Once, my paranoid love

I repeated myself, my tone unwavering, “Kill Paul tonight.” The name hung heavily between us, a name that represented a threat to the fragile peace we were trying to build.

Without waiting for a response from Obin, I abruptly hung up the phone. The call had been made, and the wheels of a dark and irreversible plan were set in motion.

As I turned away from the balcony and reentered the room, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread and heaviness in my heart.

I sat down next to Elena, my heart heavy with the weight of the decision I had made. As she slept peacefully, I began to speak softly, addressing her even though she couldn’t hear me.

“Elena, I apologize,” I began, my voice filled with regret and determination. “I’m not willing to take any chances with this. I will tolerate everything, but I cannot share you with anyone.”

The room was quiet, and the gravity of my words settled over me. I knew that my decision to order Paul’s death was a drastic one, but I believed it was the only way to protect Elena and our future together.

I couldn’t escape the truth that loomed over me. If I didn’t take action now, Paul could become a persistent threat, causing additional problems in the future. Elena was carrying his child, and I couldn’t ignore the possibility that he might use the child as a means to manipulate her. His influence over her was undeniable, and I feared that he could convince her to return to him, citing the child’s welfare.

I knew Elena loved him, and that love had the power to change her mind. I couldn’t risk her being drawn back into a relationship that would only bring her pain and uncertainty. The decision was a difficult one, but I believed it was necessary to protect the woman I loved and the life we were building together.

“Elena,” I whispered, my finger gently tracing the curve of her lips. My heart ached with the thought of Paul, the man who had once held a significant place in her life, and who had been the cause of our current predicament.

My hand found its way to her belly, a silent promise to the life growing within her. “Elena, I love you,” I declared, my voice filled with unwavering affection and commitment. “As a father, I will take full responsibility for our child.”

But my next words were tinged with a heavy burden. “But kindly pardon me because I am unable to let him live.” The weight of the decision I had made, the choice to protect our future by eliminating a dangerous presence, bore heavily on my conscience.

In the quiet of the room, with Elena sleeping peacefully beside me, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had made the right choice. The road ahead was fraught with uncertainty, and the consequences of my actions were yet to be revealed.

I could only hope that Elena would someday understand the difficult decision I had made, a choice driven by my love for her and the desire to protect the life we were creating together.

**

“What is it, Dad?” Ron inquired.

William hesitated for a moment before responding, “Nothing, son,” in a subdued voice.

William couldn’t help but direct his thoughts towards Anne, “Anne, you are a jerk!” he mused bitterly, though he kept his words unspoken.

“Are you guys going to stay together?” he asked, his gaze shifting between his father and Anne.

Anne responded, “Ron, he’s my husband. As a result, it’s natural to stay together.”

Ron, however, was unswayed. “Dad, if she stays here, I’m leaving,” he declared, his voice unwavering.

“Ron, listen to me,” William began, seeking a connection with his child.

But Ron was determined to make his point. “You listen to me,” he replied, his tone calm but resolute. “I don’t want her to be here.”

Anne interjected, attempting to bridge the divide with a smile. “Ron, you and Paul are brothers. He’s your elder brother. Is it difficult for you to accept him?”

But Ron’s response was somber. “I only have one brother, and he is no longer alive,” he stated, his words heavy with the weight of the past.

“This bitch is only using you, Dad. Now it’s up to you to make a decision. I’m getting out of here,” Ron declared, his voice filled with anger and frustration. With that, he turned and walked out of the house, leaving a trail of hurt and unresolved conflict behind him.

“Ron, hold on a second, listen!” William shouted, his voice laced with desperation as he watched his son’s retreating figure.

The echoes of Ron’s accusation reverberated in the room, and Anne couldn’t contain her anger any longer. “What have you done, Anne?” William yelled.

Anne, feeling unfairly attacked, responded fiercely, “How can your son call me a bitch? What kind of parenting has allowed him to disrespect me like this?”

“Bastard! Anyway, Paul is his brother, but he refers to someone as his bro who isn’t his brother,” Anne stated.

“Enough is enough, now stop it,” he implored, his jaw clenched in frustration.

With a heavy sigh, Anne turned and made her way upstairs, she had nothing to do with William and his son though.

**

On the other side of the story, Obin engaged in a hushed conversation over the phone.

“Do as I say,” Obin urged, his voice carrying an air of authority and a sense of urgency. His words were a command, and he expected them to be followed without question.

The person on the other end, the psychiatrist who had been drawn into a complex web of intrigue, hesitated. “But Obin,” he began, the weight of the situation clearly pressing on his conscience.

Sensing the need for persuasion, Obin played his trump card. “The boss will give you double as much,” he stated, knowing that the allure of financial gain could be a powerful motivator.

Reluctantly, the psychiatrist sighed and agreed with Obin, a decision born out of a combination of necessity and the promise of substantial reward.This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

Having concluded the call, the psychiatrist, a man dedicated to his profession and now burdened with a grave task, made a decision that would have far-reaching consequences. He called a young boy to his side, the weight of his words evident in the seriousness of his tone.

The boy said, “Doctor.”

The doctor’s words were heavy with the gravity of the situation. “We have no other option,” he began, his voice tinged with a sense of foreboding. “We must take action.”

The psychiatrist and the ward boy moved through the dimly lit corridors of the facility, their footsteps echoing in the quiet of the night. The weight of their mission pressed upon them as they approached Paul’s cabin, the epicenter of the unfolding conspiracy.

“Sir, isn’t it too dangerous?” the ward boy asked, his voice quivering with trepidation. The doctor’s actions had cast a shadow of doubt and fear over the young boy.

“That’s why they’re paying so much,” the doctor explained, his tone revealing the urgency and gravity of the situation.

They reached Paul’s cabin, a threshold that held the secrets and mysteries they had been tasked with uncovering. The doctor turned to the ward boy and issued a simple command, “Open it.”

With a deep breath, the ward boy pushed open the door, revealing a scene that would change everything in a matter of seconds. The room was dimly lit, and the sight that met their eyes left them in shock.

There was no Paul. The psychiatrist’s shock turned to anger, and he couldn’t contain his outburst. “What the hell is going on here? What happened to him?” he shouted.

“He’ll murder us, damn it. Find him,” the doctor exclaimed, his voice laced with fear and urgency.

Another ward boy, alerted by the psychiatrist’s voice, approached them, seeking to understand the source of the commotion. “What’s wrong?” he inquired, his expression reflecting the growing unease within the facility.

The ward boy who had discovered the absence of Paul responded with a sense of urgency, “He’s not there. Please inform everyone that the patient is not here. We need to look around the hospital.” The realization that Paul had disappeared sent shockwaves through the staff, and the need to locate him became a top priority.

The doctor’s frustration boiled over as he questioned the ward boys. “What were you doing? I told you to keep an eye on him, didn’t I?”

One of the ward boys quickly defended his actions. “I was with you, sir. He was with him.” His attempt to clarify their roles in the situation was met with the doctor’s growing agitation.

“I was. But I just went to the restroom. And when I heard the noise, I raced here,” another ward boy explained, his voice reflecting a sense of helplessness.

The urgency of the situation was undeniable, and the staff within the hospital was now mobilizing to search for Paul, whose sudden disappearance had created a cloud of uncertainty and fear.