From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 176

**Chapter 176:1 Love You, Sax**

**Saxonnale**

**Present**

**37%**

Fear and satisfaction, anger and gratitude—these emotions collided within me, a tempest of feelings that crashed against one another with such ferocity that I struggled to discern which one was dominant, or which should take precedence in this moment. All I could feel was the heavy ache in my chest, a weight that threatened to crush me under its intensity. He had taken a life, a man’s life, because of the horror he had inflicted upon me. Not just yesterday, not last week, but years ago. And now, here he was, standing before me as if confessing a simple truth, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

“Now you understand why I would never apologize for killing him,” Roman declared, his voice unwavering, steady as a mountain. His gaze pierced through me, challenging me to flinch, to recoil from the raw honesty of his words. “He deserved it, Sax.”

Those words slithered into my bones, settling deep within me. My mouth opened, but no response came forth. What could I possibly say? That I was Bonded to him? That a part of me felt relief? Or that while a part of me recoiled in horror, another part wanted to cling to him for ensuring that Kat man would never escape justice for what he had done?

Memories flooded my mind—the land on me, the excruciating pain, the filthy words that had dripped from his mouth, the smirk that haunted my nightmares. I could still feel the cold, hard floor pressing against my face, the way my body had gone rigid, paralyzed by fear. Roman had taken that terror away from me, forever altering the course of my life.

I swallowed, my throat raw and tight. “… I don’t know what to say.”

He leaned in closer, his thumb brushing against my cheek with an unexpected gentleness that sent shivers down my spine. “Please. Say something. Anything.” His voice trembled just slightly, enough to unravel something deep within me.

My breath hitched in my throat. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you yesterday.” The words slipped out quietly, almost shamefully. “I was wrong.”

His jaw tightened, and he shook his head firmly. “No. Don’t say that. We were both wrong. I shouldn’t have raised my voice. I shouldn’t have lost my temper either.”

Despite the heaviness of the moment, a small smile tugged at my lips. The memory of our argument flickered in my mind, and this time, I noticed more than just anger in his eyes; I saw a flicker of something else—hunger. Heat rushed up my neck, and I couldn’t help but admit, “That was… kind of hot though.” My voice was barely a whisper, almost lost in the charged air between us. “Before New Hope, I’d only seen you angry a couple of times. And even then, it was always directed at your staff. Never at me.”

Roman froze, surprise flickering across his features before laughter erupted from him, low and rich, reverberating through his chest. “What?”

“I want to touch you, Savannah. Can I?”

I smirked, feeling a thrill of mischief. “You’re not supposed to ask.”

He smiled, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eyes. And when his lips finally met mine, it wasn’t quite a kiss—not yet. It was merely a brush, a tentative question. I answered it in silence, leaning into him, inviting him to deepen the connection.

Then he kissed me for real.

At first, it was gentle, infused with apology and hope, pressed into soft lips. My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, grounding me as my pulse raced wildly. His lips coaxed mine, savoring the moment with an exquisite patience.

But as the kiss lingered, the gentleness began to fade. His hand slid to the back of my neck, angling me closer as his tongue brushed against mine. The spark that shot through me made me moan softly into his mouth, a sound that seemed to unleash something primal within him.

Roman growled low in his throat, and suddenly, the kiss turned hungry, possessive. His mouth devoured mine, his weight pressing me into the bed beneath us. His hips slid between my thighs, parting them effortlessly, his body fitting perfectly against mine. The friction of his hardness against me made me gasp, my body instinctively arching to meet him, surrendering to the overwhelming desire that coursed through us both.