Mark yanked his tie loose as a fit of anxious frenzy seized him, and he strode to the couch for a seat.
“So? You think I’m the one behind it too, don’t you?! A stupid requital against that Mateo Rodriguez? You really believe that I would be behind any of this?!”
Arianne said nothing. She suspected him, but she doubted that suspicion just as much as she doubted him. When pressed, she had no idea what to say.
All her deafening silence succeeded in doing was to pour fuel into Mark’s fire. In the blink of an eye, he rose to his feet and grabbed Arianne by the chin, hard. “What are you implying? Melanie suspects me, and now, in her footsteps, so do you? If this were my doing, mark my words, I would not keep my lips shut on the matter nor bend over backward trying to hide it from you, rather, I would confess, plainly, to you that I want Rodriguez dead! So why am I being accused of a crime that I have not a single connection to, let alone pulled strings behind?!”
Pain flared in response to his tightening clench, and Arianne furrowed her eyebrows. “C-Calm down...! I... admit I did suspect you, but... but—”
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