From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 144

**Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**
**Chapter 144**

“Now I need you to tell me the truth, Roman.” Her voice quivered, each word laced with an accusation that cut deeper than any blade. “Is that why you hate your father so much? Is that what this is all about?”

My head jerked up, the sudden movement causing a sharp pop in my neck. A wave of anger surged through me, hot and violent, coursing through my veins like molten lava. If anyone else had dared to utter those words in my presence, I would have had their throat in my grip, squeezing until they could no longer draw breath.

But this was Savannah. My Savannah.

I forced myself to keep my voice steady, low, though every muscle in my body screamed for a release of violence. “Don’t you ever say that.”

She flinched at my tone but stood her ground, determination etched across her features.

“Don’t you ever accuse me of something so vile, so despicable. I know I’ve made mistakes, but letting my own father’s wife into my bed? I’d rather die than do that.”

Her lips parted in shock, and she took a step back, as if my words had physically pushed her away.

“But…” Her voice wavered, uncertainty creeping in. “I don’t understand. Then why does she—”

“Because if anyone is guilty of betrayal in this house, it’s him.” The words tore out of me, burning as they left my lips. My hands curled into fists, the veins bulging under the pressure. “He took Cassandra from me.”

Savannah’s brows knitted together, confusion and disbelief flickering in her eyes. “What? You mean—”

“Yes.” I forced myself to hold her gaze, the weight of my confession heavy in the air. “She was mine. My girlfriend. We were inseparable throughout high school and college. She was my first everything. And then one day, she simply wasn’t. My father decided he wanted her, and she went willingly.”

The disgust that twisted Savannah’s features hit me harder than any slap could.

“You’re telling me,” she whispered, her voice sharp with revulsion, “that the woman your father married was your girlfriend first? Your father stole your girlfriend from you?”

“She chose him, Sav. Don’t call it stealing when she handed herself over on a silver platter.”

She covered her mouth, as if suppressing nausea. “There is something very, very wrong with your family tree. No wonder you’re all so twisted. God, Roman, this is—this is sick.”

Her words cut deep, but I held my tongue. She had yet to meet the rest of the Blackwoods, had no idea just how rotten the roots of this family tree really went.

So instead, I asked, “Do you still want to visit Blackwood Manor?”

Her eyes widened, as if I had sprouted horns. “Of course I do! You think I’ll back out now? At the rehearsal dinner, you told me all I had to do was say the word, and it would be mine. Well, Roman, consider this me saying the word. I want to see Blackwood Manor. Are you going to deny me that?”

My mouth opened, then closed again, the realization hitting me like a slap. My own words had been turned against me, and the sting was painful.

“You can breathe here,” I urged, my voice almost pleading. “Take the entire floor. Lock me out of the room if you want. Just don’t leave.”

The suitcase clicked shut with a finality that sent a chill down my spine. She walked over to me, her expression softening with that smile that had the power to ruin me completely. She cupped my face gently, rose on her toes, and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. It was tender, sweet, and I desperately tried to make it last, to anchor her here with me, but she pulled away too soon.

“That’s super cute, Roman,” she murmured, her voice gentle but firm. “But I really have to go. You can always call me or come visit when you need me. If it’s convenient for me, I’ll come visit you.” She extended her palm between us, a smile lingering on her lips. “Now can I have my keys, please?”

Reluctantly, I dropped them into her hand, hating myself for it.

“I’ll drive you home,” I offered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

Her smile widened, genuine and bright. “Perfect. Let’s go.”

She rolled her suitcase past me, light as a feather, as though she hadn’t just gutted me alive with her departure.

I followed behind, silent, fists clenched in my pockets. As we descended the stairs, one thought crystallized in my mind, dark and certain.

It was time I had a little chat with her landlord.