“Don’t go yet,” he said, pulling me slightly back. “Come upstairs with me. Just for a bit.”

There was no room in his tone for refusal, only expectation.

And I followed because that was what I always did.

The rooftop was already waiting when we arrived.

The cold wind hit first, sharp enough to burn my lungs. Below, the city stretched out in dull lights and distance, but above us, something new had been set up.

Drones.

Dozens of them hovering in formation against the night sky, blinking red and white in perfect lines, waiting for a signal.

Darius stood behind me, his arm resting around my shoulders.

“Verona organized this. Some bullshit apology thing. She called in favors, and used company resources. I can’t just fire her for that.” Then he added, softer. “She knows she crossed a line earlier. This is her way of fixing it.”

My stomach twisted.

Fixing it.

“You said once you wanted something different,” he said. “Something you could remember. I remember shit like that, Marianne.”

Then the drones above us shifted slightly, lights flickering out of sync for a heartbeat.

Verona’s voice came from the control station nearby. “Mr. Davenport, I’m starting the sequence now.”

Darius nodded. “Do it.”

The sky lit up.

At first it was controlled, precise patterns forming shapes above the city. Letters, hearts, shifting designs that were meant to look beautiful.

Then one of the drones sparked. A sharp crack cut through the air.

Another followed and within seconds, the formation broke.

Lights scattered out of rhythm, drones losing control, dipping too low, veering sideways. Metal started falling from the sky in sudden violent drops.

Something brushed past my arm.

Hot.

Too hot!

I flinched back instinctively.

“Fuck,” Darius muttered, stepping forward. “What the hell is happening?”

Another drone slammed into the rooftop structure, exploding in a burst of heat and light. The shockwave threw me off balance.

I hit the ground hard.

Pain shot through my arm immediately, sharp enough to steal my breath. I tried to move, but something else burned past my shoulder, tearing heat across my skin. Not a small burn but a real fire contact!

My clothes caught for a second before I managed to roll, smothering it with my hands, my skin screaming under the pressure.

“Darius!” I shouted, voice breaking. “I'm burning! Help me!"

Smoke filled the air now, thick and suffocating.

Footsteps came closer.

I thought he was coming for me. I reached out blindly, fingers shaking, grabbing the only thing I could feel.

“Is that you?” I whispered, clinging to it. “Darius, please… I can’t move. Don’t leave me here.”

For a second, he stopped, then he pulled his leg free.

“Marianne, Verona got hit. She’s down,” he said. “I’m taking her out first. Find your way down. I’ll come back for you, okay? Crawl if you have to.”

“No! Darius, I can’t fully see anything. I’m burned, I don’t know where to go…”

But he was already moving away.

The heat around me grew stronger.

Fire somewhere nearby had spread across part of the rooftop structure, crawling closer in waves of orange and white. My skin felt like it was being pulled apart by the air itself.

I forced myself to move anyway, dragging my body toward what I thought was the exit. One step then another. My foot slipped on debris I couldn’t see and the world tilted without warning.

I fell.

…

The first thing I felt when I opened my eyes was pain.

A deep, relentless burn stretched from my shoulder down my arm and across the side of my neck. Even breathing tugged at damaged skin. The faint smell of scorched hair lingered around me, and every small movement dragged me back to that rooftop.

A thick bandage covered part of my shoulder and collarbone.

Instinctively, I raised a hand toward it.

Someone caught my wrist before I could touch it.

"Marianne, you're awake. How are you feeling? Does it still hurt?" Darius immediately leaned forward. "Do you need me to call the doctor? Your fever was high all night and you wouldn't wake up. You scared the hell out of me."

The concern in his voice came too quickly.

A few weeks ago, hearing him sound like that might have broken me. Now? It only exhausted me.

I pulled my hand from his grasp.

"GET OUT."

He exhaled slowly and rubbed his jaw.

"You're angry because I didn't save you first, aren't you?" His voice lowered as he watched me carefully. "That's what this is about, right?"

I stared at the white hospital ceiling. I didn't answer.

"Marianne, listen to me." He leaned forward again, urgency creeping into his voice. "Verona had already passed out. The drones were falling everywhere and pieces of them were crashing down around us. She wasn't moving, and if I left her there, she could've died."

His fingers tightened around the edge of the bed.

"I got her downstairs and handed her over to the emergency team. After that I came back immediately." He paused, and for the first time his voice cracked. "But when I found you... fuck, Marianne. You were already unconscious."

I closed my eyes.

Such a perfect explanation.

The only problem was that I knew it wasn't true.

He hadn't come back.

Not when I begged him, not when I couldn't move, not when my skin was burning and I thought I was going to die.

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and nodded once.

"Okay. I understand."

For some reason, that seemed to bother him more than any argument ever could.

His hand closed around mine again. "Marianne." His voice dropped lower. "Don't do this. Don't sit there acting like everything's fine when it obviously isn't."

I almost laughed. Do what? Believe my own eyes?

"Don't be angry, baby." He squeezed my fingers harder. "I already handled the people responsible for what happened. The idiots who supplied those drones are finished. They'll never work in this city again, and I made sure of it personally."

Of course he did. A man like Darius Davenport could ruin lives with a single phone call. Yet somehow Verona always remained untouched.

"I swear nobody's ever going to hurt you again," he continued quietly. "Not them. Not anyone. I'll make sure of that."

A bitter smile touched my lips. What a ridiculous promise.

Slowly, I pulled my hand away.

"Darius, I'm tired."

His expression darkened immediately.

I had rejected him again and Darius Davenport was not a man accustomed to rejection.

"For fuck's sake, Marianne!" Impatience slipped into his voice as he stood. "I already explained everything. What else do you want me to say?! Fuck, fucking fuck! I dealt with the people responsible. I fixed the problem. If you're still unhappy, then tell the fuck exactly what you want from me."

Something inside me finally snapped.

Ignoring the pain tearing through my shoulder, I forced myself upright.

"Darius." My voice trembled, not from fear but from rage. "You really want to know what I want?"

The room became completely still.

I looked directly at him.

"Verona caused it! She's the reason all of this happened." My chest rose and fell heavily. "So send her to prison too. Destroy her life the same way you destroy everyone else's whenever they cross you."

A bitter laugh escaped me.

"Can you do that? Can you punish her the way you'd punish anyone else?"

Darius rubbed the back of his neck, genuine confusion written across his face.

"So that's what this is about?" His brows drew together. "Marianne, as far as I know, anyone could've gotten hurt in that situation. It was an accident. What exactly does that have to do with Verona?"

I stared at him.

And suddenly, I felt tired beyond words.

How could I explain something to someone who didn't want to understand? How could I compete with a woman he kept choosing over and over again?

I didn't have the strength anymore.

"You're right." I nodded slowly. "I was being petty. That's obviously the problem here." The words tasted like poison. "Happy now?"

Darius opened his mouth but nothing came out.

For the first time since I'd known him, he looked completely lost.

He kept staring at me as though something important was slipping through his fingers, something he couldn't identify no matter how hard he tried.

But he was too late. I pulled the blanket higher and turned onto my side. The movement pulled painfully at the burns beneath the bandages, but I barely reacted.

Behind me, Darius remained standing there for a long time.

Finally, he spoke.

"Marianne, that's not what I meant. You know that's not what I meant."

I didn't answer.

A moment later, he stepped closer and adjusted the blanket where it had slipped from my shoulder. Once, that small gesture would've meant everything to me. Now it felt hollow.

"Get some rest." His voice softened again. "I've got work to deal with, but I'll come back as soon as I'm done. We'll talk when you're feeling better." Then he left, and almost immediately, my phone began to ring.

"The arrangements are set for next week."

Mrs. Davenport's cold voice came through the phone.

"When the time comes, leave immediately. Don't play games with me, Marianne. If I find out you're trying anything clever, I won't be as patient as I was two years ago."

A quiet laugh escaped me.

"You don't have to worry. I'll leave exactly as promised.”

"Good."

"Frankly, this is the smartest decision you've made in years."

My grip tightened around the phone.

"You couldn't even save your own child. Lara died right under your nose, and there was nothing you could do about it. Do you know how pathetic that is?"

The words hit like a knife driven straight into an old wound.

I closed my eyes.

Even now, hearing Lara's name felt like having my heart torn open all over again.

"Mrs. Davenport—"

"No. Listen to me." Her voice hardened further. "You and Darius should've divorced a long time ago. Faking your death and disappearing is the right thing to do. At least this way, my son can finally move on and marry the woman he actually belongs with. I like Verona far more than I ever liked you."

"Then congratulations, Mrs. Davenport." My voice came out surprisingly calm. "You'll finally get the daughter-in-law you've always wanted."

She fell silent.

“Once I'm gone, neither you nor Darius will ever see me again.

And before she could respond, I ended the call.

"What do you mean nobody's ever going to see you again?"

The voice behind me made my heart nearly stop.

I looked up and found Darius standing in the doorway. His dark eyes were fixed on me, and from the expression on his face, it was obvious he had heard enough. I immediately ended the call, but the damage was already done.

"It's nothing," I said. "Just a friend."

Darius stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "A friend? That's a pretty strange conversation to have with a friend. Usually when people start talking about never seeing each other again, something a lot bigger is going on."

"They were ending the friendship. Apparently we had a disagreement and now we're supposed to pretend the other person doesn't exist anymore. It was dramatic, but that's all it was."

He stared at me for several long seconds, clearly unconvinced. For a moment, I thought he would keep questioning me, but instead he shook his head and dropped the subject.

"Whatever. Just stay away from people who make you upset. You already have enough to deal with right now."

He tossed his phone onto the bedside table and sat beside me. His hand brushed against mine naturally, almost absentmindedly, but I quietly moved my fingers away before he could hold on.

The movement was small, yet I still saw the change in his expression. Something dark flashed through his eyes before disappearing so quickly that someone else might have missed it.

...

The next five days felt suffocating.

Darius barely left the hospital room. He handled company meetings through video calls, barked orders at executives, threatened people from La Serpienten over the phone, and somehow still found time to keep track of every medication the nurses gave me. Sometimes I would wake up during the night and find him sitting beside the bed, watching me with an intensity that made my chest feel heavy.

Five years ago, I would have mistaken that look for devotion.

Now I wasn't sure what it meant anymore.

Every conversation between us ended in silence. Every touch felt forced. The colder I became, the more restless Darius seemed. I noticed it in the way he paced around the room, the way his eyes kept drifting toward me, and the way his patience grew thinner every day. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't seem to figure out what it was.

The day I was discharged, he never showed up.

There were no calls, no messages, and no explanation.

I wasn't surprised.

After completing the paperwork myself, I left the hospital and went straight to my lawyer's office. There, I handed over the divorce agreement and signed the authorization documents that would allow him to proceed even if I wasn't present. Once that was finished, I returned to the villa and began packing.

There wasn't much I wanted to take with me. Most of what filled the villa belonged to a life I no longer wanted. In the end, I packed only a few clothes, my parents' belongings, several albums of Lara, and her precious urn.

The villa felt strangely empty as I moved from room to room.

Maybe because I already knew I was never coming back.

I had just finished sealing the final box when the bedroom door slammed open hard enough to crash against the wall.

I turned sharply.

Darius stormed into the room.

His face was terrifying. Without saying a word, he crossed the room and grabbed my wrist.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Have you completely lost your mind?"

I stared at him in confusion. "What are you talking about? What happened?"

His grip tightened. "You're still pretending you don't know? Even now you're going to stand there and act innocent?"

Before I could react, he threw a stack of photographs against my chest. They scattered across the floor between us.

"Tell me something, Marianne. When exactly did you become this fucking vicious?"

I looked down and immediately understood.

The photographs were all of Verona.

Some showed her being dragged into a vehicle. Others appeared to have been taken during the week she spent in captivity. The later photographs were worse. Bruises covered her skin, a brand had been burned into her shoulder, and the fear in her eyes was impossible to miss. The entire story was laid out in front of me without anyone needing to explain it.

A cold feeling settled inside my chest.

Not because of what had happened to Verona.

Because I already knew where this conversation was heading.

"Darius... Are you accusing me?"

His jaw tightened immediately. "Who else would I accuse? Give me one reason to suspect somebody else."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

“Verona left that life five years ago. She's stayed clean ever since, and nobody has dared touch her, especially not after she had her son, Carson. But suddenly, someone grabs her in broad daylight and does all this to her? Tell me, Marianne, who else could have a motive besides you?”

For a moment, I simply stared at him.

Trying to understand how we had ended up here.

Trying to understand how the same man who once crossed continents looking for me could stand in front of me now and look at me like a criminal.

"Darius..." A quiet laugh escaped me. "You really believe I did this? After everything that's happened between us, that's honestly what you think of me?"

"Don't fucking play games with me! I know you're angry our daughter died during surgery! And I know how much you hate Verona. Stop pretending otherwise."

My eyes burned.

Before I could stop myself, my hand flew across his face.

SLAP!

The crack echoed through the bedroom.

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

My palm stung from the impact, and the pain traveled all the way up my arm. I slowly curled my fingers into a fist and forced myself to breathe through the tightness in my chest before finally finding my voice.

"Darius, do you have any idea how shameless you're being right now? You can believe whatever story makes you feel better, but this has absolutely nothing to do with me. Not a single part of it."

A bitter laugh escaped me as I wiped at my eyes.

The moment the words left my mouth, I crouched down and began gathering my daughter's belongings from the floor.

A pink hair clip.

A stuffed rabbit.

A tiny sweater she would never wear again.

The sight nearly shattered me.

I didn't want to stay in the same room as him anymore. I didn't want to look at him, and I certainly didn't want to hear another accusation.

Before I could stand, his hand clamped around my wrist.

Pain shot through my injured arm instantly.

"Fine," Darius said through clenched teeth. "Let's forget feelings for a second and talk about facts. You got discharged from the hospital today, so explain something to me. Why didn't you come straight home?"

I frowned.

"What are you talking about? I went exactly where I needed to go."

His expression darkened.

"Then why were you at an apartment complex in Brooklyn? You've never been there before, Marianne. Never. Yet somehow you show up there on the same day Verona gets taken."

For a moment, I didn't understand.

Then it clicked.

The lawyer's office.

He was talking about the lawyer's office.

Unfortunately, my silence only convinced him further.

"Verona was unconscious when they brought her in," Darius continued, his voice rough with anger. "Do you know what she kept saying? Even after everything she'd been through, she was still begging you to let her go."

He stepped closer.

"Marianne, you know what kind of life she came from. Even if you hate her, how could you do something like this? How could you be this cruel? You're a mother too. Verona has a son. What would her son think of you for hurting her?"

For a second, I couldn't speak.

My daughter was dead.

Dead.

Yet somehow everyone kept asking me to think about Verona's child.

Nobody seemed to remember that I had just buried my own.

I almost laughed.

"Darius, listen to yourself. Just listen to what you're saying right now."

He either couldn't hear it or refused to.

His fingers dug deeper into my wrist.

"You owe her an apology. You owe her an explanation for what happened."

Something inside me cracked completely.

I yanked against his grip.

"Darius, I didn't do it. I didn't touch her, I didn't hire anybody, and I didn't even know where she was. Did it ever occur to you that somebody else could be responsible?" The words came out before I could stop them. "Did it ever occur to you that she might have arranged this herself?"

"Fuck, Marianne! Do you hear yourself right now? You're actually suggesting she'd destroy herself for attention? You're seriously standing here trying to convince me that's what happened?"

Darius dragged a hand through his hair and looked away before turning back to me.

"When did you become this person? When did you get so bitter that you'd say something like that about another woman?"

I stared at him in disbelief.

"You grew up with nothing, Marianne. You know what it's like to be looked down on. You know what it's like to be powerless and have people judge you without giving you a chance."

His voice rose with every sentence.

"And now you've spent five years living as Mrs. Davenport and somehow you've forgotten all of that. You've forgotten exactly what it feels like to be the person nobody believes."

I felt something cold settle in my chest.

"Forgotten what?"

"Forgotten where you came from. You're still just a fucking orphan, Marianne."

The room went silent.

For a second, I couldn't breathe.

Darius looked away first, as if part of him already regretted saying it.

But the damage was done.

"Maybe my mom was right," he said quietly. "Maybe you really are cursed. Maybe everyone around you gets hurt eventually, including our daughter Lara."

The world seemed to tilt beneath my feet.

Those words followed me throughout my entire childhood.

After my parents died, relatives abandoned me. I spent years believing I destroyed everything I touched.

The night I almost gave up on my life, it was Darius who found me.

I still remembered him sitting beside me in the rain.

I still remembered him wiping away my tears.

I still remembered his voice.

"People die because life is unfair, Marianne. Not because you're cursed."

Back then, he had saved me.

Now he was the one pushing me back into that darkness.

Tears streamed down my face.

This time I couldn't stop them.

I looked at him and saw a stranger wearing the face of the man I used to love.

"So that's who I am to you now."

My voice trembled.

"A jealous woman who would ruin someone's life for revenge. A vicious woman capable of anything as long as she's angry enough."

Darius opened his mouth.

I didn't let him speak.

"No. I won't apologize for something I didn't do. Whether Verona lives or dies has nothing to do with me."

My throat tightened painfully.

"And from today forward..."

My voice broke despite my efforts.

"...the same goes for you."

For the first time since entering the room, Darius looked genuinely stunned.

I used all my strength to rip my wrist from his grasp.

Then I wiped the tears from my face, picked up my bag, and walked toward the front door.

I grabbed the handle.

"Since you're so damn stubborn, Marianne, don't blame me for what happens next."

The moment I tried to leave, Darius's men stopped me.

I barely made it through the side exit before two bodyguards caught up to me.

One grabbed each arm and dragged me back despite my struggles.

"Darius, let me go!" I shouted. "Stop this before it goes too far."

Neither bodyguard responded.

They pulled me through the private floors of La Serpienten's headquarters and into one of the underground meeting rooms.

I had only heard stories about this place before.

It was where major deals were negotiated, punishments were decided, and people disappeared without anyone daring to ask questions afterward.

The room was crowded with capos, enforcers, business partners, and other men who held power simply because everyone else feared them.

Conversations died the moment I was dragged inside.

My eyes immediately searched the room for Darius.

I found him sitting at the head of the table.

Verona sat beside him with one hand resting comfortably on his arm, as if that position belonged to her.

The sight made my stomach turn.

My daughter's funeral flowers had not even wilted yet.

Yet here they were.

Looking more like a family than Darius and I had in months.

"Darius, please listen to me," I said, trying to pull free from the guards. "You know me better than anyone. You know I wouldn't do something like this."

For a moment, I thought he might actually look at me.

Instead, he lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair.

"This woman still refuses to admit what she did," Darius said calmly as he looked around the room. "I've given her multiple opportunities to tell the truth, but she insists on pretending she's innocent."

Several men exchanged looks.

A few laughed quietly.

Verona lowered her gaze.

"Darius, maybe we should let it go," she said softly. "I'm worried this will only make Marianne hate me more. To be honest, I'm already scared enough as it is."

The reaction was immediate.

One man snorted.

Another shook his head.

"Scared of her? Boss has protected her for years."

"She's had a better life than most people in this city."

"She doesn't know how lucky she is."

Laughter spread through the room.