Chapter Four: The Man Without a Pulse
954 Words
Marcus never drank in public.
But with Luca, he did.
The bar was private top floor, dim lighting, insulated from gossip. The kind of place powerful men confessed things they would deny in daylight.
Luca Romano had known Marcus since university. He was the only man who understood him not morally, but structurally.
“You look like hell,” Luca said, pouring whiskey.
Marcus didn’t smile. “I don’t sleep much anymore.”
“That’s new.”
Marcus stared at the amber liquid in his glass. “I think I’m getting worse.”
Luca raised an eyebrow. “Worse how?”
Marcus hesitated. The word scared him more than it should have.
“Empty.”
Luca leaned back. “You’ve always been empty.”
“No,” Marcus said quietly. “I used to feel something. Anger. Possession. Amusement. Now…” He paused. “Now I just calculate.”
Luca studied him carefully. “That’s not deterioration. That’s refinement.”
Marcus didn’t look convinced.
“There was a time,” Marcus continued slowly, “when I thought Teresa would change me.”
Luca almost laughed. “You don’t change.”
“She used to cry,” Marcus said. “Now she doesn’t react at all.”
“That bothers you?”
Marcus swallowed.
“Yes.”
Luca’s expression sharpened. “Because you can’t read her anymore.”
Marcus didn’t respond.
Luca leaned forward. “Let’s not pretend this is about emotional growth. You’re using the mistress for leverage, aren’t you?”
Marcus’s jaw tightened slightly.
“Michael Beta’s company,” Luca continued calmly. “His merger vote is next quarter.”
Marcus nodded once.
“Michael’s married to Liora’s sister,” Luca said. “So you’re sleeping with Liora to destabilize Michael.”
“Not destabilize,” Marcus corrected. “Pressure.”
Luca smirked. “You’re unbelievable.”
“It’s efficient,” Marcus replied coldly. “Liora thinks this is romance. She thinks she’s winning something. Meanwhile, Michael’s distracted at home, distracted in board meetings. His numbers are slipping.”
“And Teresa?”
Marcus finally looked unsettled.
“She knows something,” he admitted. “I can feel it.”
Luca studied him carefully. “You’re not afraid of Liora.”
“No.”
“You’re afraid of Teresa.”
Marcus didn’t deny it.
—
Years earlier.
Before the affairs became strategy.
Before Teresa became silent.
There had been a hospital room.
White. Quiet. Too bright.
Teresa sat on the edge of the bed, hands trembling. Her eyes were red, not from hysteria, but from something deeper something collapsing inward,The doctor had left.
The nurse had spoken gently.
The word “loss” had been used carefully.
Teresa stared at nothing.
Marcus stood near the window, arms crossed, posture rigid.
“It happens,” he said flatly.
Teresa’s breathing shook. “It was our baby.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
“It was a pregnancy,” he corrected. “These things fail.”
Fail.
The word hit her harder than the news itself.
She looked up at him then fragile, open, devastated.
“I felt it,” she whispered. “I felt life.”
Marcus turned away, irritated by the sound of her voice cracking.
“Stop crying,” he said sharply.
She stared at him, disbelief mixing with grief.
“Marcus”
“Get up,” he snapped. “This is embarrassing.”
Her face broke completely then.
“I just lost our child.”
Marcus stepped closer, his voice lowering, colder.
“You lost potential,” he said. “Not a child. Don’t dramatize it.”
Tears fell silently down Teresa’s face.
Marcus’s patience evaporated.
“Do you think this weakness helps?” he demanded. “Do you think breaking down fixes anything? You want to try again? Fine. Then recover. Crying won’t build anything.”
She looked at him like she had never seen him before.
And maybe she hadn’t.
He leaned closer, voice cutting.
“If you can’t handle pressure, Teresa, you shouldn’t have married me.”
That was the moment something inside her stopped bleeding.
Not because it healed.
Because it hardened.
She never cried in front of him again.
—
Back in the present, Marcus finished his drink.
“She hasn’t forgiven me,” he said quietly.
“For what?” Luca asked.
Marcus didn’t answer.
Luca studied him carefully. “You didn’t lose her when the baby died,” he said calmly. “You lost her when you told her to stop feeling.”
Marcus’s expression darkened.
“She became… controlled after that.”
“No,” Luca corrected. “She became armored.”
Marcus stared at the table.
“And now,” Luca added, “you’re afraid you created something you can’t dominate.”
Silence.
Because that was exactly it.
—
Across town, Teresa stood alone in what used to be the nursery.
The room was empty now. It had been converted into a storage space years ago. Neutral walls. No softness.
She rested her hand briefly against the doorframe.
She did not cry.
She did not tremble.
She simply remembered.
The cruelty in his voice.
The way grief had disgusted him.
That was the day she stopped trying to be loved.
And started planning to survive.
—
Meanwhile, Liora lay in bed staring at her ceiling.
Marcus hadn’t answered her question.
When are you leaving her?
And something about the way he hesitated bothered her.
Because hesitation meant attachment.
And Liora didn’t compete with ghosts.
She picked up her phone and opened her sister’s contact.
Michael Beta’s wife.
Her own sister.
If Marcus was using her…
She would find out.
And if he was playing a game
She would make sure she rewrote the rules.
- Writer
