Semua Bab The Roomie Complex: Bab 141 - Bab 143

Aiden’s POV“Will you marry me, Cheryl Taylor?”The words trembled off my lips before I could stop them, but I meant every single syllable. I meant it with my whole heart. I wanted nothing else than to have her as her my wife.She blinked, her eyes wide and glossy, her lashes fluttering like wings against the bruises on her face. Her left arm was suspended in a cast, her skin still pale from blood loss, but nothing had ever looked more beautiful to me than her right then — battered, but alive. Here. Breathing.I hadn’t planned this. God, I had dreamed of a hundred different proposals — in Florence, under warm golden skies, with a string quartet playing her favorite song and candles flickering in her hair. I'd bought the ring months ago, before I knew Oliver had already asked her. Before everything between us got so damn complicated. Before I ruined it all with my past, with Alejandro knocking at my doorstep hunting for my blood and everyone that I cared about.But now, in this white r

Cheryl’s POVFlorence was like a living, breathing painting. The kind you’d hang in an old Italian villa with ivy crawling along the walls and dust motes dancing through rays of golden sunlight. It had been three months since we arrived, and yet, the city never stopped dazzling me. The cobblestone streets sang beneath our feet, winding through centuries-old buildings in warm ochres and terracottas, the facades often kissed by bursts of blooming bougainvillea. Cafés spilled onto sidewalks with little wrought-iron tables and chairs, and the air always carried a quiet hum—like the city was perpetually whispering its history into your ears.It had been peaceful. Almost too peaceful.Aiden and I spent most of our days indoors, holed up in his sprawling estate nestled just outside the city center—hidden behind high gates and lined with towering cypress trees. The house was even bigger than I’d imagined. At first glance, it looked like a modern-day palace: three stories of honey-colored ston