Nico stepped out of the bridal suite and shut the door behind him, leaving Mara alone with his father's corpse.
The hallway outside was quieter now.
She looked at the antique clock on the wall. 8:47 PM. He had told her to go to the bedroom, take off the wedding dress, and wait for him.
She walked into the adjoining room on trembling legs. Reaching behind her back, she unzipped the heavy, blood-splattered silk and let it pool at her feet. She stood there in her thin undergarments, shivering in the cold air, waiting for the man who held her life in his hands.
She was terrified, but she was a survivor. If this was the price of a clean exit, she would pay it.
Ten minutes passed. Then twenty.
Each time a floorboard in the hall creaked, her muscles tensed up. She kept her eyes on the doorknob, waiting for it to turn. It didn't turn. The hallway stayed silent.
She counted the tiles on the ceiling. Thirty-six. Then the boards on the floor. Forty-two. Anything to keep her mind from spiralling… anything to stop herself from thinking about what was supposed to happen when that door finally opened.
Finally, the doorknob turned.
Mara tensed, bracing herself for what was coming next. She didn't know who she was hoping or expecting to see, but it wasn't Nico.
Instead, a massive guard in a dark suit stood in the doorway, staring straight ahead like she wasn't half-naked.
"Get dressed, ma'am," the guard said flatly. "Mr. Ferrante said you are to wait in your room."
Mara grabbed a robe, her heart pounding. "My room? He told me to wait here."
"North wing, third floor," the guard replied, ignoring her confusion. "Let's go."
She didn't argue. She pulled the robe tight and followed him.
The guard escorted her through the silent, heavily guarded estate to a large room in the North Wing. He opened the door, gestured her inside, and left without a word. The lock clicked behind him.
The suite itself was big, but it felt like no one had ever lived there… as if it were a space designed merely to fill a large house rather than be lived in.
It was clean and nicely furnished, but sterile. No photos. No books. No proof anyone had ever lived here. Just expensive furniture waiting for the next occupant.
She sat on the edge of the bed, her mind spinning with questions she had no answer to: Why hadn't Nico come? Did he change his mind? Did he realize she was useless?
Or worse… was this part of the plan? Lock her up, let Bruno take her in the morning, and wash his hands of the whole mess?
She tested the door handle… locked from the outside, just like she'd expected.
She went to the window next. It overlooked the gardens three storeys down. It was too high to jump. Even if she broke the glass and made it to the ground without snapping an ankle, the estate was crawling with guards. She had seen at least a dozen on the walk over.
No exits. No plan. No Nico.
Mara sat back down and pressed her palms together, trying to breathe.
Suddenly, she heard low voices in the hallway outside. She crept off the bed and pressed her ear against the heavy wood of the door.
"...announcing it tonight was reckless." It was Bruno's voice.
"The Council needs to know there's an heir," Nico replied coldly. "That's not reckless. That's strategic."
"Strategic?" Bruno's tone sharpened. "You expect them to believe a pregnancy that conveniently appears the exact same night Gio dies? They will think she's lying. Even I think she's lying."
There was a tense pause.
"They will ask questions, Nico," Bruno continued smoothly. "And when they do, I'll make sure the widow is examined properly. For the safety of the Ferrante heir, of course."
Mara's stomach dropped to the floor.
"Are you talking about a medical exam, Uncle?" Nico asked slowly.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about. A blood test, first thing tomorrow morning, before the funeral. My personal physician will conduct it."
Silence.
Mara stopped breathing.
'Say no,' she begged Nico silently. 'Tell him no.'
"The Council will appreciate the transparency," Bruno pressed again. "If the widow is truly carrying Gio's child, then there's nothing to worry about. Or is there?"
There was another heavy pause.
"No," Nico said finally. "There's nothing to worry about."
"Good. Then it's settled. Tomorrow morning. Nine AM sharp. I'll make the call."
Footsteps moved away from the door.
Mara stumbled back, placing her hand over her mouth.
Nine AM tomorrow.
A blood test would prove she was lying. And once they knew she wasn't telling the truth, Nico wouldn't need her anymore. Uncle Bruno would throw her into that basement Nico talked about... or worse, terminate her… permanently.
She didn't know how long she stood there, staring at nothing.
Then the door suddenly clicked open, and Nico walked in without knocking.
He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, his dark eyes locking onto her pale face.
"You heard," he said.
It wasn't a question.
"Yes." Mara's voice shook. "You left me in that room! And now Bruno wants a blood test. I'm not pregnant, Nico!"
"I am aware of your medical status," he said dryly.
"Then why did you agree to it? If they test me tomorrow, they will kill me!"
He pushed off from the door and walked slowly toward her. "Bruno has the house swarming with his men. If I stayed in your bed tonight, he would know the pregnancy claim was a sham and that the child, if any, was mine. I had to leave you."
"That doesn't solve the blood test!" she practically yelled, no longer caring about the danger. "I have less than twelve hours! What is your plan?"
He stopped a few inches from her. "We delay it."
"How?"
He looked down at her, and a dark, dangerous spark lit up his cold eyes. "Chaos," he simply said.
Then he leaned in so close she could feel his breath. "Trust me."
With that, he turned and walked out, locking the door behind him.
Mara didn't sleep.
She spent the entire night pacing the floor, watching the clock tick down her life span.
6:00 AM. The sky outside turned a dull grey. She sat by the window and stared at the empty gardens below. No movement. No chaos.
By 7:00 AM, she had taken her bath already.
7:30 AM. A guard brought a tray of toast and coffee she couldn't stomach. The food sat untouched on the desk.
8:00 AM. The estate was dead silent. There was no 'chaos'. Nico hadn't done anything.
8:15 AM. She checked the door again. Still locked.
8:25 AM. Mara was trembling so hard she had to grip the edge of the vanity to stay standing.
He had abandoned her. The monster had played her, and now she was going to die.
At exactly eight-thirty, a sharp knock echoed on the door.
Mara jumped.
"Mrs. Ferrante?" A woman's voice called out from the hallway.
"Yes?" Mara slowly stood up and walked towards the door.
She heard the key turn, and then the door opened to reveal a woman in her fifties standing there, her grey hair pulled into a tight bun.
"I'm Elena," the woman said briskly. "Mr. Ferrante sent me."
Mara's heart skipped a beat or two, but she composed herself, lifting her chin as she looked the older woman in the eye.
"Which Mr. Ferrante?"