Marriage with my daughter's father: Darling please be gentle - Chapter 202

Chapter 202: Chapter 202: You have to help us
“Let us explain—” Beatrix’s voice was a desperate plea, but the fire in Sylvester’s bloodshot eyes silenced her.

“Explain?” Sylvester’s voice was a low, seething growl. “Is there anything left to explain, Beatrix? Because as far as I know, you’ve done more than just deceive me.”

Beatrix’s face went deathly pale, her composure cracking. A tremor ran through her as Sylvester’s accusation crashed over her like a tidal wave.

“You’ve been drugging Richard,” Sylvester continued, his words sharp as knives. “Keeping him sick, stopping his recovery, and feeding him medication that only deteriorates his health.”

The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with shock and disbelief. Beatrix’s carefully woven mask of innocence began to crumble.

“W-What… what are you talking about?” She stammered, trying to muster some semblance of composure. “I… I would never do such a thing. You must be mistaken.”

“Mistaken?” Sylvester’s voice rose, a raw edge of fury breaking through. “Stop pretending, Beatrix! I’ve seen the medical reports. I’ve spoken to the doctors—doctors you handpicked to keep me in the dark.”

Beatrix staggered back, her legs weak beneath her. Her mind raced, clawing for a way out of the noose tightening around her. She had been so careful, so meticulous in maintaining her charade. But Sylvester’s sudden revelation shattered her illusion of control.

“You think I’m blind? You think I wouldn’t notice my friend, my brother in all but blood, wasting away under your so-called care?” Sylvester’s voice broke, a mix of grief and rage. “All this time, I thought I was protecting his family. But I was just a pawn in your sick game!”

“Sylvester, please! You have to understand—” Beatrix tried again, but her voice faltered.

“Understand what?” Sylvester snapped. “That you saw Richard as a burden? That you were willing to destroy his life just to maintain control over everything he built? Or was it simply greed that drove you to keep him weak and silent?”

Tears pooled in Beatrix’s eyes, but they did little to stir sympathy in the room. The others watched in stunned silence, unable to look away from the horrifying truth unraveling before them.

Sylvester’s gaze never left her, his face a mask of disappointment and fury. “You have stolen everything from him—his health, his freedom, even his dignity. But no more. I will see that you pay for what you’ve done, Beatrix.”

The finality in his words sent a chill down Beatrix’s spine. The web of lies she had so carefully spun was now a tangled noose around her neck.

“I want you and your daughter out of this house and out of my grandson’s life.” Sylvester’s voice was a cold, unforgiving decree, each word laced with finality.

Rita and Beatrix stood frozen, shock etched on their faces. But while Beatrix’s face remained pale with fear, Rita’s shock quickly turned to desperation.

“No… no, please!” Rita’s voice broke as she stumbled forward, rushing to Roger’s side. “Roger, please! Don’t do this to me. I love you—please, I love you!”

Tears streamed down her face, genuine this time, fueled by fear and despair. Her carefully constructed lies had crumbled, but her obsession with Roger remained—a twisted, suffocating attachment she refused to let go of.

But Roger’s expression was a mask of cold contempt. Without a word, he grabbed her wrists, yanking her away from him with such force that she stumbled, falling to the marble floor.

“Love?” His voice was a bitter laugh, a mocking echo that seemed to fill the room. “How can you claim to love me when you couldn’t even love your own child, Rita?”

Rita’s sobs faltered, her eyes wide with shock.

“And now I wonder,” Roger continued, his voice sharp enough to cut. “Was that miscarriage really an accident? Or did you just get rid of a child you never wanted?”

His accusation struck Rita like a physical blow, the air leaving her lungs. Her cries died in her throat, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

Rita felt everything falling apart, her carefully constructed world crumbling to dust around her. Desperation twisted inside her, a suffocating darkness swallowing her sanity. But then her tear-filled gaze settled on Lily, and something in her snapped—rage flared to life, burning away her despair.

“It’s all because of her… It’s all her fault,” Rita whispered, her voice low and venomous. Her trembling fingers clenched, and without a second thought, she surged to her feet. “If she thinks she can steal my happiness—then I’ll make sure she never gets hers.”

Her wild eyes landed on the knife resting beside the fruit basket on the table. Her hand shot out, seizing the cold metal handle, her grip white-knuckled.

“You bitch!” Rita’s voice rang out, a manic scream tearing through the air. She lunged toward Lily, the blade glinting under the harsh light.

Time seemed to slow. Gasps filled the room, fear flashing across Lily’s face as Rita’s frenzied figure bore down on her.

But then—

“No!” Roger’s voice roared like thunder, and in a heartbeat, he was between them. His arms spread wide to shield Lily, his eyes locked with Rita’s crazed glare.

The blade met resistance—a wet, sickening sound following a heartbeat later.

Roger’s body jerked, a sharp gasp escaping his lips. Blood blossomed across his chest, staining his shirt, the knife buried in his flesh. His knees buckled, and he staggered back, his shocked gaze falling to the crimson stain spreading beneath Rita’s trembling hand.

“R-Roger?” Rita’s voice was a hollow whisper, her rage evaporating, replaced by horror. “No… no, I didn’t… I didn’t mean—”

Lily screamed, rushing forward to catch Roger as he crumpled, his weight pressing against her. “Roger! Roger, stay with me!” Her voice was a desperate cry, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Sylvester’s furious voice cut through the chaos. “Guards! Call an ambulance! Stop her!”

Rita stumbled back, her bloodied hands shaking as reality crashed down around her. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to… I just wanted… I just—”

But no one was listening. Beatrix stood frozen, her face a mask of horror. The guards surged forward, seizing Rita, who fought them with wild, frantic screams.

“Let me go! I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean it!”

Roger’s vision blurred, darkness creeping at the edges, but he forced a weak smile as his gaze found Lily’s tear-filled eyes. “L-Lily… I’m… sorry.”

“Don’t you dare say that! You’ll be fine! Stay with me, Roger!” Lily sobbed, pressing against his wound, trying to stem the bleeding.

Sylvester’s voice was a harsh bark of orders, but all Roger could hear was Lily’s trembling voice, her warmth against him, and the scent of her hair as his world began to fade.

***

Diana had barely stepped into the house when her phone rang, the shrill sound cutting through the quiet. Frowning, she answered, but her mother’s frantic voice crashed over her like a tidal wave.

“Diana! You have to help us—Rita… Rita’s been detained by the police!”

The words struck Diana like a physical blow, her breath catching. “What? What happened?”

“She… she attacked Roger. With a knife. It’s all falling apart—Sylvester knows everything, and he won’t rest until we’ve lost everything!” Beatrix’s voice was a choked mix of panic and despair.

Diana didn’t wait for more details. She rushed out, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind a whirl of fear and disbelief.

When she arrived at the police station, the chaotic sight before her only intensified her dread. Beatrix stood by the reception counter, her face streaked with tears, her voice hoarse as she begged the officers.

“Please, please! My daughter is not a criminal! It was a mistake—she didn’t mean it!”

But the officers’ faces were stony, unmoved by her desperate pleas.

Diana’s gaze shifted, and she saw her sister—Rita—sitting behind the iron bars of a holding cell. But this wasn’t the confident, cunning woman she had always known. This was someone else—a broken, hollow figure slumped against the cold metal bench. Her usually vibrant eyes were dull, staring at her bloodstained hands, her lips parted in silent shock.

A shiver ran down Diana’s spine. For a moment, she could barely breathe.

“Mom,” she called out, her voice trembling.

Beatrix turned, her tear-filled eyes locking onto her daughter. “Diana!” she wailed, rushing to her. “You have to help us! They’re detaining Rita. We’ve lost everything. Sylvester knows the truth, and he’ll make sure we suffer.”

Her fingers dug into Diana’s arms, her voice a frantic whisper. “Rita… she attacked Roger. I never thought—I never imagined—”

But Diana’s eyes remained fixed on her sister, still frozen in the cell. Her heart thundered painfully in her chest, her mother’s words barely registering. The weight of reality settled over her like a crushing force.

They were finished.

Everything their mother had schemed for—all the manipulation, the lies—had come crashing down. And it hadn’t just destroyed them—it had destroyed Rita.

“Mom, calm down,” Diana whispered, but even she didn’t believe her own words. “I’ll… I’ll see what I can do.”

Yet deep down, a cold dread gripped her.

Rita’s actions had exposed everything. Sylvester wouldn’t forgive them. And with Roger’s life hanging in the balance, even begging for mercy seemed impossible.

Their carefully crafted world was gone, replaced by a nightmare of their own making.