Dusk Till Dawn

8

Freya

The morning of the Royal Ascot felt tense from the moment I woke up. The entire house was buzzing with preparations, but the weight of what happened yesterday still hung over me like a storm cloud. I hadn't told Marco what Zio Hades and I talked about, and it was clear he noticed. He'd been watching me all morning, his silence more oppressive than any words could have been.

As I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the ridiculous hat that was part of the dress code, I felt Marco's presence behind me. He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, his gaze boring into me.

"You're quiet," he said, his voice sharp enough to cut through the air.

I glanced at him through the reflection, my chest tightening. "I'm just trying to get ready."

He took a step forward, his tone darkening. "You're hiding something. What did you and Zio Hades talk about?"

I turned around slowly, refusing to let him see how much his question rattled me. "It's none of your business, Marco."

His eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a cold smirk. "None of my business? I'm your fiancé—at least that's what everyone else seems to think. Or does that mean nothing to you?"

I clenched my fists, feeling my frustration rise. "This engagement is nothing, Marco, and you know it. It's just a deal."

Marco's expression hardened, his voice laced with bitter amusement. "Funny how you say that now, when it suits you."

My stomach twisted at his words, but I kept my chin up. "Why do you even care what Zio Hades and I talked about? You've never cared about me before."

His laugh was hollow, dripping with disdain. "I don't care about your secrets, Freya. What I care about is you acting like a child, thinking you can handle everything on your own when you're clearly drowning."

I took a step closer, my heart racing with anger. "You don't know anything about me, Marco. You think you can control me, but you can't."

His eyes flashed with something cold and dangerous. "Control you? Please. You're barely worth the effort."

The words hit me like a slap, and for a moment, I was speechless. Barely worth the effort? My mind raced with fury, but I forced myself to speak. "If that's how you really feel, then why do you even bother?"

Marco took another step toward me, his voice dropping to a cruel whisper. "Because it's amusing watching you flounder around, pretending you're stronger than you are. You're nothing more than a mess I'm forced to deal with."

My breath caught in my throat, the sting of his words cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. "And you're nothing more than a cold, unfeeling coward," I shot back, my voice trembling.

He tilted his head, his eyes dark with contempt. "Say whatever you want, Freya. It doesn't change the fact that you're out of your depth. You don't know what you're doing, and you never will."

His words felt like shards of ice digging into my skin, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe. I glared at him, anger bubbling inside me like boiling water ready to overflow. How had we gotten to this point? Every single day, it felt like we were drifting further apart, the hatred between us growing sharper, uglier.

"I can't believe I ever thought there was a decent person underneath all that stone, Marco," I spat, trying to mask the hurt. "You've made it very clear just how little you care."

He laughed—cold, mocking. "You still don't get it, do you? This is who I am, Freya. And you, with all your naivety, still think you can fix things. But the truth is, you don't matter enough to change anything."