Chapter 76

The torrential rain pounded on the floor-to-ceiling windows of Ronaldo’s study, but he hardly took notice. He reclined in his leather chair, rotating a tumbler of whiskey in one hand as his other held a bundle of photographs provided by his private investigator. The blurry pictures captured Roseline encountering Sam in hidden spots—parks, cafés, and even the mansion's side entrance late at night. 

Every photo felt like a blade twisting in his stomach. 

“She believes I’m an idiot,” he whispered under his breath, his tone quiet and threatening. His composed facade concealed the intense anger simmering inside him. 

The investigator, a slender man with keen eyes named Becker, stood quietly across the desk, awaiting orders. 

"She has been careful," Becker finally remarked, his voice steady, "yet not sufficiently to go unnoticed." The man—Sam Everett—appears to be more than just a friend. 

Ronaldo’s grip on the glass grew firmer. "Do you possess evidence of their actions?" 

Becker paused, selecting his words with caution. "Not at this time, but their gatherings occur too often to be pure." If you’d like, I can explore further. "Tap their devices, track Everett more intently." 

Ronaldo’s mouth twisted into a wicked grin. "Go ahead and do it." "I desire to know everything—his whereabouts, the people he talks to, and what he signifies to her." 

Becker acknowledged with a nod and exited the room, leaving Ronaldo to his reflections. He grasped one of the pictures, an image of Roseline chuckling gently while Sam leaned in nearby. The scene ignited a new surge of anger within him. 

"You believe you can trick me, Roseline?" he murmured, his tone spiteful. "You will wish you hadn't underestimated me." 

Roseline navigated the house cautiously in the following days, sensing the heaviness of Ronaldo’s stare upon her even when he was absent. His attitude had changed slightly—he became more distant, more strategic, observing her with the intensity of a hunter tracking its target. 

During breakfast, Ronaldo's inquiries appeared informal on the surface, yet the underlying tone sent chills down her spine. 

“What have you been up to, my dear?” he inquired, his tone laced with insincere charm. 

Roseline halted mid-sip of her tea, her heartbeat accelerating. "Nothing out of the ordinary." "I've been reading, tending to the garden, the typical stuff." 

His grin didn’t touch his eyes. "You've been staying to yourself quite a bit recently." "Is everything okay?" 

“Certainly,” she responded promptly, managing a smile. "Simply seeking a bit of tranquillity in this tumultuous world." 

Ronaldo reclined in his seat, observing her closely. "You have always been a sensitive being." "It must be challenging to bear so much...responsibility." 

Roseline tensed, perceiving the dual significance in his words. "I cope," she replied, her tone calm even with the tightening anxiety in her gut. 

That afternoon, Roseline quietly left to see Sam at the little cabin they picked as their secure meeting place. Tucked away in the forest, it was removed from curious gazes—or so they believed. 

The moment she spotted him, Roseline experienced a rush of relief. Sam enveloped her in a close hug, his heat briefly easing her anxieties. 

“We must act more quickly,” she said with urgency, stepping back to gaze at him. "I sense him observing me, Sam." "It's just a question of time until he discovers." 

Sam gave a nod, his teeth gritted. "I've already had a conversation with Vincent." He’s organizing all the details. “We only need to remain composed.” 

Roseline nodded slowly, anxiety seeping into her tone. "Peaceful?" Ronaldo is the most threatening individual I am aware of. "If he so much as has a hunch..." 

Sam tenderly cradled her face. "I will make sure he doesn't harm you." Or the infant. Can you hear me? "We're escaping from this." 

Their moment of peace was broken by a subtle rustling outside. Sam's head jerked toward the window, his body rigid. 

"What was that about?" 

Roseline stood still, her heart racing. "Do you believe?" 

“Stay put,” Sam declared assertively, approaching the door. 

He went outside, looking over the tree line, but noticed nothing. After a short while, he came back, his face serious. 

“It's likely just an animal,” he stated, although his tone indicated something different. 

Roseline agreed, yet a sense of discomfort enveloped her like a veil. 

Returning to the mansion, Ronaldo was seated at his desk, examining the fresh evidence that Becker had forwarded to him. Included among the photos was a recent one—Roseline and Sam departing from the cottage side by side, her hand gently placed over her stomach. 

His hold on the picture strengthened as understanding set in. The reality he had been pondering finally became evident. 

"She is expecting," he stated loudly, his tone detached and without feeling. 

The consequences were catastrophic, yet Ronaldo’s anger didn’t erupt. Instead, it brooded, ominous and perilous, as he started to devise a strategy. 

That night, Roseline came home and discovered Ronaldo in the lounge, holding a glass of wine. He glanced up when she walked in, his grin unsettling. 

“You're delayed,” he remarked nonchalantly, twirling the wine in his glass. 

Roseline compelled a laugh. "I lost my sense of time while in the garden." 

“Certainly,” Ronaldo responded, his tone even. "The yard." "A truly ideal spot for secrets to flourish." 

Her heart raced, but she succeeded in maintaining a neutral expression. "What are you trying to say?" 

Ronaldo's grin grew larger, yet his eyes were cold as ice. "Absolutely nothing, my dear." "Simply a note." 

As Roseline began to exit the room, he spoke once more, his voice halting her movement. 

"Oh, and Roseline," he remarked, his voice cutting like a knife. “Be cautious about where you roam.” Certain locations may not be as secluded as they appear. 

A chill coursed through her as she faced him, her heart racing with terror. 

What is it that he knows? she wondered, fear gathering in her gut. 

In her room upstairs, Roseline’s phone vibrated. It was a note from Sam. 

Sam: There's an issue. Vincent has been breached. 

Roseline dropped onto the bed's edge, her hands shaking as she read the text. Before she had a chance to respond, another message arrived. 

Unknown Caller: Do you believe you could escape my attention? 

Her breath was trapped in her throat. 

Then the door to her room slowly opened. 

"Roseline," Ronaldo's voice gently called, almost affectionately. "We have to discuss."