chapter 83

Roseline stirred awake to the noise of her bedroom door slowly opening. Her heart raced as she instinctively sat upright, holding the blanket tightly to her chest. The faint glow from the corridor highlighted Ronaldo’s towering silhouette as he entered, his face inscrutable. 

"You’re awake early," she remarked, keeping her tone calm. 

He delayed his response, his keen eyes examining the room as if looking for something amiss. When his gaze finally met hers, a chilling smile pulled at the edges of his mouth. 

"I couldn’t get any sleep," he remarked, his voice relaxed yet tinged with a strain that made her uneasy. 

Ronaldo stepped nearer, his aura dominating the still room. He paused at the base of her bed, his fingers gliding along the ornate wooden post. "I've been reflecting on our relationship a lot recently." 

Roseline gulped, her thoughts racing. "Really?" "What do you think?" 

He inclined his head, examining her like a predator assessing its quarry. "Regarding how far away you've been." Concerning the untruths you’ve been sharing with me. 

Her stomach tightened, but she maintained a neutral expression. "I have no idea what you mean, Ronaldo." 

He laughed quietly, a noise lacking in amusement. "Don’t act clueless, Roseline." I sense that something is happening. You've been seeing Sam. "Did you honestly believe I wouldn't discover the truth?" 

Her breath caught, yet she swiftly regained composure, putting on a puzzled frown. "Sam?" I have only encountered him a few times, and there was nothing improper. "You’re feeling overly suspicious." 

Ronaldo moved closer, his face just inches away from hers. "Don't deceive me," he whispered. "I've had someone tail you, Roseline." "I’m aware that you’ve been sneaking off, confiding in him, scheming something without my knowledge." 

Roseline’s heart raced so intensely that she was convinced he could hear it. "If you're tracking me, then you already know the reality." Sam has been assisting me with the pregnancy. "That's everything." 

"The pregnancy," Ronaldo echoed, his tone filled with sarcasm. "Fascinating how you've managed to hide that small detail from me for such a long time." What’s the reason for that, Roseline? "Worried I might not think it's mine?" 

Her response to his accusation felt like a tangible impact. She fumbled for an answer, her thoughts a tumultuous mix of anxiety and urgency. "I didn't mention it to you because I was uncertain about your response," she replied, her voice quaking slightly to seem believable. "You've been quite... unpredictable recently." 

Ronaldo stood up straight, narrowing his eyes. "Do you believe I wouldn’t see how you recoil whenever I reach for you?" Why do you stay away from me like it's contagious? You’re concealing something, Roseline. "And I will discover what it is." 

"Perhaps if you were less controlling, I wouldn’t feel inclined to hide things from you!" she retorted, the words escaping before she could restrain them. 

For a brief period, silence felt dense in the atmosphere. Then Ronaldo's hand darted forward, grasping her wrist tightly enough to make her flinch. 

"You’re treading a delicate path," he remarked, his tone ominously subdued. "I recommend that you consider your next action thoroughly." 

Roseline locked eyes with him, her fear intertwined with resistance. "Please let me go," she whispered. 

To her astonishment, he let her go, retreating as if the sudden eruption had pleased him. He gazed at her for a lengthy moment before shifting his gaze to the door. 

"This is not finished," he said, his voice steady yet full of threat. "Far from it." 

Once he left, Roseline fell back onto the bed, tears streaming down her face. Her mask was breaking, and she was aware of it. Ronaldo was getting closer, and it was just a matter of time until he revealed the truth. 

That same day, Roseline got a text from Sam. 

Sam: "All plans are still on for tonight." "Are you alright?" 

Roseline: "Ronaldo is aware of something." He’s trailing me, interrogating me. "I'm unsure how much longer I can maintain this." 

Sam: "Follow the strategy." "We'll rescue you from that place." 

Roseline paused briefly before answering. Roseline: "I'm afraid, Sam." "He’s not going to allow me to leave without a struggle." 

The following evening, while Roseline got ready for the escape, Ronaldo's conduct became increasingly disturbing. He stayed in the house's shadows, observing her every action. During dinner, his manner was disturbingly cordial, his phrases tinged with understated menaces. 

"You've been silent recently," he remarked, cutting into his steak skillfully. "I wish you weren’t feeling sick." 

“I’m okay,” she answered, putting on a smile. 

"Very well," he remarked, his eyes fixed on her expression. "Because I would dislike believing you were hiding something from me." 

Her hold on the fork became firmer. "I have shared all the information there is with you, Ronaldo." 

"Have you?" he whispered, his grin unsettling. 

Following dinner, Roseline withdrew to her room, her nerves frayed to the limit. She meticulously packed her bag, ensuring no trace was left behind. While looking out the window, she noticed Sam's car parked subtly down the street. 

Her heart lifted and plummeted at the same time. The strategy was underway, yet the danger was significant. 

Abruptly, her door opened wide, and Ronaldo entered the room. He glanced at the little bag on the bed, then returned his gaze to her. 

“Are you heading somewhere?” he inquired, his tone a perilous blend of interest and frustration. 

Roseline stood still, her thoughts racing for a justification. "I was merely arranging a few items," she replied, her tone calm even with the fear running through her. 

Ronaldo moved in closer, his gaze sharpening. "Falsehood." 

Before she had a chance to reply, his phone vibrated. He looked at the screen, his face growing. Silent, he pivoted and exited the room, his actions quick and determined. 

Roseline seized the chance to pick up her bag and sneak out through the side entrance. Her heart raced as she rushed to Sam’s car, her breaths coming in uneven bursts. 

However, as she approached the vehicle, a hand grasped her shoulder, turning her around. 

Ronaldo faced her, his expression a mask of rage. 

"You genuinely believed you could escape from me?" he snarled, his hold growing stronger. 

Roseline's reality shifted when she understood her escape had been jeopardized. The evening air appeared to turn icy around her, and her meticulously crafted plan started to fall apart.