Marco ran down the stairs like a lightning bolt. Eimi did not listen to him—she could not stay in that room alone. She followed him quietly, her heart thumping in her chest.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw the mess. A large glass vase lay shattered on the marble floor. Standing in the middle of the hallway was a man Eimi did not recognize. He looked messy, his clothes were dirty, and he held a heavy metal tool in his hand.
One of the housemaids was crying in the corner. The man was shouting.
"Where is the money, Marco?" the man yelled. "Your family destroyed my business! You sit in this palace while my children have nothing!"
Marco the Protector
Marco stepped in front of the man. He did not look scared; he looked like a lion ready to fight.
"Leave now, Antonio," Marco said, his voice low and dangerous. "I told you before—your business failed because you were stealing. Not because of the Morettis."
"Liar!" the man screamed. He raised the metal tool to strike Marco.
Eimi couldn't stay quiet. "Stop!" she shouted, stepping out from the shadows.
The man turned his head. His eyes went wide when he saw Eimi in her expensive silk dress and sparkling jewelry. "Ah, the new wife. The Japanese princess. Maybe if I hurt you, Marco will finally pay me what I'm owed."
He lunged toward Eimi.
The Rescue
Before the man could reach her, Marco moved. He tackled the man to the ground with incredible speed. They struggled on the floor for a moment, but Marco was stronger. He pinned the man's arms behind his back just as the villa's security guards burst through the front doors.
"Take him away," Marco commanded, his breathing heavy.
As the guards dragged the man out, the hallway became quiet again. Only the sound of the maid's quiet sobbing remained.
The Aftermath
Marco stood up and brushed off his shirt. He turned to Eimi, and for a second, his mask of "hatred" was gone. He looked terrified.
He grabbed her shoulders and looked at her face. "Are you hurt? Did he touch you?"
Eimi was shaking, but she shook her head. "I'm fine. But Marco... your hand."
Marco looked down. His knuckles were bleeding from the fight. He didn't seem to care about the pain. He pulled Eimi into a sudden, tight hug. It wasn't for a camera. There was no one watching but the broken glass.
"I told you to stay upstairs," he whispered into her hair. His heart was beating as fast as hers.
Eimi wrapped her arms around his waist. For the first time, she didn't feel like a prisoner in a contract. She felt safe. "I couldn't let him hurt you," she whispered back.
Marco pulled away slightly, looking into her eyes. The air between them changed. The "rules" of their marriage were still there, but they felt smaller now.
"We need to clean your wound," Eimi said softly, taking his hand.
Marco nodded, letting her lead him back toward the kitchen. As they walked, Eimi realized that the world outside was dangerous, but inside this villa, something was starting to grow. It wasn't hate anymore. It was something much more complicated.