Beneath The Surface

Chapter 29 : The Weight Of Truth

--- Raven's POV ---

 
As I stand in the kitchen, reeling from the confrontation, I hear Marco's heavy footsteps receding. A minute or two later, the sound of his office door slamming shut reverberates through the house, making me flinch. The echo of that door closing feels like the finality of a chapter ending, leaving me with a gnawing emptiness.

For a long while, I remain frozen, trying to make sense of everything that just happened. The truth about my identity is out, and Marco's reaction has left me feeling utterly shattered. But amidst my turmoil, one question rises to the surface, why does my father play such a pivotal role in all of this? There is something hidden, something Marco hasn’t told me, and I need to know what it is.

Slowly, I gather myself and start moving towards Marco’s office. Each step feels like a test of my resolve, my heart pounding with a mix of dread and determination. There’s a heavy, oppressive silence in the house, broken only by the muffled sounds of movement from behind the office door.

When I reach his office, I hesitate, my hand hovering over the doorknob. I can feel the weight of Marco’s anger and pain radiating through the door. But I need answers. I need to understand why my father is at the center of this storm.

Taking a deep breath, I knock lightly before pushing the door open. Marco turns sharply to face me, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something else, something darker and more complex.

"I need to talk to you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I need to understand why my father is part of this."

Marco takes a step towards me, his expression a storm of emotions. "You don’t get it, do you?" he snaps, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Your father ruined everything. And now you’re here, a constant reminder of all that pain."

"I’m not my father," I protest, my voice trembling.

"That doesn’t change anything," he retorts, his eyes burning with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. "Your father has caused more pain than you can imagine. And now, you’re in my life, bringing it all back."

I can see the turmoil in his eyes, the struggle between the feelings he has for me and the hatred he holds for my father. He’s trying to push me away, to shield himself from the pain. But his words cut deep, and the hurt is almost unbearable.

"Why won’t you tell me what happened?" I ask, my voice breaking. "What did he do to you? Why does he matter so much in all of this?"

Marco’s jaw clenches, and he turns away from me, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "You wouldn’t understand," he mutters.

"Try me," I plead, taking a tentative step closer. "I deserve to know."

He whirls around, his eyes flashing with a fierce, almost desperate anger. "You don’t deserve anything from me, Raven. Just stay away."

His words hit me like a physical blow, and I step back, my heart aching. There’s more to this story than he’s letting on, something buried deep in his past that’s tied to my father. But Marco won’t open up, and his anger is pushing me further away.

"I don’t want to fight," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "I just want to understand."

Marco’s shoulders sag, the fight draining out of him. For a moment, he looks lost, as if haunted by memories he can’t escape. But then the anger returns, and he shakes his head, as if trying to dispel the ghosts of the past.

"You can’t understand," he says, his voice cold and distant. "Just go."

I turn and leave his office, the door closing softly behind me. As I walk away, the house feels like a labyrinth of shadows and secrets, each one more confounding than the last. The realization that Marco knows more about my father than he’s willing to admit, and that his secrets are now entwined with mine, weighs heavily on me. The pain of his rejection is profound, but the mystery of his past, and how it connects to mine, lingers like a dark cloud over my heart.

I make my way back to the bedroom, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Each step feels heavier than the last, burdened by the weight of Marco’s words and the revelation of my true identity. How is Marco's past connected to mine? What had my father done to cause a man like Marco to look so defeated and filled with anger?

Reaching the bedroom, I close the door softly behind me and head straight for the bathroom. The desire for a long, hot shower is overwhelming, a small respite, a moment to collect my thoughts and soothe my aching heart. I strip off my clothes and step into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over me, hoping it can wash away some of the confusion and pain.

The steam envelops me, but it does little to alleviate the heavy feeling in my chest. As the water flows over me, I lean against the cool tiles, trying to piece together the fragments of my shattered world. My father, Alexander Knight, has always been a figure of fear and loathing in my life. His abuse, his manipulations, they were the reasons I ran away, the reasons I created Bella as a shield to hide behind. But now, that shield is gone, and Raven Knight stands exposed.

What had my father done to Marco? The question gnaws at me, refusing to be silenced. Marco’s reaction was more than just anger, it was personal, deeply personal. The look in his eyes, the way his voice trembled with suppressed rage and hurt, it spoke of a history I knew nothing about. A history that now intertwines with my own, complicating everything.

The truth about my identity being set free should have been a moment of liberation, but instead, it has only brought more confusion and pain. I close my eyes, letting the water pour over me, trying to find some semblance of clarity. The reality of being Alexander Knight’s daughter is a heavy burden to bear, one that I’ve carried for so long, but now it feels even more suffocating.

Marco’s rejection, his anger, it cuts deeply. Despite everything, I’ve grown to care for him, to see him as more than just the ruthless man he portrays. But now, knowing that my father is at the root of his pain, it’s almost too much to bear. The thought of being the cause of Marco’s suffering, even indirectly, is unbearable.

I stay in the shower until the water starts to run cold, my skin pruned and my mind still a tumultuous storm. Eventually, I turn off the water and step out, wrapping a towel around myself. The mirror is fogged, obscuring my reflection, and for a moment, I’m grateful. I don’t want to see the broken woman staring back at me.

As I sit on the edge of the bed, I feel more lost than ever. The revelations of today have left me feeling adrift, unsure of where to go or what to do next. The only certainty is that the past is catching up to me, and I can’t keep running from it. But facing it, facing the truth of my father’s actions and their impact on Marco, feels like an insurmountable challenge.

I lie down, pulling the covers over me, seeking the comfort of sleep, though I know it will be elusive. The events of the day replay in my mind, a relentless cycle of confusion and heartache. As I close my eyes, a single tear slips down my cheek, the weight of my father’s legacy pressing down on me, mingling with the pain of Marco’s rejection.