The only thing that matter

The only thing that matter
Marco

I froze the moment my eyes landed on one of the men stepping out of the SUV. Even though his head was slightly bowed and a black baseball cap shadowed half his face, he wasn’t fooling me.

Ismael Oregas.

Son of a bitch.

I had never seen him in person before, but I’d know that face anywhere. I’d memorized it. I’d stared at that photo too many times on Andy’s phone, lit up like a warning. I carved it into my memory alongside the fury I’d been nursing for weeks. He wasn’t going to get away with this. Not from me.

“Marco!” I heard Ashley scream, her voice slicing through the tension just as my heartbeat thundered in my chest. But this wasn’t fear. No, it was rage. Suspicion. A gut-deep certainty that they were planning something bigger than just this confrontation.

If they thought they could take Ashlyn from me that easily, they were dead wrong.

I wasn’t letting her go.

Suddenly, the other man came at me from the right and gripped my arm hard, so hard I could barely move. At the same time, Ismael charged forward, trying to rip Ashlyn from my arms.

No. I would never let go of my wife.

“Let her go!” he shouted, his voice hoarse and cracked with madness as he yanked at her, his grip tightening.

“Don’t fucking try me,” I spat through clenched teeth, twisting my body away to shield Ashlyn from him. My feet shuffled on the pavement, barely maintaining my balance as I tightened my arms around her trembling frame. I couldn’t lose control. I couldn’t let her get hurt.

The man beside me was hurting me now, digging his fingers into my bicep, but I refused to let go. I could take the pain, hell, I’d take a bullet if it meant keeping Ashlyn safe. I gritted my teeth, my whole body tensed as I fought to remain upright.

“Who the hell are you?!” I snarled at the man restraining me. “What the fuck are you doing?!” My chest heaved, not from fear, but from adrenaline and a fury I could barely contain.

“Let her go! She belongs with me!” Ismael screamed, his voice cracking with desperation and delusion. “Ashley is mine!”

Ashley?

What the hell?

My arms tightened around Ashlyn.

So that’s it. That’s why Ashley kept glancing around earlier; she wasn’t nervous about her sister. She was waiting for him.

They were in this together.

A chill of dread crawled up my spine. There were two of them, two grown men, and I was carrying Ashlyn in my arms. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t shield her completely. If they got past me, even for a second, they could snatch her away before I had a chance to stop it.

I couldn’t let that happen.

God, I hoped Sandro was seeing us right now. I prayed he saw this, prayed he knew I needed him. That my wife was in danger.

I shifted my weight and slammed my elbow into the ribs of the man gripping me. He let out a sharp grunt, loosening his hold. With my shoulder, I shoved the man back with everything I had. I wasn’t giving up. Not now. Not ever.

“If you want to leave here with your bones intact, I dare you, try again,” I growled, my voice cold and dark, every word vibrating with wrath. “But you’re not getting her. Even if you kill me, I won’t let go!”

“She doesn’t need you!” Ismael roared. And then, just like that, he pulled a knife from his jacket.

My blood turned cold.

The blade gleamed under the sunlight like a promise of pain. I swallowed hard.

But even then, even with death literally glinting inches away, I never once thought of setting Ashlyn down.

I cradled her closer, pressing her tightly against my chest, as if I could shield her from everything. My gaze locked on Ismael’s, and I swore to myself that I wouldn’t blink. I wouldn’t flinch.

Behind me, I felt movement. Ashley. She was stepping closer.

She was in on this. She had to be.

What kind of twin is she?

I didn’t know.

But I was certain of one thing: there’s only one woman in this world I call my wife.

And she’s the one I will protect. No matter what.

"Let go of Ashley! Who knows what that man might do to us!" the woman yelled as she finally reached us, her voice trembling with panic.

I heard the fear in her tone. It was raw and desperate. She was clearly determined to pull Ashlyn away from me. But despite her frantic plea, I didn't move. In fact, I held my wife even tighter in my arms, pressing her closer as if my grip alone could protect her from everything and everyone.

You can't fool me anymore.

"You know we need to take your twin to the hospital," I said firmly, my tone low and unrelenting. I didn't look at her; I kept my eyes locked on Ismael. "Why would you let a stranger take her? Do you even know who he is?"

At the same time, I elbowed the man gripping my arm. He staggered back, caught off guard. His hold slipped, just enough for me to regain my stance.

Ashley's eyes flicked up to meet mine. She shook her head quickly, panic flashing in her eyes. "No, I don't know him. But you're putting yourself in danger. Please, Marco…" Her voice was pleading, almost whispering now.

But her tears didn't move me. I had seen past the mask.

You won't manipulate me with those fake tears anymore.

I stared at her directly, unblinking. The warmth and tenderness that once radiated from my wife's eyes were gone. What I saw now was a hollow shell. Every word that fell from her lips dripped with poison, selfish, manipulative, and steeped in lies.

"No," I said through clenched teeth. "I won't let go. I don't care who you claim to be."

When I turned my gaze back to Ismael, I caught the way his eyes narrowed, and then he smiled. Not a friendly smile. It was one of triumph, of knowing. The kind of smile that sent a chill crawling down your spine.

"Your plan's ruined," Ismael said to her, his voice thick with mockery. "He knows."

I saw it, the way she froze, completely paralyzed. Her whole body went rigid, like a statue drenched in ice water. That was the moment it sank in for her. The charade was over.

"Please, Marco," she whispered, her voice barely audible now. "Don't let him hurt you because of her. You're more important to me than anything in this world."

My breath hitched.

I'm more important than she is?

No further proof was needed. The real Ashlyn, my Ashlyn, would never say that. Even if death stood just inches from her, she would still put the safety of the people she loved above herself. That's who she was.

I shook my head slowly, anger simmering beneath my skin. A storm was building in my chest. I wanted to yell. I wanted to ask how she could betray us like this, how she could wear my wife's face and speak such twisted words.

But Ismael spoke first.

He laughed, a slow, dark, almost inhuman laugh. Deep and taunting, like it had come from the depths of something unholy.

"Do you know how I could tell right away which one of you was the real Ashlyn?" he asked, taking slow, deliberate steps toward us. His gaze was locked onto the impostor, piercing and merciless. And for the first time, I saw fear flash in her eyes.

She swallowed hard. Her eyes darted away.

"Because of that attitude of yours," he continued coldly. "The real Ashlyn would never say something like that… Ashley."

Her body stiffened. I watched her eyes narrow, not with rage, but fear. Genuine, cold fear. She knew it now.

She'd been caught.

Ismael's smirk deepened as he looked at me, then flicked his gaze back to her. "You really are a fool if you thought Marco wouldn't notice the difference. Can't you see how hard he's fighting to protect the woman in his arms, even though you switched clothes with her?"

Ashley's head snapped toward me. Her expression shattered. The fear in her eyes wasn't for Ismael anymore.

It was for me.

For what I knew.

For what I finally understood.

Our eyes met. And suddenly, everything became clear. The once familiar face I had loved so deeply now looked like a distorted mask, a shallow imitation of someone I'd die for.

And I no longer needed a single explanation.

Calmly, with quiet conviction, I spoke.

"No matter what you do… You can't fool me anymore."

And then… silence.

Not the absence of sound, but that eerie stillness that happens when time itself seems to pause. As if the world was holding its breath. In my arms, Ashlyn stirred slightly. Her breath was faint, but steady, real. And more than anything that had been said or done… she was my truth.

My eyes stayed on her. My arms tightened protectively.

She was the only thing that mattered now.