Marco's face changes instantly. "What exactly did she say?" His voice is low, stern.
I swallow hard, my heart racing. "She offered me a job. Said she wanted to bring down your family, that you were corrupt. She mentioned something about witnesses disappearing and suspicious deaths."
Marco's jaw clenches, and I see a muscle twitch in his cheek. He takes a step closer to me, his presence suddenly overwhelming.
"And you're considering it." It's not a question.
"What? No! That's why I'm telling you about it." My voice rises. "I wanted to be honest with you."
Marco scoffs. "And I'm supposed to believe that? That you didn't even consider it for a moment?"
"Yes, you are supposed to believe me!" I snap back, my temper flaring. "Because it's the truth!"
"Let me make something very clear, baby." The endearment sounds like a threat now. "If you ever thought about betraying me, about switching sides..." He trails off, letting the silence fill with unspoken menace.
My breath quickens with rage at the thinly veiled threat. "Are you threatening me?"
"I'm stating a fact," he says, his voice ice-cold.
I feel tears of frustration and anger pricking at my eyes. "I can't believe this. I came to you, told you about it because I thought we were in this together. And this is how you react?"
"How else am I supposed to react?" Marco snarls. "When my fiancée tells me she's meeting with my enemy?"
"Fake fiancée, for starters, and not acting like a psychopath would be nice," I shout, crossing my arms, "More like someone who trusts me! I didn't plan on any of this, Marco. I didn't ask for Sandra to approach me. I didn't ask to be put in this position!"
Tears sting my eyes, and I don't finish. Marco immediately relaxes. "Alina," he says, reaching out to touch my arm.
I jerk away from his touch. "Shit, two men forced me into her limo. I was fucking scared, and I came to you because I trusted you. Because I thought we were..." Tears fall freely now, and I can't finish.
We stand there, staring at each other, the air between us crackling with tension. I feel like I'm looking at a stranger, not the man I thought I knew.
"And what about your family? Is what she said true? Your brothers—Enzo, Gio, and you—are you big bad mobsters? Huh? Are you?"
Marco rubs his chin, and I can tell he's frustrated.
"Are you going to answer me?" I demand.
Marco runs his tongue across his teeth but doesn't speak.
"God, I'm such an idiot," I say as I wipe tears from my face.
I can't even look at him right now.
"I can't do this right now," I say, my voice shaking. "I need to get out of here."
I turn to leave, but Marco grabs my arm. "Where do you think you're going?"
I jerk my arm free, glaring at him. "Away from you, away from all of this."
"Alina—" he starts, but I cut him off.
"Don't," I say, holding up a hand. "Just, don't. I'll be back on Monday. We can figure out where we go from here then."
I swing open his door. "Don't worry about rushing back on Monday, Alina. You won't be needed anyhow. I'm sure I can get someone to fill in for your job."
"Oh, fuck you, Marco," I say, walking down the hall, trying to keep it together until I reach my office.
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