All Chapters of The Roomie Complex: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

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

AIDEN'S POVOne second, she was right beside me, her tiny hand resting securely in mine. The next, she was gone.At first, I thought maybe she just loosened her grip, maybe shifted behind me or paused to look at something. But when I turned around, there was no sign of her. Just a wave of people pushing, shouting, laughing — a chaos of color and sound. My stomach twisted.“Cheryl?” I called out, though I could barely hear my own voice over the commotion. I pushed through the crowd, shoulder to shoulder, hoping I'd see that flash of her curly hair or the white sundress she had stubbornly insisted on wearing tonight. “Cheryl!”Panic sank its claws deep into my chest.It didn’t help that I had everything — her handbag, her phone, even the ridiculous stuffed flamingo she made me win from a carnival booth. I hadn't let her carry a damn thing, thinking I was being chivalrous. Now, it felt like a cruel joke. The woman was pregnant, for Christ’s sake. What the hell had I been thinking, bringi

CHERYL'S POVThe scent of crisp morning air drifted into the room before I was even fully awake. When I finally opened my eyes, the space beside me was cold, the sheets untouched. My fingers searched absently, but Aiden was gone. For a moment, panic fluttered through my chest—until I noticed the soft chime of a notification blinking on my phone screen.Didn’t want to wake you, bella. Went for a run. Be back soon. Look at this view.Attached was a picture—Aiden standing in front of a breathtaking Florentine sunrise, the rooftops of the city glowing gold behind him. He was in a simple white t-shirt, hair tousled, face flushed with exertion. My heart softened instantly.I smiled as I climbed out of bed, stretching my arms with a groan. The baby stirred, or maybe it was just the now-familiar growl in my stomach. Ever since I got pregnant, I’d been hungry every hour like clockwork. Famished didn’t even begin to describe it.Barefoot and still wrapped in the silk robe Aiden had insisted I s

Cheryl’s POVMy heart was pounding like church bells as I eased the front gate open. Aiden was dead asleep when I slipped out—exhausted from climbing stairs and still breathing deeply—and I pressed a finger to my lips before quietly closing the door behind me. Every step felt like an act of sin and a liberation all at once. I carried only myself—no handbag, no phone, no promise left to keep. I figured I'll be back before he wakes up, Aiden could be a heavy sleeper most of the time and I hoped this night was one of those nightsThe street glowed with soft lamplight as I walked toward the villa where Filippe’s invitation led me. The night air wrapped around me like silk, and I could smell sun-warmed stone and garden jasmine. Deep down, I felt alive again. I had forgotten what it felt like to choose—to step into the unknown.The villa’s terrace burst into sight as I rounded the corner: lanterns strung overhead in trailing vines, tables set with alabaster pitchers of water, deep indigo-bl