Accidental Marriage with the CEO: Unwanted Bride
Chapter 48: Go to my room

Chapter 48: Go to my room

Meanwhile, Roman carried Michelle all the way to her room, and as expected, her sister didn’t follow him. He wasn’t surprised, he suspected it was all part of their plan. What he didn’t expect was for Michelle to go as far as risking her life just to gain his attention.

He already had doubts about Patricia’s kidnapping, but after the ridiculous performance Michelle and her sister put on today, it was clear she had something to do with it.

Upon reaching her room, he laid her down on the bed and tucked her in, pulling the duvet over her with stiff hands. Just as he turned to leave, she grabbed his hand and sat up abruptly, her voice soft and pleading.

"Please... look into my eyes. Are you still angry at me?" She asked, her gaze searching his. "I truly had no hand in Patricia’s kidnapping. She’s only framing me because she hates me."

She thought she had managed to touch a nerve, to twist his feelings back in her favor. But what happened next was far from what she expected.

Roman suddenly leaned down, his hand shooting to the back of her neck. With force, he bent her head toward him, his fingers digging into her skin as he hissed into her ear.

"If she really hated you," he began, voice dangerously low, "she would have let you die on that operating table. She wouldn’t have agreed to give you CPR today either...which, let’s be honest, you didn’t even need."

His tone was sharp, bitter, laced with pure contempt. Michelle’s eyes widened in fear.

"Ahh! You are hurting me, Roman!" She cried, her voice cracking.

"This pain is nothing compared to what I would have done to you if not for your dead parents," he said, his voice full of venom. Her body trembled as the threat settled in.

She burst into tears, clearly fake but she didn’t stop. "Then kill me if you don’t believe me! I won’t stop pursuing you as long as I am alive! If you want peace, end it now!"

Roman stared at her, unflinching. "I am considering it," he said coldly. "Especially if you don’t stop pestering her."

Without warning, he shoved her away from him and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The walls trembled slightly from the impact.

Michelle screamed in frustration, jumping out of bed and thrashing everything in sight. She flipped over a chair, yanked at the curtains, and slammed her hands against the vanity.

Her sister, who hadn’t gone far and had seen Roman storming out, quickly entered the room and ran to stop her.

"Control your anger," she whispered harshly, holding her tightly. "This is not game over yet. We have two 13 more days on this yacht. Only one of you will leave this place with Roman, and that’s going to be you."

Michelle collapsed into her sister’s arms, breathing heavily, her chest heaving with sobs that were half real, half fueled by rage.

"I want him, sister," she cried out, her voice raw.

"You will," her sister promised, stroking her hair as they sat on the floor together. "I promise you."

Meanwhile, Roman was still fuming as he made his way toward Patricia’s room. His steps were fast, unrelenting, his fists clenched at his sides. He couldn’t get the image of Patricia out of his head, how she had been forced to save the very woman who tried to kill her. It enraged him.

And worst of all, it made him furious at himself.

He didn’t care anymore if he was falling for her. The truth was plain: Patricia belonged to him. She was his to protect, to claim. He should never have pushed her away. Never tried to hate her in honor of the promise he made to that old woman.

Because deep down, he had always known the truth and he would never be able to resist the urge to possess her.

And remembering their discussion earlier only made him angrier. He could have any investor he wanted but all he wanted was her. She wasn’t going anywhere, and he wasn’t giving her any divorce.

"Boss, you need to change, you are dripping!" Kay, who stumbled upon him, said. That was when Roman finally noticed how soaked and disheveled he looked.

"Let’s go," he muttered, deciding to change first. They walked off without another word.

...

In Patricia’s room, she sat quietly, staring into the fireplace as different thoughts swirled in her mind. She often wondered if things would have turned out differently had her marriage not been altered. Speaking of which, she hadn’t seen Collin since they arrived. But then again, she had barely stepped out of her room, and tonight was too dark to spot anyone even if she had.

Her family might have been among the crowd earlier, but knowing the old woman, she would never step out unless it involved her most hated granddaughter, which, unfortunately, was her.

As Patricia shifted her position on the couch, she suddenly heard the window creak open. A cold gust of wind swept in, causing her to shiver. It was strange, the wind was not strong enough to open the window. Alarmed, she stood up and glanced around. Seeing nothing suspicious, she moved to lock it, but before she could take a step, a voice spoke from behind her.

"Hi."

She flinched and screamed, but the intruder quickly covered her mouth and pulled her into a hug from behind.

"It’s me, Syres," he whispered.

Her breathing slowed as she realized who it was. He removed his hand from her mouth and let go, allowing her to turn and face him.

"What are you doing here? It’s late," she said, her tone filled with disappointment. Thanks to Roman and his sister’s conversation that she overheard, she figured Syres must be on the yacht, but she had hoped he wouldn’t approach her in such a crowded place. That assumption had clearly been wrong.

"I got tired of waiting," he said, flashing a flirtatious smile. "I just wanted to see your face."

"You shouldn’t be here," she warned, moving to grab his hand, "There are too many people on this yacht. If anyone sees us, rumors will start."

But before she could guide him to the door, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into him.

Her eyes widened. She was about to scold him and pull herself free when the door suddenly flung open.

Standing there was Roman, and the fury in his eyes made the room feel ten degrees colder.

Even in the soft lighting of the yacht, Patricia could clearly see the unrestrained rage on his face.

"Oh, look who’s here," Syres taunted, smirking as he intentionally tightened his grip around her waist, making sure Roman saw it.

Roman slammed the door behind him and stormed forward without a word. His fist connected hard with Syres’ face, the blow knocking his grip loose and forcing him to stumble back.

Patricia gasped as Roman grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him protectively.

"Stay away from her," Roman growled, glaring daggers at Syres with such venom it could burn.

"Or what?" Syres shot back, unfazed, slipping his hands into his pockets as he returned Roman’s stare with equal intensity.

Without looking away, Roman instructed Patricia. "Go to my room."

"But..." she started.

"I said go to my room," he repeated, his voice cold and commanding.

Realizing there was no point in arguing, Patricia sighed and slowly walked away, her heart pounding with unease.