All Chapters of The Lie that Binds: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Marco.Through the hidden door he had installed during the latest round of upgrades to the house, Marco slipped out of her room like a shadow fleeing daylight. His breath caught in his throat, each exhale shaky, his pulse thudding like a war drum in his ears. The hallway was quiet—too quiet—but he didn’t dare slow down. Guilt clawed at his chest with every step as he moved swiftly toward the east wing of the manor, to his private suite tucked far from hers.When he finally pushed open the glass doors to his veranda, the cool night air slapped against his face, awakening his senses with a jolt. He leaned over the railing, gripping it until his knuckles turned white once again, his chest rising and falling in short, sharp bursts.What the hell are you doing, Marco?His reflection in the glass door behind him stared back at him like a silent accusation. This wasn’t just a lapse in judgment—it was betrayal. Not just in thought, but in action… He had touched her, kissed her with a roughn

Stefano and Serena. The duo got into the car and embarked on a journey to see the source of Stefano's wealth and power—his ‘establishments.’ Legitimate and Illicit included. It was the most delicate moment of Serena’s mission. Any slip, one wrong look, or one misplaced word, would make him suspicious, crumbling everything immediately.The air between them was thick,tense yet intimate, charged with everything left unsaid. Stefano said nothing, his fingers tapping the wheel in quiet rhythm, his presence a force on its own.Serena sat composed, but inside, her heart raced each time his gaze lingered. The silence, broken only by the hum of the engine, only deepened the pull between them.This silence was no awkward accident. It was more like a warning and a promise that what was to come was dangerous. The winding road eventually opened up to a sweeping estate nestled between the gentle rise of vineyards. Row upon row of lush, deep-green vines stretched across the horizon like veins p

The third one was next.They were leaving the countryside now. The city shimmered in the late evening light, buildings painted gold by the setting sun. Stefano’s car cut through the streets like a sleek panther, and Serena’s heart beat with an odd blend of anticipation and adrenaline. The farther they got from the countryside, the more she sensed a shift in his energy. He was less guarded now, more primal.It seemed like he tended to enjoy the silence more during the drive. Because he still didn’t speak much, but his hand rested on her thigh, thumb brushing slow circles over the fabric of her dress. Possessive. Teasing. As though silently reminding her who she belonged to.After what seemed like forever, they pulled up in front of a building with mirrored glass windows and black marble walls. “De Ricco Noir,” the silver sign above read. The entrance was velvet-roped and guarded, but as soon as Stefano stepped out, doors opened and heads bowed.This club was nothing like the one they’d

Still in the diner room.The clink of cutlery and the low hum of morning faded quickly once Stefano left. He kissed Serena goodbye like she was porcelain, with whispered promises he’d be back the next day—just needed to “smooth out some tension” with an associate in Palermo.Translation: Someone would either end up dead, paid off, or buried beneath wine barrels.Marco watched the entire thing from behind his coffee, silent. When Stefano left, the entire manor felt like it exhaled with him.Susan had taken the car to the market. The guards, as always, weren’t allowed to linger in the estate when Stefano wasn’t home. That left her and Marco. Alone. In a house too damn big, too damn quiet, and too full of unspoken history.Serena stood up from the dining table first, scooping up their empty plates and heading toward the kitchen. Her fingers trembled slightly, but she clenched them tight until the trembling stopped.Behind her, she heard Marco push back his chair slowly. The long scrape o

Marco and Serena.Serena straightened up, the air in the armory pressing heavy on her chest. She took a step closer to Marco, her expression unreadable, eyes fixed on the biometric vault at the end of the corridor."I'm being serious," she said softly, her voice no longer laced with sarcasm. “I need to know how deep this goes.”Marco turned to her, his usual cocky smirk faltering as he caught the hard edge in her tone. His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing with suspicion.“Okay,” he said, crossing his arms slowly. “What do you want to know?”Serena exhaled through her nose, steadying herself. “How dark and messy this… all of this… can be. Is it just weapons? Just the occasional betrayal and bullet holes? Or is there something else I should know?”Marco didn’t answer right away.Instead, silence fell between them again—this time heavier, darker, more intimate.He looked at her, really looked at her. And something twisted deep in his chest.She was asking about Stefano.Not him.The realiz