5. Slap by the Truth

A maid's outfit was left outside the door, left there by an unknown person. Someone knocked briefly before leaving. Rose sighed but was grateful for the fresh change of clothes.

After taking a shower—feeling refreshed and somewhat relieved—Rose got dressed. But now she wasn't sure what to do. No one spoke to her. She had been ignored, confined to the room as if she didn't exist in the Cavanaugh household.

Even food was delivered on a tray and left at her door as if she were a prisoner.

"Maybe I should get out," Rose muttered to herself.

Leaving the room didn't make her feel any better. In fact, it made Rose more anxious. What if she ran into Letty or Nicole? Would they fight again? Rose had never had to deal with confrontation.

The only rivals she'd ever had were in her martial arts training—but that was just a sport. There was no hate or actual competition.

Now, living as Romilda, her world had been turned upside down.

She descended the stairs and noticed Matteo coming through the front door. His pace quickened as he approached her.

Rose stiffened. "I'm just going back to my room. I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh, but you are." Matteo paused. "With me."

Rose frowned. "Where?"

"Our honeymoon."

Then, without another word, Matteo turned back toward the front door. Rose blinked, confused, but followed him anyway.

"I thought you didn't want to go on a honeymoon?" she asked carefully.

"You're the one who refused."

"I said I didn't want to go abroad."

Matteo stopped in his tracks. "Oh, so you do want a honeymoon?"

His stare made Rose's skin crawl. She didn't know how to react. Could this be another one of Romilda's ridiculous demands? Was Romilda asking for everything, trapping Rose in her unrealistic wish list?

"If not, that's okay too," Rose said. "I don't want to argue with you about it."

"Cut the crap, Romilda! I know exactly what kind of person you are!"

Rose fell silent.

And what kind of person was Romilda in Matteo's eyes? Glamorous? A gold digger? A hedonistic bitch?

They stepped outside, and Matteo climbed into the luxury car parked on the porch. Hesitantly, Rose got in from the passenger side, sitting stiffly. Matteo barely glanced at her before starting the engine.

The car pulled away from the Cavanaugh estate, and Rose had no idea where they were going.

...

The drive took them through the city, then onto the highway, eventually leading to a quiet coastal area. The road rose, revealing a breathtaking view of the city below.

Honeymoon... where exactly? Rose wondered.

The car turned onto a narrow dirt road and drove a few hundred meters before stopping in front of a rustic wooden hut.

Rose blinked, confused.

Matteo parked the car, got out, grabbed his laptop bag from the back seat, and walked inside without saying a word.

"Oh, okay. Let's see what you're really up to, Matteo," Rose muttered, annoyed.

She followed him inside, only to freeze at the entrance.

The cabin looked old and shabby from the outside, but inside, it was unexpectedly cozy. A warm atmosphere filled the room—plush couches, a fireplace, a small but functional kitchen, and two small bedrooms. Everything was tidy as if it had just been cleaned.

Matteo was already on the couch, opening his laptop and focusing on his work. Rose approached cautiously, standing next to him.

"What should I do?" she asked.

Matteo shrugged. "Whatever you want."

Rose went to the kitchen, checked the stove, and turned the knob experimentally. It worked. Then she opened the fridge and frowned; it was completely empty.

Sighing, she decided to go out the back door, where she found a small vegetable garden. Rows of produce bloomed—ripe fruit and fresh vegetables ready to be picked.

Kneeling down, Rose dug into the soil and harvested a few potatoes, carrots, and tomatoes. At least she wouldn't go hungry for lunch.

"What are you doing?"

Matteo's voice startled her. Rose jumped up, the vegetables slipping from her grasp and scattering to the ground.

"S-Sorry! I just wanted to make a stew. It's almost noon," she explained.

Matteo stepped closer and crossed his arms. "What are you trying to do? Play the innocent maid from five years ago? The sweet, honest, dependable girl?"

Rose stared at him, confused. Wait... was Romilda once a maid for the Cavanaugh family?

"I don't know what you mean, Matteo," she admitted.

"We're already married, Romilda. You don't have to keep up this act anymore. Hell, I should give you an award—higher than an Oscar—for your dedication to pretending to be a saint all these years!"

Matteo turned to leave, but Rose instinctively grabbed his arm. "Wait!"

He turned back. "What now?"

"You're angry because you had to marry me and share company shares with Ro—...me?"

Matteo didn't answer, but his clenched jaw spoke for itself.

"For all these years, what was the worst thing I ever did to you? Tell me clearly!" she pressed.

"You're playing amnesia now?"

"Fine! Let's say I have amnesia. Explain it to me now! What did I do to make you hate me so much? And your sisters, too?"

Matteo scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. "Unbelievable."

"You don't even have the guts to say it, do you?"

"What did you just say?!"

Matteo stepped closer until only inches separated them. His eyes burned with anger, his breath shallow.

"You did not deserve my father's affection, Romilda. It wasn't love. It was disgusting lust!" His voice spilled with malice. "Did you really think I wouldn't know? That you were sneaking into his room at night? You're the reason my mother is in a mental hospital! Because she found out you were my father's lover!"

Rose froze.

The name of yet another victim in Romilda's twisted past surfaced—Anais Cavanaugh, Matteo's mother.

The reality of Romilda's cruelty hit Rose hard.

"I know my father wanted to give you shares, which is why he wrote that ridiculous will. But you don't deserve them unless you become part of this family!" Matteo spat.

"I... I..." Rose stammered.

"So, yes, you win! You got my father's love. You destroyed my mother. And now you're my wife. What more do you want?"

"Matteo, I..."

"Oh, and why does Letty hate you? Maybe because you slept with her ex-husband and ruined her marriage. Does that ring a bell?"

Matteo stormed back inside, his shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths, his anger palpable.

Rose felt her legs buckle beneath her. Kneeling in the dirt, she fought back tears.

"Why, Romilda? Why have you been such a monster? And now you expect me to change Matteo's mind, to fix everything, when you've already destroyed them all?"

*

Rose spent the entire afternoon in the backyard, not daring to approach Matteo. Guilt gnawed at her heart as if she were responsible for all of Romilda's actions. She had only prepared some stew for Matteo for lunch, not even knowing if he would touch it or not.

As night fell, Matteo opened the back door and stared at Rose sitting on a firewood pile.

"Get inside!" Matteo barked, his voice sharp and commanding.

Rose followed Matteo inside, but suddenly, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Matteo's eyes bored into her sharply.

"Still pretending to be naive, Romilda?" Matteo snapped.

"What? I don't know what you're talking about!"

Matteo put his hands on his hips and shook his head in disbelief, his breathing growing heavy with anger.

"Making me stew? Pretending you're the perfect wife?" Matteo growled. "Just tell me how much you want! I'll pay you! But stay away from my family's inheritance, you greedy woman!"

"Matteo, I..."

Rose's tongue felt tied. What else could she say to defend herself? After all, it was true that Romilda was after the Cavanaugh fortune.

Suddenly, Matteo grabbed Rose by the shoulders.

"Take off your clothes," he ordered firmly.

Rose instinctively pushed his hands away, clutching her body protectively. "Why?"

"You're my wife!"

"But..."

"Drop the innocent act, Romilda! Do you think I'm going to fall into your trap? That's what you want, isn't it? We sleep together, and then you fake proof that you're still a virgin!"

"What are you talking about, Matteo?"

"I bet you have some trick to convince everyone you're pure!"

Rose fell silent, trembling at Matteo's accusations. She was still a virgin, and hearing him accuse her of planning to fake it broke her heart.

"If you're so sure, why don't you let a doctor examine me?" Rose challenged. "You'll get your answer!"

"Shut up! I know your kind!"

Matteo tried to force Rose to undress, ripping open the buttons on her top. Rose screamed in fear and struggled to fight him off.

"No!! Stop!!" Rose cried out.

"Let's see if you're still a virgin!"

Matteo seemed deaf to her pleas. He pushed Rose onto the bed and began to roughly undress her, blocking every kick and punch she threw at him.

"Stop it! Stop it! Please!!" Rose sobbed.

Tears streamed down Rose's cheeks until Matteo suddenly stopped and stood at the edge of the bed, panting heavily before turning away.

"Shit!" Matteo cursed.

Rose scrambled to cover herself with the torn remains of her clothes, crying uncontrollably.

"We're leaving," Matteo hissed.

Without looking at her, Matteo stormed out of the cabin. Rose, still crying, struggled into her ripped clothes and stumbled after him.

"Oh God..." Rose sobbed. "How far must I go for Romilda's sake? But if I don't... I can't lose Mom."