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CHAPTER 64: EMMA
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THE MARRIAGE GAME CHAPTER 65: LIAM
The day drags on in my office. Papers cover my desk, but my mind isn't on them. It keeps drifting to Emma. Ever since we returned from Tuscany, she's been on my mind constantly. It's annoying, frustrating even. She's different from anyone I've ever known, and that kiss… Damn, that kiss.A sharp knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts. I glance at my watch—almost noon. My assistant pokes her head in."Mr. Giovanni is here to see you," she says, her voice tight.Of course, he's back. I knew this was coming sooner or later. I straighten up in my chair, waving her in."Send him in."Marco Giovanni strides in like he owns the place, which, of course, he doesn't. Not anymore. He looks better than last time—cleaner, his suit crisp, and that infuriating smirk on his face like he's got a secret he can't wait to share.I don't stand, just motion for him to sit. He doesn't, hovering by the chair instead, his eyes scanning the room like he's looking for something to criticize."Liam," he sa
THE MARRIAGE GAME CHAPTER 66: EMMA
The city hums around me as I make my way to the art studio, a place I haven't visited in far too long. It's early, the streets are still quiet, and a sense of anticipation bubbles inside me. The studio was supposed to be my sanctuary, a place where I could pour my energy into investigating my father's disappearance. But now, it's become more than that—a reminder of how much my life has changed since Liam entered it.The studio is tucked away in a quiet part of Rimini, a little haven I'd once thought would be my retreat from the world. But as I approach the door, a strange unease settles over me. The feeling only intensifies as I unlock the door and step inside. The familiar scent of paint and canvas greets me, comforting, but there's something off. Something I can't quite put my finger on.I flick the lights on, eager to get lost in my work again, but as the room floods with light, my breath catches in my throat.Someone is here.Standing by the window, as if she owns the place, is Se
THE MARRIAGE GAME CHAPTER 67: LIAM
Dinner is tense, like we're both walking on eggshells. Emma's sitting across from me, poking at her food, barely eating. She gives me these half-hearted smiles that don't reach her eyes, and I know something's wrong. It's like she's trying to put up a front, but I can see through it. After everything we've been through, she should know she can't hide things from me, not anymore.I try to draw her out, but she's evasive. Her mind is elsewhere. It's frustrating because I thought we were past this, past the pretending and the hiding. I thought we were finally on the same page, but tonight, she's retreating into herself again.Out of nowhere, she says, "I'm going to visit my mother tomorrow."It's so abrupt that it catches me off guard. I nod, taking a sip of my wine. "Okay, I'll come with you.""No!" The word is out of her mouth before she can stop it, sharp and panicked. Realizing how she sounds, she quickly backtracks. "I mean, you don't have to. It's just a quick visit."My suspicion
THE MARRIAGE GAME CHAPTER 68: EMMA
I take a deep breath, letting the warm, comforting scent of the café wash over me, but it does little to settle the storm brewing inside. The past few months have been a whirlwind, and sitting here with Natasha feels like the calm before another storm. It's just the two of us today—no Odette, no Gia—just me and Natasha, my cousin, trying to piece together the puzzle that has haunted our family for years.Natasha sips her coffee, her eyes scanning the notes spread out on the table between us. "So, let's go over this again," she says, her voice steady but with an edge of frustration. "Your dad disappeared twenty years ago, and mine...eighteen.""Yeah," I nod, feeling the weight of those numbers. Two years apart, yet the disappearances felt like they were linked somehow. It's something we've both suspected for a while, but finding concrete evidence has been like chasing shadows.Natasha flips through one of the old documents, her fingers trembling slightly. "Antonio...he always believed
THE MARRIAGE GAME CHAPTER 69: LIAM
I'm at my desk, flipping through a stack of contracts, but my mind's not on them. My thoughts keep drifting, not toward work but to the woman who's upended my life in ways I never saw coming. Emma. I can't get her out of my head, no matter how hard I try. And maybe I'm not trying that hard anymore.The door swings open, and without even looking up, I know who it is. Only one person in this house walks in like they own the place—and maybe she still thinks she does."Mother," I say, my voice flat. I set the papers aside, knowing this wasn't going to be a pleasant visit."Liam," she responds, her tone as cold as ever. She takes a seat across from me, her posture rigid, always in control. But I can see the tightness in her jaw, the way her eyes narrow just a fraction. This isn't just a casual drop-in."We need to talk," she starts, her eyes locked onto mine."About what?" I ask, though I already know the answer."About Emma," she says, her voice dripping with disdain. "This... influence s
THE MARRIAGE GAME CHAPTER 70: EMMA
I'm sitting by the window in the living room, staring out at the garden, but not seeing anything. My mind is miles away, back in that café with Natasha, unraveling every word, every possible connection between our fathers' disappearances and the Caruso family. It's all tangled up, like a knot I can't quite untie, and the more I pull at it, the tighter it seems to get.Matteo, my uncle, disappeared two years after my dad. Two years of what? Planning? Hiding? Running from something? And then there's the car accident that killed Natasha's mother—an accident Antonio, Natasha's older brother, is convinced wasn't an accident at all. He said it once, called our fathers murderers, with so much venom in his voice that it stuck with me, playing on repeat in my head.I shiver, the thought sending a chill down my spine. If Antonio's right, if what he suspects is true, then what does that mean? And how deep does this go?I'm so lost in thought that I don't even hear the door open. When I finally n
THE MARRIAGE GAME CHAPTER 71: LIAM
I have different versions of the same nightmare every night. No matter how the details shift, they all lead back to the same moments—the same terror. It's always me, 15 years old, standing in that room, holding a gun I never wanted to touch, let alone fire.The smell of whiskey and stale air fills my nose, clinging to the walls like a memory that won't fade. My father's voice—no longer the strong, commanding tone I once admired—comes out slurred and angry, the words twisted by alcohol and years of bitterness. He's not the man I used to look up to; he's a stranger, lost in his rage and addictions."Liam, do it! Do it now!" My mother's voice pierces the air, sharp and desperate. Her eyes are wide, filled with a fear that sends chills down my spine. I see it all again, the way she looked at me that night—like I was her only hope, like if I didn't act, we would both be lost.My father is advancing, a knife in his hand, his eyes wild with a madness that has nothing to do with the man he us
THE MARRIAGE GAME CHAPTER 72: EMMA
I've spent the last two weeks in a whirlwind of confusion and anxiety. Liam's been distant, even more than before. It feels like we're back at square one—him, always away, always busy, always brooding. It's like Tuscany never happened. I thought we'd turned a corner, that there was something real between us, but now I'm not so sure. His eyes don't linger on mine anymore, his touch is cold, and his smiles feel forced as if they're more out of obligation than genuine emotion.Tonight, I've had enough. I can't keep doing this—wondering, waiting, feeling like a fool. I decide to visit him at his office. Maybe if I confront him, I can get some answers, or at least figure out what's going on in that complicated head of his. If I can just see him, and talk to him, maybe things will start to make sense again. Maybe he's just under pressure, dealing with something he hasn't told me about. But deep down, there's a gnawing doubt, a voice whispering that things have changed between us, and not fo
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