your room," he said without looking at me. "I have things to handle."

"Who was that-"

"Your room. Now."

I nodded and fled upstairs, closing the door behind me with shaking hands.

Inside, I laid Dante carefully in his bassinet. He was sleeping peacefully now, the fever reducer from the hospital already working.

I pressed a kiss to his forehead, grateful beyond words that he was okay.

But we weren't okay. We were far from okay.

I waited, listening at the door. I could hear Marco moving around, making phone calls in rapid Italian.

Then I heard the front door open and close. Silence.

Had he left?

My heart pounding, I cracked open my bedroom door and peered out. The apartment was empty.

This was my chance.

I moved quickly to Marco's bedroom and it felt wrong being in here, but I pushed the feeling aside.

I need my phone. If I could just find it, then I could call for help and escape this nightmare.

I started with the nightstand then the drawers and finally the dresser. But there was nothing.

Where would he keep it?

The closet. I rifled through pockets of suits, checked shelves. There was no phone but I found something else.

A folder, tucked behind a stack of sweaters.

I pulled it out with trembling hands and opened it.

There were doocuments, contracts and email printouts. And at the top, a letter with a familiar logo.

Rivera Family Holdings.

My blood ran cold as I scanned the contents.

...continued cooperation in destabilizing the De Santis operations…

...additional compensation upon successful elimination of Giovanni De Santis…

No. No, this couldn't be real.

I flipped through more pages. Bank statements showing large deposits. Photos of Giovanni, his estate and  his men.

Marco was working with the Riveras. He had been working with them for over a year, according to these documents.

He orchestrated the attacks on Giovanni, stole the intelligence and blamed me.

That was why he suggested I meet him at that café, knowing it would be photographed, knowing it would look suspicious.

Every terrible thing that had happened to me. Marco had orchestrated all of it.

"Oh God," I breathed, my hands shaking so badly I almost dropped the folder.

The man I trusted. The man I thought was my friend since childhood.

He betrayed everyone, including my father. And now he had me trapped here while planning God knows what.

I kept searching, desperate to find my phone. But I found something else instead.

A small black, gun. And beside it, a box of ammunition with only two bullets left inside.

I stared at it for a long moment.

Then, before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed both the gun and the bullets, shoving them into the pocket of my sweater.

I had not used a gun in years, my aim would provavly be off.

But if it came down to it… I would do anything.

I hurried back to my room just as I heard the front door open.

My heart hammering, I shoved the gun under my mattress and scooped Dante from his bassinet, holding him close.

Marco appeared in my doorway moments later.

"Who was that man?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Marco studied me for a moment. "Someone I work with."

"What kind of work?"

"The kind that's going to get us out of this country." He leaned against the doorframe, casual. "We're leaving, Arya in one week. I've already arranged everything."

The floor dropped out from under me. "What?"

"We're going to South America. I have contacts there, a place set up.” He smiled. “We'll start over. A new life, just the three of us."

I shook my head but the word burst out. "”No!”

"It's not a discussion." His voice hardened. "The situation here has become... complicated. We need to disappear before…"

He stopped himself. "We're leaving in one week. Pack only what you need."

"Marco, please." I stood, still holding Dante. "Please don't do this. I don't want to leave the country. My family is here. Everything I know-"

"Your family doesn't want you," he said coldly. "They don’t even bother looking or asking after you. And Giovanni…"

His expression twisted with disgust. "He locked you in a dungeon and treated you like garbage. Why would you want to stay anywhere near them?"

"Because it's my home!" I snapped.

"I'm your home now." He moved toward me and I instinctively stepped back. "Me and Dante. That's your family."

My teeth ground together. "No!”

His hand shot out, wrapping around my throat.

"You should be grateful," he hissed, his face inches from mine. "That I'm even letting you keep the baby. I could have gotten rid of him months ago but I didn't. Because I love you and  I want us to be a family."

Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to breathe around the pressure on my throat.

"One week," Marco repeated. "Get used to the idea. Because whether you like it or not, you're coming with me."

He released me abruptly and I collapsed to the floor, gasping, still clutching Dante.

Marco looked down at me with something that might have been pity. "I'll have dinner brought in later. Try to rest."

Then he was gone, the lock clicking into place.

I sat there on the floor, shaking, Dante whimpering against my chest.

I had one week to escape before Marco took us to another country where I would have no hope of ever getting away.

My hand moved to the gun hidden under the mattress.

Marco was beyond salvation. The man I knew never really existed.

He was a monster wearing a familiar face and in one week, he was going to take us somewhere I could never escape from.

Unless I stopped him first.