From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 390

Chapter 390

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“There’s a possibility that it happened that way.” Roma said. “I don’t believe that father wouldn’t know

that a wounded woman crawled into the trunk of his call.”

“But I didn’t know that then,” I say. “All I knew was she was dying. And she needed help fast. I gave her

water and food. She was so weak she could barely hold the cup. Her hands were shaking like she hadn’t

eaten in weeks.”

I see it all again—the trembling fingers, the way she whispered thank you like the word physically hurt to

say.

“She couldn’t walk. Her feet were surprisingly full of glass shards,” I whisper. “I pulled piece after piece

out. She didn’t even scream. She just… she just sat there. Silent. Like she’d been through worse. Much

worse. And she’d somehow grown immune to pain.”

Roman curses under his breath.

“I told her I’d get help,” I say. “I told her my father would know what to do. I was stupid. I should’ve known better. But I wasn’t exactly thinking. I believed that even with our father’s cruelty, he wouldn’t hurt

someone that helpless.”

I laugh bitterly. “Foolish, right?”

No one responds.

“I ran back to the house,” I continued. “Interrupted his meditation. And I told him a wounded girl had wandered onto Blackwood property. The second he heard it… everything changed.”

Paula leans forward. “Changed how?”

“He went rigid,” I say. “Not angry. Not shocked. Just–calculating. He stood, sent his men out instantly, and

told them to search the stables.”

Roman shifts. “You followed him?”

“I tried,” I say. “But before he walked out, he turned to me and said, ‘Fetch my hunting rifle, Zachary. Bring

it to the stables.“”

Paula’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.”

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Chapter 390

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“I didn’t understand,” I whisper. “I thought maybe he needed it for protection. Or to scare someone. I didn’t question it. I just obeyed. But he had so many rifles, and I didn’t know which he wanted. It took me too long. Too damn long.”

I feel the familiar twist of guilt in my gut. That cold, breath–stealing guilt that’s been haunting me for

years.

“I finally grabbed one and ran,” I say. “I was halfway across the grounds when I heard-”

My voice breaks.

Roman’s eyes widened. He knows. He already knows.

“-a gunshot.”

Paula flinches like the sound echoes in her head.

“I froze,” I whisper. “Just for a second. And in that second… everything inside me knew. Something horrible had happened. So I sprinted faster. Harder than I’ve ever run in my entire life.”

The room feels colder now. Like even the air is listening.

“I burst into the stables,” I say. “And there he was. Our father. Standing over Serena’s body. She was still in the same place I left her. Head tipped back. Eyes open. A bullet wound in her forehead.”

Paula gasps.

Roman goes rigid, just like our father did in my memory.

“The gun was still smoking,” I whisper. “He didn’t even look surprised. He didn’t look angry. He just… looked annoyed that she’d made it this far. That she’d made it into his house. Onto his land. Into my

hands.”

My own breath trembles. “It’s my fault. I killed her.”

“No,” Paula snaps, fierce. “You didn’t.”

Roman doesn’t speak.

“I told her I’d bring help,” I choke. “I told her I’d save her. And I brought the one man who guaranteed she died. He ordered the guards to throw her body into a river like she was worth nothing. And then he turned

to me and said-”

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