Marriage with my daughter's father: Darling please be gentle - Chapter 198

Chapter 198: Chapter 198: Play our cards
Rita was plagued by sleepless nights, her mind a storm of frustration and helplessness. No matter how hard she tried, Roger remained an enigma—completely out of reach. He had cut off every avenue she might use to contact him.

The company’s security barred her entry, her calls to his assistant were met with polite but firm refusals, and every message she sent vanished into the void.

It was as if Roger had built an unbreakable wall around himself—one that she was powerless to breach.

The relentless rejection gnawed at her, leaving her anxious and on edge. Her once-steady composure began to crack, the isolation threatening to suffocate her.

But the final blow came the next morning—delivered by a courier in a crisp envelope. Divorce papers.

Rita’s hands trembled as she unfolded them, her eyes scanning the cold, impersonal language that severed their union without a hint of remorse. Anger flared within her, scorching away her helplessness. She refused to be discarded like a forgotten relic.

Determined, she stormed to Roger’s company once again. But the moment she stepped out of her car, the security guard blocked her path.

“I’m sorry, madam, but the boss has strictly instructed us not to let you in,” the guard stated firmly, his voice respectful but unwavering.

Rita’s rage erupted. Without a second thought, she slapped the guard, the sharp sound echoing through the lobby. Gasps rippled through the bystanders.

“How dare you talk to me like that?! Do you know who I am?!” She shrieked, her mask of calm composure shattered, exposing a simmering fury.

The guard’s head bowed, humiliation washing over him, but he stood his ground.

Just as Rita raised her hand again, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“Madam, the boss wants to meet you,” Roger’s assistant announced, his tone polite but cautious.

Rita’s anger cooled just enough for her to follow the assistant, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. She was led to Roger’s private office, the door swinging open to reveal Roger seated at his desk, his gaze cold and unreadable.

“Rita,” Roger began, his voice calm, almost bored. “I see your theatrics haven’t changed. Attacking my staff now?”

“Don’t you dare lecture me!” Rita snapped, her fists clenching. “How dare you send me divorce papers without even facing me?”

Roger leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on the polished surface. “Because I have nothing left to say to you, Rita. This marriage was nothing but a responsibility forced on me.”

“A responsibility?” she echoed, her voice trembling. “After everything we built? The life we shared?”

“Built?” Roger let out a short, humorless laugh. “The life you manipulated? The lies you spun? Rita, the only thing you built was a web of deceit. One I have no intention of being trapped in anymore.”

Her face paled, but she forced herself to stay defiant. “What lies are you talking about, Roger?” she fumbled as her heart began to race wrongly.

“And what about your grandfather? You promise to look after me before him.”

“And now I break that promise because I no longer see myself getting tangled into something that was built on lies,” Roger replied, his voice steady. “I’ve wasted enough time caring about someone who did nothing but deceive. And now I want freedom from this toxic, loveless marriage. And I will have it.”

Rita’s eyes stung, a mix of anger and desperation clouding her vision. “Is this because of Lily?” she demanded, her voice cracking. “You’re leaving me because of her. Did she seduce you with her lies and beauty?”

Her accusation was sharp, venomous—fueled by the lingering echoes of Lily’s words that haunted her thoughts.

A flicker of something passed through Roger’s gaze—annoyance, perhaps even pity. But it vanished just as quickly.

“What if I say yes?” he replied, rising from his chair.

Rita’s face drained of color, but she refused to look away as he stepped toward her, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her. His eyes were dark, unyielding.

“But you’re mistaken, Rita. She never seduced me—because I was the one who fell for her.”

Silence settled between them, thick and suffocating.

Roger’s voice softened, a hint of regret lacing his words. “I admired Lily for her kindness, her honesty… everything you tried to mimic but never truly possessed. The only mistake I made was never telling her how much she meant to me until it was too late.”

His words cut through her, and Rita’s fingers curled into fists. “How dare you speak of another woman before me, Roger? You married me because of what happened between us. You promised to be loyal to me before our families. How can you just forget that and choose divorce?”

Roger’s arms were crossed over his chest, his demeanor calm but his gaze like cold steel. “Loyalty?” he repeated, his voice laced with a quiet fury. “Do you even know the meaning of the word?”

She stood her ground, defiant. “I have always been loyal to you!”

His bitter laugh echoed in the room. “Loyal? Do you think I’m blind? Or a fool?” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “The more I look back, the clearer everything becomes. That night… the night Lily left the city. The rumors, the misunderstandings—they all seem less like a tragic accident and more like a carefully laid trap.”

Rita’s confident façade faltered. “W-What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your schemes, Rita. The perfectly timed photos, the whispered lies… all designed to turn me against her. To make her believe I betrayed her.”

Her breath quickened. “That’s not true!”

“Is it? Then tell me, Rita—why did you send those pictures to her in the first place?” Roger’s voice was a low, dangerous rumble, his eyes piercing through her. “Why did I suddenly start feeling dizzy after you handed me a drink at the graduation party? And why… why did we end up at a hotel room and not at my home?”

The accusations sliced through the air like blades, and for the first time, a flicker of true fear danced across Rita’s face. Her palms grew clammy, and her breath quickened, but she forced herself to maintain her defiant posture.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she spat, desperation lacing her voice. “You think I planned everything? That I would stoop so low just to get into your bed? All you ever did was take advantage of me!”

But her words rang hollow, her bravado cracking beneath the weight of his unwavering gaze.

Roger’s jaw tightened, his fury barely restrained. “Advantage?” he echoed, his voice laced with icy contempt.

“I was the one who was drugged, Rita. Not you. I remember it now—the dizziness, the confusion, everything blurring together. But you… you were perfectly fine. Clear-headed. Calculating.”

Rita’s pulse raced, her mind scrambling for a defense. “That’s a lie! You were drunk and I was just trying to help you!”

“By taking me to the hotel instead of home?” Roger couldn’t help but laugh.

Rita felt as though every one of her lies was being effortlessly unraveled by Roger. Panic twisted inside her, but all she wanted in that moment was to gather whatever courage she had left and cling to him.

“What is wrong with you, Roger? Why are you acting like this? Is this all Lily’s doing? I know she’s trying to steal you from me!” Rita’s voice rose, her accusations turning desperate.

Roger recoiled, pushing her away. Even her touch felt like filth against his skin.

“Steal?” He scoffed. “That’s the difference between you and Lily. You always try to blame others instead of owning up to your actions. Lily doesn’t.”

Rita’s expression darkened, her hands curling into fists as Roger continued to defend Lily.

“Fine, let me be clear, Roger,” she hissed. “No matter what happens, I will never divorce you. You are my husband, and I will make sure Lily and the entire world know that.”

With that venomous promise, Rita spun on her heel and stormed out of the office, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.

As the door slammed shut, Roger’s expression hardened. He pulled out his phone, dialing a familiar number.

“Keep an eye on Rita,” he ordered, his tone cold and decisive. “Make sure she doesn’t do anything reckless against Lily.”

***

After the humiliating encounter with David, Eric drove aimlessly until the neon lights of a bar beckoned him. Needing an escape, he stepped inside, where the dim lighting and quiet murmurs offered a temporary refuge. At the far end of the bar, Alexander was already seated, his expression calm and composed as always, a stark contrast to the chaos that surrounded them.

The news blared from the television above, headlines screaming the downfall of Greyson International. The empire they had once coveted was now crumbling—ironically, without much of their interference.

Eric sank into the seat beside his father, ordering a drink. He stared at the amber liquid before taking a long sip, letting the burn settle his nerves.

“We’re fighting a lost battle, Father,” he muttered, his voice thick with resignation. “We wanted the Greyson empire, but look at it now—falling apart without us lifting a finger.”

Alexander’s lips curled into a faint, unreadable smile. “Perhaps it was never meant to be ours, Eric. Or perhaps it is merely undergoing a necessary purge.”

Eric frowned, frustration simmering beneath his calm facade. “Purge? It’s collapsing. What good is a kingdom reduced to ashes?”

“A kingdom in ashes is only a foundation for something new,” Alexander replied, swirling his drink thoughtfully. “Only those with vision can see past the ruins.”

Eric leaned back, staring at his father with a mix of awe and bitterness. “You always sound so wise, but all I see is a dream dying.”

“Dreams only die when we stop chasing them, Eric,” Alexander said, his voice measured. “We need to decide—will we watch Greyson burn, or will we rise from its ashes?”

Eric’s grip tightened around his glass. “What do you mean?” he asked, struggling to decipher his father’s cryptic words. But the moment Alexander’s sharp gaze met his, a spark ignited in his steely eyes.

“It’s time to play our cards, Eric,” Alexander murmured, his voice calm but laced with a quiet intensity.

Eric froze, his heart pounding against his chest. The room seemed to shrink around them, the distant chatter of the bar fading into a dull hum. He recognized that look—cold, calculating, and utterly fearless.

Alexander leaned forward, a faint, dangerous smile curving his lips. “We’ve watched the empire teeter on the edge. Now we decide whether to watch it fall… or seize it for ourselves.”

A chill ran down Eric’s spine, but a twisted sense of excitement stirred within him.