All Chapters of Marked By Him: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

ARYA’S POVI woke up the next morning with swollen eyes and a hollow feeling in my chest that no amount of sleep could fix. The pillow was still damp from last night's tears, and my throat felt raw from crying.I managed to push myself to the bathroom, washing my hair and cleaning my makeup. I wore a comfortable knit sweater, black leggings, and styled my hair into a simple low pony.In the mirror, I could see the bags underneath my eyes and how much color I had lost. The phone Marco had slipped me yesterday during our gelato outing felt like heavy in my pocket as I made my way downstairs. He texted me last night asking for us to meet today and sent the address already.I didn’t know if it was the rage or the pain, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to spend the day cooped up in the house. Matteo was already waiting by the car, and looking at him now, I couldn't tell if he'd known what Giovanni was planning last night or if he has just been following orders like always."I need to make a

ARYA’S POVThe moment I stepped through the villa's entrance, I knew something was terribly wrong.About three guards rushed past me without acknowledgment, their faces tense. The sharp metallic scent of blood hung in the air, mixing with antiseptic and my heart jumped into my throat.I followed the commotion toward the living room, my feet moving before my brain had fully processed what was happening. The scene that greeted me made me freeze in the doorway.Giovanni was sprawled on the leather couch, his white shirt soaked through with blood on the left side. A man I didn't recognize was bent over him, working frantically at his shoulder while Giovanni lay unconscious.Around them, some guards were barking orders into phones, others checking weapons, and one pressing gauze to what looked like a bullet wound.A bullet wound!? Did that mean that Giovanni was shot?Part of me wanted to go upstairs, close my door, and let him deal with the consequences of whatever violence he had involve

GIOVANNI'S POV"You have a sharp mouth, Arya Vitale," I said, watching the fire flash in her eyes. "It's one of the things I find most... intriguing about you.""Don't," she warned, but I could see her resolve wavering."Don't what? Acknowledge that you're possibly the only person brave enough to talk back to me?" I allowed myself a small smile, even though the pain in my shoulder was making spots dance in my vision. "Most people cower. You snarl and it’s refreshing."She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I'm glad my suffering entertains you.""Your fire entertains me," I corrected. "Your suffering…" I paused, something uncomfortable twisting in my chest. "Your suffering serves a purpose. Whether you believe that or not."Before she could respond or I could say something else I'd regret, I turned and walked out of the study. My shoulder screamed in protest with each step, fresh blood seeping through the bandage, but I would be damned if I showed weakness now."Cazzo," I muttered under my

ARYA’S POVI stayed in my room long after Giovanni left, staring at the door he had walked through like it might offer some explanation for what had just happened.He had taken the phone already and I wasn't comfortable with it. What would he do about Marco?The anxiety built in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I forced myself to move and do something normal.I had just finished brushing my damp hair when Matteo knocked on my door."Mrs. De Santis? May I come in?""Yes," I said, setting down the brush.He entered with his usual stoic expression, but something in his eyes looked almost... apologetic?"Your family is departing today," he said. "In approximately two hours. Mr. De Santis has arranged for transportation to take you to the hotel to say goodbye."It felt like the ground had been taken from underneath me and I gasped. "What?" I stood up, my legs suddenly unsteady. "They're leaving already? But they've only been here a few days. They were supposed to stay-”"Plans have ch

GIOVANNI'S POVThe first thing I registered when consciousness dragged me back from the void was a splitting, vicious headache that felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to my skull and then, for good measure, set the pieces on fire.I groaned, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the light that seemed determined to pierce directly through my brain.That thought cut through the fog of misery. Why was there so much light?I never left the curtains open. The darkness helped me think, so why…I forced my eyes open, squinting against the assault of morning sunlight streaming through wide-open curtains, and froze.Arya sat in the armchair by the window. She was not hovering or fidgeting. But she was sitting there with her legs tucked under her, a book in her lap, bathed in golden morning light like some sort of Renaissance painting.She looked up when I moved, and our eyes met across the room.For a long moment, neither of us spoke.My mind raced, tryin