Chapter 78

The only sound in the room was the door closing behind Ronaldo. Like a gavel hitting a judge's bench, it felt final. Despite all her instincts telling her to turn away, Roseline forced herself to look into his eyes. The tension in the air was oppressive, and his dark eyes glinted with controlled rage.

"I'm not sure what you believe you've found," she said, sounding softer than she meant to. Her knuckles were white as she held onto the edge of the vanity table behind her. "But you're wrong."

Ronaldo laughed softly and without humour. He put a small envelope on the table between them and stepped forward, his polished shoes silent against the plush carpet. "Mistaken?" he repeated in a derisive tone. "How about we look into that?"

Roseline stared at the envelope while her heart pounded painfully. She knew what was inside without having to open it. Pictures. Proof. Evidence of the meetings she had meticulously attempted to conceal.

His presence loomed as he leaned closer. "Roseline, do you know what's worse than lying?" His voice gliding over her skin like a blade, he asked. "A liar who believes that I am a fool."

She struggled to maintain her composure even though her breath caught. "Anything you believe you know—"

With a sudden interruption and a voice that was just high enough to make her wince, Ronaldo said, "What I *know* is that you've been sneaking off like some desperate teenager." The reason is something I don't yet know. Roseline, are you plotting against me? Making a plot? He hesitated, a sour smile curling his lips. "Or is it more...pathetic?"

The heat of defiance pierced her fear as she straightened her back. "You're wasting your time if you believe that insulting me will get you answers."

There was silence for a moment. Ronaldo then chuckled once more, this time with a colder tone. "Brave," he whispered. "However, you are not as intelligent as you believe yourself to be." He took another envelope out of his pocket and tossed it on the table. The sight of this one made her stomach turn; it was thicker.

He leaned back and said, "Go on," with a confidence that made her feel cold. “Open it.”

Her trembling fingers disobeyed her mind’s command to stay still. She picked up the envelope, dread pooling in her chest as she peeled it open. Her worst fears were confirmed. More pictures—of her and Sam, too close, too close, too close. One was the one where Sam gently brushed a lock of her hair back. The next photo caught her hand resting on his chest. Unquestionably, those moments were intimate.

Ronaldo said, "I followed you, Roseline," in a softer but no less menacing tone. Technically speaking, I had you followed. As usual, my instincts were correct when they warned me something wasn't right.

"I can clarify—"

"Avoid it." His order sliced like a whip through her speech. "I don't require your justifications. I must know the truth.

Roseline's thoughts were racing, trying to find a way to minimise what he had witnessed. However, the reality weighed heavily on her chest. The intimacy in those pictures was undeniable. The proof was incriminating.

"Who is he?" It was even more terrifying when Ronaldo asked in a calm, low voice. "A romantic partner? A fellow conspirator? Both?

"He's neither," Roseline said, detesting the feebleness of her tone. "He's just a person who—"

“Who what?” Ronaldo barked, stepping closer. “Who do you trust more than your husband? Someone you think can protect you from me?” He scoffed. “You’re playing a dangerous game, my dear. Furthermore, you are unaware of the rules.

Her heart was beating so rapidly that she was afraid she might pass out. "Why haven't you taken action if you are so sure that I have deceived you?" She pushed back, making her voice steady. "Roseno, what do you want from me?"

He cocked his head, his eyes calculating and keen. My goal is to comprehend *why*. I've given my wife everything, so why would she risk losing it all for *this*? He waved at the pictures as if they were not important enough. "Are you in love with him?"

The question was like a slap to her. In an attempt to defuse the situation, she opened her mouth to deny it and say anything. However, the words refused to come.

Ronaldo's lips curled into a ruthless smile as his eyes narrowed. "Ah," he uttered quietly. That's it, then. You believe that you love him. His voice trailed off to a whisper as he moved closer. "Do you think he feels the same way about you? Enough to protect you from me?”

“Leave him out of this,” Roseline said quickly, her voice firmer than before. “He has nothing to do with us.”

Ronaldo’s expression darkened. “Oh, but he does. You’ve made sure of that.” He reached out and traced a finger down her cheek, his touch both mocking and possessive. “You forget, Roseline. I own you. And those who fail to remember that will come to regret it.

She slapped his hand away before she could think better of it, her defiance bubbling to the surface. "I am not your possession."

He stopped smiling, and she briefly feared he was going to hit her. Instead, he took a step back, his expression icy calm. "Not my property," he said again. "We'll check on that."

As he pivoted on his heel and strode to the door, Roseline's blood turned cold. He looked over his shoulder before he left. Roseline, take this as your warning. I will not put up with treachery.

With a heavy thud, the door closed, leaving her alone in the oppressive quiet. Her mind was racing with anger and fear, and her hands were shaking as she gripped the pictures. He was aware. Even though he didn't know everything, he knew enough to ruin Sam and ruin her.

She collapsed onto the bed's edge, her mind racing. She had underestimated Ronaldo’s cunning, his reach. Now, the stakes were higher than ever.

A faint sound drew her attention. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with Sam’s name. She hesitated before answering, her voice barely above a whisper. “Sam?”

"There's a problem, Roseline," he said frantically. "Becker has been observing me." Ronaldo is probably right on the money.

She gasped. "He is aware, Sam. Tonight, he confronted me. He has pictures.

A long pause ensued. Despite the tension, Sam's voice remained steady as he stated, "Then we don't have time." "We must depart. Right now.

Roseline swallowed forcefully, covering her stomach with her free hand for protection. "Sam, he's observing me. If I attempt to depart—

"We'll work it out," he cut in. However, we are unable to wait any longer. There, you and the infant are not safe.

For a moment, Roseline thought the call had dropped, and then the line crackled and went silent. Then, in the distance, she heard a voice, but it wasn't Sam's.

"I am aware that you are concealing her," the voice snarled. "Where is she?"

The heart stopped in Roseline. "Sam?" She muttered. "Who is present?"

The line died before he could respond.