Betraying Marco [Book 2 of the Stavros Series]✔️

14 |Bonnie and Clyde|

That night Marco passed out in bed after lying down in it for five seconds where as I curled into a ball on the other side of the bed and tried to fall asleep. It's not as if I have had any past trauma with drunks, I just have never seen Marco so drunk and angry before. It worried and scared me. Has he always been this way, has he only just become this, what else has changed about him that I haven't found out about yet?

The next morning I woke up before Marco again and spent the wasting minutes by taking a shower. I heard the door of the shower slide open and knew who it was before his hands found my hips from behind.

"I needed this," he mumbled against my neck.

"How is your head feeling," I asked back, trying to be the bigger person.

"Like it's being ramped into a cement wall repeatedly," he groaned. Good. "How much did I drink last night?"

"I don't know, ask your cousin or the sluts you were hanging around with." I pulled away from him and stepped out of the shower.

He followed me closely behind. As I was wrapping a towel around my body he spun my around to face him. "Are you angry with me?"

"Angry?" I laughed dryly. "Did you really drink so much last night that you don't remember what even happened when I found you?"

He continued to look at me, guilt clouding his features. "Everything is a little foggy but I know you came to the bar with Victoria. You left and I followed you then you were talking on the phone with someone," he said slowly as the memories came rushing back into his head. "I got really angry for some reason," he said confused.

I ran out of the bathroom, letting my towel drop. I quickly put on a dress that Victoria bought for me yesterday but it seemed that I didn't need to be in a hurry because Marco hadn't followed me out. I pulled on some underwear and only started to towel dry my hair when Marco rushed back into the room.

"I'm so sorry baby," he said quickly, obviously remembering everything, or well I hope everything.

I stopped drying my hair and set the wet towel over a chair to dry out. I then rummaged through my bag, trying to rearrange it even though there was no point. I was trying to busy myself with mundane tasks so I wouldn't have to confront Marco about last night. I've never been good with confronting people, I don't think I ever will be.

Marco knelt beside me on the floor. He hesitantly set a hand on my back. "I'm so sorry for breaking your phone last night, and yelling at you, and for spending my time around those women while I was drunk." I didn't respond and instead pulled out clothing, folded them, and put them back into the suitcase.

"Please talk to me," Marco pleaded.

I sighed and let the clothes in my hands drop. "I don't know what to say. You really upset me and you didn't even care! You got so mad at me because you thought I was talking to Rumi, which I wasn't, because you were the one who told me this was our second chance," I softly said to him, hoping he understood everything I was saying. "But then you take the first day here spending it with your cousin getting drunk at a bar with a bunch of hot girls while I was tagging along Victoria while she shopped for clothes I could never afford. You were being unfair Marco."

The look on his face nearly broke my heart. It was complete torture. "I didn't realize and I'm so sorry. I don't think I can say that enough baby. But you're right, this is supposed to be our time together and if you can ignore your friends from back home than I can avoid my family here. I'll make it up to you." He reached up to sweep away a stray lock of my wet hair before kissing me softly on the lips.

"How," I whispered.

"I'll show you Italy; all over, I promise, from Milan," he kissed my neck, "to Florence," under my ear, "to Sicily," and down to the skin right above the collar of my dress. "I'll give you an experience you'll never forget."

We didn't go all the way again, partly because I was afraid we wouldn't be able to stay quiet like the last time and also because Marco felt so guilty that he didn't think he deserved it. But he did make it up to me big time.

We joined the family down in the living room later in the afternoon, our bags already packed upstairs and ready to go. Marco understood my clothing situation so he promised he would take me shopping in Milan, the first stop and anywhere else I would want to go too. I couldn't pass up the offer.

We made it our mission to stand our ground with Sofia and get on a train to Milan by dinner time. But that's not what happened when we walked into a war zone.

Everyone was shouting over one another, all five of them: Sofia, Ronaldo, Antonio, Victoria, and Rocco. But it wasn't like the normal Italian family shouting and having a fun time, no it was in actual anger. All of it was in Italian but I heard all too familiar names like Marco and Xander, and even my own name.

"What's going on," I asked Marco in worry.

"I don't know. They're all talking to fast and over each other. I can't make much out," he said right before Rocco noticed us.

"Dude I am so sorry," he said genuinely before running out of the room.

"What was that about," I asked Marco.

"Marco," Sofia called angrily. "And you," she pointed at me with a death glare.

"Don't talk to her like that ma," Victoria defended, stepping in front of me. Her husband was right by her side while Ronaldo was on his wife's side as well.

"What's going on here," Marco asked sternly.

"Wrench," she yelled at me. "Wrench," she repeated. "Out, get out!"

I gasped, completely shocked and hid behind Marco's shoulder.

"Ma," Victoria yelled again, this time louder.

"Victoria," Marco said, waiting for her to respond.

Finally Victoria turned to us and said, "Rocco told us about what happened between Eliza and Xander. Mamma and Pappa are really upset." Yeah no kidding. "They won't listen to everything he's saying though, about how Xander knew all along."

"Wait what are you talking about," I asked Victoria, completely lost. I noticed Marco's body stiffen and his eyes widen in fear as he looked down at me.

Victoria huffed frustrated. "Tell your fiancé that next time he's drunk and wants to tell a secret don't tell my idiot brother who doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut for the life of him."

"Hey I heard that," Rocco yelled from the hallway.

"Good," Victoria yelled back, "because this is all your fault!"

"No, it's Eliza's. She's the one who slept with her fiancés brother!"

I gasp and pull away from Marco, feeling the shame and guilt wash over me all over again.

"Baby," Marco pleads, trying to get me back in grasp.

"No," I yell, slapping his hands away from me. "You told him? You told your cousin?" Tears start to fall from my eyes but I try to hold them back and be strong.

"I was drunk," he defended. "I had way too much to drink and it slipped out!"

"Well your family now thinks I'm a slut Marco," I yelled. "How are you going to fix that?" I ran out of the room before he could grab me again and up to our bedroom where I grabbed my suitcase.