Demanding for Truth.
1978 Words
Chapter 5
Demanding for Truth.
"Enough with the games, Rose. Who the hell is ‘he’?"
Donald’s voice sliced through the thick air of the dimly lit study, each word sharp and accusatory. He stood there, eyes dark with suspicion, his presence almost overwhelming.
Rose took a deep breath, forcing her face to remain a mask of calm. She was skilled at deception, but Donald had a knack for sniffing out the truth.
"You’re making something out of nothing," she replied, keeping her tone steady.
Donald’s fingers tapped impatiently on his desk, his patience wearing thin. "Am I?" He pulled out his phone, tapping the screen with purpose. "Because this message says otherwise."
He held it up, revealing the text that had nearly unraveled her entire world.
"You can’t hide him forever."
Rose felt her heart race, pounding against her chest.
"A prank," she blurted out. "Just someone trying to stir up trouble."
Donald let out a low, humorless laugh. "You really think I’m that naive?"
She bit her cheek, desperate to think of something—anything—to say.
"You’re just being paranoid," she finally said.
Donald’s jaw tightened. "And you’re lying."
Silence hung between them, thick and heavy.
He stepped closer, invading her space.
"I’ll ask you one last time, Rose. Who. Is. He?"
She met his gaze, unwavering. "No one."
And then—
CRASH!
Donald’s glass of whiskey shattered against the wall, sending shards flying in every direction.
Rose flinched but stood her ground.
"You want to play this game?" His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Fine. But remember—I always win."
Her breath caught in her throat. She needed to end this conversation, and fast.
"Then go ahead, Donald. Dig all you want. But you won’t find anything."
A flicker of something sharp and dangerous flashed in his eyes.
Then, to her surprise, he smiled.
"We’ll see about that."
With that, he turned on his heel and strode out, leaving Rose amidst the wreckage of his fury.
Her legs felt weak beneath her.
He was getting too close.
And if Donald Taylor ever found out the truth about Vixin—
She would lose everything.
That night, Donald didn’t come home.
The following day, as Donald stepped into the room, he sensed he had walked straight into a tempest.
Rose stood there, arms crossed, her eyes blazing with anger.
"Where have you been?" Her voice was eerily calm.
Donald loosened his tie, brushing her off as he made his way to the dresser. "It’s late, Rose. Just go to bed."
Her fingers tightened into fists. "That’s not an answer."
He let out a weary sigh, rubbing his temple. "I don’t owe you one."
Big mistake.
Before he could even process it, a glass whizzed past his head, shattering against the wall.
Donald spun around, his eyes narrowing. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Rose stepped closer, her breath quickening. "What’s wrong with me?" she spat. "My husband strolls in at two in the morning, reeking of another woman, and I’m just supposed to act like everything’s okay?"
Donald let out a dry laugh. "You’re acting like this is a real marriage."
Those words hit her like a knife.
"And you’re acting like you didn’t agree to it," Rose shot back. "Did I force you into this? No! You stood at that altar and said ‘I do’ just like I did."
He moved closer, closing the gap between them in an instant.
"I stood at that altar expecting Stephanie."
Silence fell like a heavy curtain.
Rose’s breath caught in her throat.
"That’s the truth, isn’t it?" Donald continued, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "I wasn’t supposed to marry you. I didn’t choose you. And no matter how much you pretend, you know damn well you weren’t meant to be here."
Her heart raced, but she stood her ground.
"And yet, here I am," she said, lifting her chin defiantly.
Donald’s lips twisted into a cold smirk. "Yes, you are. But for how long, Rose?"
Her stomach churned.
"Is that a threat?"
He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. “It's a warning.”
The air between them was thick with unspoken tension—rage, pain, and something darker that neither dared to name.
Then, the door swung open with a bang.
"Enough!"
Evelyn Taylor, Donald’s mother, stood in the doorway, her face contorted with barely contained anger.
Rose tensed up.
"I will not let this house become a battleground," Evelyn snapped. "Donald, get out of the room."
Donald’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. He simply turned and walked away in silence.
Rose barely had a moment to feel relieved before Evelyn's piercing gaze landed on her.
"You will not ruin my son’s life, do you hear me?" Her voice was as cold as ice.
Rose’s nails dug into her palms. "Ruin his life?" she echoed, incredulous. "Do you even know what kind of man your son is?"
Evelyn stepped closer, lowering her voice to a deadly whisper. "I know my son far better than you ever will, little girl. And I also know that whatever game you’re playing, it won’t end well for you."
Rose’s breath hitched.
"What exactly are you accusing me of?"
A slow, knowing smile crept across Evelyn's lips. "I think you already know the answer to that."
A chill ran down Rose’s spine.
Could she know about Vixin?
Before Rose could respond, Evelyn pivoted on her heel, her voice echoing through the room—
"I suggest you learn your place, Rose. Before Donald discovers the truth on his own."
And just like that, she was gone.
Leaving Rose standing there, breathless, shaken… and utterly terrified.
The Taylor mansion was thick with tension. The echoes of the heated confrontation between Rose and Donald still hung in the air like smoke from a raging fire.
“You are impossible!” Rose had shouted, her chest heaving with anger.
Donald’s cold stare had pierced through her. “And you are a mistake I was forced to accept.”
Those words had cut deep, leaving a wound she refused to show.
Before she could respond, Evelyn Taylor’s voice sliced through the air once more.
“That’s enough, both of you.”
Donald turned away, snatching his keys without a second thought.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Rose demanded, her voice sharp.
Donald didn’t even glance back. “Somewhere quieter,” he replied, his tone dismissive.
And just like that—he vanished.
That night, he didn’t come home.
The Perfect Betrayal
The Taylor mansion was eerily quiet, but the air was thick with tension. Days had passed since Rose was forced into marrying Donald, and even though they shared the same roof, they felt like complete strangers. He hardly looked at her, spoke to her—only when absolutely necessary.
But tonight, everything was about to change.
A sudden knock at the door jolted Rose from her thoughts.
“Ma’am,” a maid said, her voice hesitant. “You need to come downstairs. There’s… a situation.”
With a frown, Rose followed her through the dimly lit hallways, her heart racing with anxiety. As she entered the grand living room, she froze in place.
Donald stood by the fireplace, his intense gaze fixed on a man lounging on the couch. The stranger looked disheveled, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, hair tousled, and worst of all—he smirked when he caught sight of Rose.
Her heart raced. Something was definitely off.
“Rose.” Donald’s voice was low, controlled. Too controlled. “Can you explain why this man was found leaving your room?”
Shock washed over her. “What?”
The man chuckled nervously. “Come on, sweetheart. No need to play coy. We had a blast last night.”
Rose’s stomach plummeted. This was a setup.
She turned, and there stood Valeria.
Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, her eyes sparkled with mischief.
“You should be ashamed,” Valeria said, shaking her head in mock disappointment. “Married for just a few days, and you’re already sneaking men into your room?”
“I didn’t!” Rose shot back. “I don’t even know him!”
The man laughed. “That’s not what you said last night.”
Donald’s expression darkened, his jaw clenched tight.
Rose glanced at the maid, who quickly averted her gaze. She was in on this too.
“This is a lie,” Rose insisted, her voice trembling. “Someone set this up—”
“Then why was he seen sneaking out of your room?” Valeria interrupted smoothly.
The maid saw it. Even security confirmed it.
Rose’s breath caught in her throat. They had orchestrated this flawlessly.
Donald let out a slow breath, stepping closer. “Tell me the truth, Rose.”
She looked at him, desperation etched on her face. “I am.”
Silence hung in the air.
To her surprise, he didn’t tell her to leave.
Instead, he turned to the guards. “Get him out.”
The man’s smirk faded as security seized him. “Wait—”
“Now,” Donald commanded, his tone icy and resolute.
As the guards dragged the man away, Valeria’s smirk faltered, barely concealing her annoyance. This wasn’t the reaction she had anticipated from Donald.
Once they were alone, Donald faced Rose again. His expression was inscrutable, his gaze sharp and calculating.
“I don’t trust you,” he finally said, his voice low. “But I won’t base my decisions on mere accusations.”
Rose felt her throat tighten. “You believe me?”
“I didn’t say that.” His tone was frigid. “But I don’t take everything Valeria says at face value either.”
Rose swallowed hard. She had narrowly escaped… for now.
But one thing was certain—Valeria wasn’t finished.
And next time, she would ensure there was no way out.
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A Web of Lies
Sleep was a distant memory for Rose. She wandered the halls, a gnawing sense of dread creeping up her spine.
Something just didn’t feel right.
She had to uncover the truth.
Her instincts guided her to Donald’s study—a place he strictly forbade her from entering alone.
As she scanned the bookshelves, her fingers brushed against the smooth wood.
Then—click.
A faint noise.
Her heart raced as she pulled open a hidden compartment.
Inside was a thick, locked folder.
Her hands trembled as she rifled through the desk for a key. It took only moments to find it.
With a sharp intake of breath, she clicked it open.
And then—
Her blood ran cold.
Photographs. Documents. Reports detailing "accidental deaths" and "disappearances."
All linked to Donald.
One symbol kept surfacing—a serpent coiled around a dagger.
Recognition hit her like a freight train.
The Black Serpents.
An elite underground assassin syndicate.
Her stomach churned as she scanned the names of the targets.
Politicians. CEOs. Rivals. People who had vanished without a trace.
Donald… her husband… was a trained killer.
She gripped the desk, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.
Had Robert known about this when he forced her into marriage?
Was this the reason Donald was so untouchable in the business world?
And just when she thought she had unearthed his darkest secret—
She heard whispers.
A soft gasp. A hushed moan.
Turning the corner, she saw them.
Valeria—Donald’s sister.
And Father Gabriel—the priest who had stood with them at the altar.
The weight of the discoveryl hit her like a freight train.
Valeria, the proud, untouchable heiress, entangled in a sinful romance with a man of the church?
But she barely had time to process it before Valeria’s voice sent a chill through her.
- Writer
