Chapter Thirty-Three

After everything is said and done, and we've pieced together a plan to tell Arlo everything and deal with Carmella, I find myself back at my mom's house, packing up my things to return home. The load of the day is still intense on my shoulders, but there's something else eating away at me—something unfinished.

As I circle around the bed, my eyes land on the laptop. It's still open, the download now complete. I hesitate for a moment as if it senses what's coming. Gently, I lower myself onto the edge of the mattress, feeling it dip beneath me. My fingers hover over the pad before I swipe, finding the video file waiting for me.

I press play.

The screen flickers to life, and as the footage unfolds, I find myself holding my breath the entire time. At first, I'm not sure what I'm seeing, but soon, the reality crashes down around me. Each second feels like a punch to the gut, each movement more unbearable than the last. Tears well up in my eyes, and before I even realize it, they fall down my cheeks. My hand shoots up to cover my mouth, muffling the sobs that threaten to escape.

My heart clenches, the pain so sharp it feels like it might tear me apart. When the video finally comes to an end, I'm left in a state of complete shock, frozen in place. The emptiness that follows is harrowing, but inside my mind, everything is spiralling—too fast, too much to process.

With trembling fingers, I close the laptop, but the images, they're seared into my mind. I sit there, staring into space, going over it and with every passing second, I fall deeper into sadness and anger both at the same time.

This… this is going to change everything.

It's the evening, and I'm pacing the living room, my nerves on edge as me and Jasper wait for Arlo to arrive. Everything we've found out makes me feel sick to my stomach and my mind reels with endless questions: How will he react? How will this change everything? Can he come back from all this? Jasper sits on the edge of the couch, his head lowered in his hands, clearing feeling how I am.

The sound of the front door creaking open freezes me in place and my gaze locks onto the threshold, my pulse racing in my ears.

"Wren?" Arlo's voice echoes from the entrance, and instantly, my heart clenches.

When he rounds the corner, our eyes meet, and something inside me shatters. A sob rips from my chest, uncontrollable, and before I know it, I'm running toward him. As soon as I'm close, I throw myself into his arms, wrapping myself around him. He dips slightly, catching me, his strong arms cloaking around me.

He holds me tight, but I can feel his confusion, the way his muscles tense as he inhales deeply, his nose buried in my hair.

"What's wrong?"

I can't speak. Every word I had planned to say has dissolved into the panic I feel, the fear of destroying his world and mentality with the truth. I'm trembling so badly, I feel like I might fall apart in his arms.

"Baby, you're fucking shaking…" his grip tightens around me as if he can hold me together through the tremors.

I can't bring myself to let go. I cling to him as if releasing him would somehow make the situation worse. Slowly, Arlo walks me backward, crouching over to keep me wrapped in his arms. When we reach the couch, he lifts me, his hands firm around the back of my thighs as he sits down on the edge, perching me on his lap, but I keep my soaked face buried in his shoulder.

"Wren, let me see you," he murmurs, his fingers brushing through my hair.

I pull back just enough to let him see me, but I keep my eyes low. His examine my features, taking in the bruise on my cheek and cuts on my lips. He tilts my head back gently with his fingers on my jaw, looking at the marks on my neck, then a protective growl rumbles in his chest, his anger mounting, but what he is feeling now, isn't even the tip of the iceberg.

"We need to talk," I whisper, and he pauses, trying to catch my eyes but I avoid the collision of our gazes.

"Where's the kids?" he asks and that finally makes my look at him.

"Safe." I say with a sniffle.

His brows pinch, ready to say something again, but I cut him off.

"I've found out everything, Arlo. I just need you to confirm it by facing it and then we can go from there."

He looks at me puzzled, his eyes momentarily finally meeting Jaspers, and I shift my body, turning and leaning over to get the document. I clutch it and then offer it to him.

"I found a key a few days ago," I confess. "In your mom's office. Hidden."

His face is a picture of confusion, and I climb off him, taking the seat beside him so he can go through the papers.

"My mom tracked down what it was for," I begin, and Arlo's eyes snap to mine, a brow arched, but I continue. "It was for a secure locker on the outskirts of New York. Inside, there was this paperwork and a USB stick."

Arlo's gaze drops to the contract, his fingers flicking it open. His eyes scan the contents with a focused intensity. I watch him, biting my bottom lip despite the pain it causes. When he finally finishes, he slams the paperwork down on the coffee table with a frustrated huff, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

"Wren, what the fuck is this?" he demands, then stands quickly, causing both me and Jasper to rise at the same time.

Arlo paces back and forth, his movements agitated. I fidget with my fingers, feeling the pressure of his growing anger.

"Carmella isn't your real mom, Arlo," I finally say.

The impact of my words is immediate. Arlo halts mid-stride, his body rigid as he stares ahead, processing what I've just said.

"Jasper is your twin," I murmur, almost afraid of his reaction.

His head whips around, eyes wide as he locks onto Jasper. I take a cautious step back as Arlo's massive frame strides past me, purposefully toward Jasper, locked in and focused.

When he stops close in front of him, Jasper meets him head on with a steady expression, lifting his chin slightly in silent challenge. Arlo's gaze scrutinizes Jasper's face, searching for something hidden. He tilts his head to the side, eyes narrowing.

My eyes flicker between them, taking in their features—the same color and texture of hair, yet different styles, similar height, and build, though Jasper is slightly slimmer. The tattoos on their bodies seem to mirror one another, except Jaspers have colour, whereas Arlo's are gray and dark. The only thing that is the total opposite are their eye color and subtle differences in their noses. And of course, there personalities and demeanours are completely different.

"I look nothing like this ugly motherfucker," Arlo bites out, but Jasper simply grins at his brother.

Arlo's jaw tenses and he spins around, his eyes flashing with rage as he throws his hands up.

"What the fuck is this?!" he shouts angrily and my body tenses although he wasn't really aiming it at me.

"He's your…" I say, but he snaps.

"I fucking heard you. But it's not fucking true, Wren!"

He looks over at Jasper, enraged. "Is this about your batshit crazy mother again?" he demands sharply.

I shake my head, stepping closer to him. "No, it's yours. Carmella." I pause, feeling the weight of the truth I'm about to deliver. "I'm sorry, baby, but it's worse than you can imagine."

Arlo's gaze snaps to mine, his eyes blazing, but I hold his stare, my own eyes pleading with him. "Please, just listen," I beg.

He stands rigid, his chest heaving with each breath. The frustration in his expression is intense, but I sense a flicker of acceptance.

Seeing this as a moment to move forward, I call out, "Vivienne!"

Arlo's face twists with irritation as he throws me an angry glare. "You've got to be kidding me, Wren!"

Vivienne and my mom step into the room. Vivienne pauses at the threshold, offering a small, hesitant smile, but Arlo's eyes narrow at her, his scepticism clear.

"Tell him everything," I direct toward my mom and Vivienne.

As Vivienne begins detailing everything, Arlo remains eerily silent, absorbing every detail without a word. His stillness is unnerving, his face a mask of emotionlessness. He doesn't flinch or react outwardly. I watch him intently, my heart aching to read his emotions. But Arlo being Arlo, shows no sign of what he's feeling. His silence is horrible, and his lack of response only deepens my worry.

"But my mom brought me back to New York City, not you," he finally growls with accusation when he hears something he doesn't like.

Vivenne nods solemnly. "I know. I wasn't prepared to have Miguel bring you back until you were fully recovered. But you found your way back before I could intervene," she explains.

The mention of Miguel makes Arlo's posture stiffen slightly, a subtle sign that things are starting to click into place for him since no one would have known that name.

"And why the fuck would my mom bring me back if she hated me as much as you say? Why not just leave me in Brazil to die?"

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, but my mom is quicker to respond. "Isn't it obvious, Arlo? You're a smart man."

Arlo's eyes lock onto hers and I can see he knows deep down, but he's being stubborn, he doesn't want to believe it. The truth is a bitter pill to swallow.

My mom continues, "Wren was making things difficult for her. She wasn't getting the control she wanted with Wren in charge because you left her everything. Bringing you back was her way of regaining that power and control. It was her attempt to reassert herself in a situation where she felt she was losing her grip."

Arlo's expression remains mysterious, but I can see the wheels turning in his mind as he starts to see the full picture of Carmella's manipulations.

I watch as his jaw flexes, his teeth grinding, then his eyes slowly lift to meet mine. "You think she's the one who made the hit on you when you were pregnant with Lumi?" he asks, as if it's just the two of us in the room and my stomach drops.

I nod slowly, "I know she did." I say without hesitation.

Before I can explain further, Arlo's anger finally erupts. He growls loudly as he turns on his heel and starts walking away, his hand dragging roughly over his face.

"Arlo!" I call out, desperate to tell him what else I found, but my mom steps in front of me while the front door slams closed behind him.

"Let him process everything, darling."

At that moment, her phone starts ringing. She quickly retrieves it, answering with a sharp focus. "Yes?" she asks, listening intently, then nods.

"Okay. On route." She hangs up and turns to me. "Time to move. Carmella is planning to leave, now."

My eyes widen as she grabs my hand, pulling me toward the door.

"But Arlo!" I protest, my heart racing.

She stops, turning to face me with a hard look. "If you don't stop her now, nothing will, Wren," she says. "We have to make tough decisions, with or without our husbands. This is in the best interest of you, the kids, and ultimately Arlo. This. Ends. Now."

I soak in her words, knowing she right, but I can't help but think about the man I love in all of this. How he is feeling.

I sigh, pulling my hand free from her grasp and head over to the coffee table. I lift the laptop and tuck it under my arm before heading for the front door.

"Let's go," I mutter.

When we pull up to Carmella's house, we all get out of the car. Without hesitation, I shoot at the camera and intercom on the door, shattering it to pieces. Then, as soon as I am close enough, I push the handle down and enter the mansion.

It's quiet in the foyer, too silent, but it doesn't stop me. As Jasper, Vivenne, and my mom trail behind me carefully, we all ascend the grand staircase, all on high alert and ready to find her.

We softly walk down the hallway and the further we get to the back of the house, the more I hear her voice, and I slow down. Closing the distance to a nearby room on the right, I pause.

"Of course Arlo knows, Sara…" Carmella says on the phone.

I peek around the doorway, spotting her right away with her back to me, packing a suitcase.

"Tell Cree I will be there soon."

My blood boils, the realization that she thinks she can take Cree from us buzzing through my veins and without thinking, I rush into the room, gun aimed forward.

She immediately spins, her gun aiming toward us, taking steps backward and we slow down. All our guns aim at her and her eyes flash between every single one of us, until they land on Vivenne.

"Well, isn't this an unpleasant surprise," she says with displeasure. "Whatever she said is a lie."

I scoff, "I know everything Carmella. I know what the fuck you've done."

She shrugs, "I've done nothing but been a mom to a boy that she gave away and didn't want."

"You call yourself a mother?" I spit, my anger making my hands shake. "You were never deserving of such a title."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about Wren." She says with her chin raised. "You've got this all wrong. I saved him."

"Saved him?" I scoff. "I found the key Carmella. I found the adoption papers and the USB stick. I found every dirty little fucking lie."