Chapter 133 The Wrong Reason
ARYA’S POV
I woke up to pain radiating through my shoulder from where I had hit the floor.
For a disoriented moment, I didn't know where I was or what had happened. I blinked, slowly taking everything in and it all came rushing back.
The argument with Marco and his hands on me, pushing me. The door slamming and the lock clicking shut.
I was on the floor of my bedroom, still in yesterday's clothes, my body stiff from sleeping on the hardwood.
Dante.
Panic seized me as I scrambled upright, my head spinning from the sudden movement.
But he was still in his bassinet by the bed, sleeping peacefully, completely unaware that his mother had passed out on the floor.
Thank God. Thank God he was okay.
I pushed myself to standing, using the bed for support, and stumbled to the door.
It was still locked.
"Marco!" I pounded on the wood, my voice hoarse. "Marco, let me out! Please!"
There was no response. .
I hit the door harder, again and again until my palms stung. "MARCO! You can't do this! Let me out!"
Silence answered me.
Behind me, Dante began to cry. It was soft at first, then building to the full-throated wail that meant he was hungry and confused about why I wasn't immediately responding.
"It's okay, baby." I moved to the bassinet, lifting him carefully. "Shh, it's okay. Mama's here."
But he wouldn't settle. He fussed and squirmed, his cries intensifying, and I realized with growing horror that I had no idea what time it was or how long I had been unconscious.
How long had he been crying before I woke up?
"Please, Dante. Please, sweet boy." I tried to nurse him, but he was too worked up, turning his head away, his little face red with distress. "Please, I'm trying."
The lock clicked.
I spun toward the door as it opened, my heart hammering with hope and terror in equal measure.
Marco stepped inside carrying a tray of toast, fruit, and orange juice.
"Good morning," he said gently, setting the tray on the dresser. "I thought you might be hungry. You didn't eat anything last night."
My body stiffened. Why was he acting like nothing happened last night?
"Marco, please." I held Dante closer, his cries still echoing through the room. "You have to let me out. You can't keep me locked in here."
He looked at me then. "I'm not keeping you locked in." Hus voive was soft and I nearly recoiled. "I'm keeping you safe. There's a difference."
"Safe from what?"
"From making bad decisions." He moved closer, and I instinctively stepped back. "You were going to leave last night, Arya. Take Dante and go God knows where. I couldn't let that happen."
"Because you don't own me!" The words burst out. "I'm not yours to lock up whenever you feel like it!"
He snorted and rolled his eyes. "I'm protecting you."
"You're controlling me!" Dante's cries grew louder, feeding off my agitation and I quickly dropped him back on the bassinet. "Please, Marco. Please just let us go.”
"And then what? Go back to that hostel? Live on the streets?" Marco's expression hardened slightly. "I've given you everything. And you want to throw it all away because of what? Pride?"
My body was trembling. "Because this is wrong!" I was shouting now, and Dante was wailing. "Keeping me here against my will is wrong!"
The slap came out of nowhere.
My head snapped to the side, pain exploding across my cheek. I stumbled backward, one hand flying to my face.
"Why are you so stubborn?" Marco's voice shook with frustration. "I'm trying to take care of you! Why can't you just…"
He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair. "Cherry was going to take you away from me. She was always in your head, and I knew she would make you think you didn't need me."
The words took a moment to register. "What?"
"I had to send her away." He said it matter-of-factly, like he was discussing the weather. "I paid her to stay in Milan and her if she really cared about you, she'd give you space to build a life with me."
Horror washed over me in waves. "You… Cherry didn't abandon me. You paid her!"
"I protected you from someone who was keeping us apart." Marco moved closer, and I pressed myself against the wall. "Don't you see? Everyone in your life has hurt you. Your father, Giovanni, even Cherry who pretended to be your friend but was really just-"
"She was my friend!" I was sobbing now. "She was the only real friend I had, and you took her away!”
"Because I love you!" The words came out as a roar. "Because I've loved you since we were children, and I've watched you give yourself to men who didn't deserve you, and I couldn't stand it anymore!"
He was breathing hard, his face flushed with emotion that looked nothing like the love he kept claiming to feel.
This was possession.
"Marco, please." I tried one more time. "Please let me go. I won't tell anyone. I'll just leave and you'll never have to see me again."
"That's not happening." His voice was calm again, which was somehow worse. "You're staying here with me. And eventually, you'll understand that this is what's best for you."
He walked to the door and slammed it, the lock clicking into place behind him.
I stood frozen for a moment, my cheek still stinging. Then my legs gave out and I sank to the floor, my back against the wall.
Everything I had believed about Cherry abandoning me had all been a lie.
How long had he been planning this? How many other things had he orchestrated without me knowing?
Dante's cries had softened to exhausted whimpers. I forced myself up and went to him, lifting him with shaking hands.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered, finally getting him to latch on my breasts. "I'm so, so sorry, baby."
I don't know how long I sat there, Dante sleeping in my arms, and my mind spinning through everything that had happened.
Finally, survival instinct kicked in.
I needed to escape before Marco's obsession turned into something even worse.
I laid Dante carefully in the bassinet and went to the window. We were on the second and although it was not impossibly high, but high enough that jumping with a baby would be suicide.
The window itself was locked from the outside.
I checked the door again but it was solid wood and amount of throwing my weight against it would break it down.
Think, Arya. Think.
My stomach growled, a sharp reminder that I hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon. The tray of food Marco had brought sat on the dresser, untouched.
I should refuse it and make a statement.
But that would only hurt me and Dante. And I needed strength if I was going to find a way out of here.
Hating myself, I picked up the toast and took a bite.
Dante cooed softly from his bassinet, and I looked over at him. He was depending entirely on me to keep him safe and I had led him right into the hands of someone dangerous.
"I'm sorry," I whispered again, tears sliding down my cheeks. "I'm so useless. I'm so, so sorry."