From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 421

Chapter 421

Chapter 238: Where Is Roman?

Savannah

The world didn’t end all at once. At least not for me.

It unraveled slowly, brutally, in pieces I couldn’t stop watching.

Red and blue lights flooded the house, flashing against the walls, against the bodies, against the blood that no amount of sirens could

erase.

The front of the house turned into absolute chaos. There were voices shouting, boots pounding, radios crackling, but I felt removed from

it all, like I was trapped behind glass, watching a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

Roman was lifted onto a stretcher.

Roman–my Roman–motionless, pale… lifeless.

“No–no, wait-” I sobbed, scrambling after them, my hands clutching at his shirt as if sheer will could keep him with me. “Please–please don’t take him yet–he’s still here–he has to be-”

“Ma’am,” one of the paramedics said gently but firmly, peeling my fingers away. “We need space.”

Space. As if space hadn’t already stolen everything from me.

I stumbled after them anyway, barefoot, shaking, my knees threatening to give out with every step. I barely registered when another stretcher rolled past me. Then another. Then another.

My eyes latched onto them unwillingly.

Chloe. My sister. Her body was covered, zipped up, anonymous in death in a way she’d never been in life.

Paula followed. Then Julius. And then, one of the bodyguards.

Four stretchers. Four bodies. All being wheeled into separate ambulances, their doors slamming shut one by one, sealing them forever away from the living.

My stomach lurched violently.

I gagged, doubling over, my hands braced against my knees as my breath came in sharp, broken gasps. Someone–my mother, I think- grabbed my shoulders to steady me, but I barely felt it.

1/3

Chapter 421

I ignored her, shaking off her touch.

Nothing else mattered to me. Not even my own well–being. The only thing that mattered or made sense was Roman. The only.

that mattered was Roman’s.

They pushed him into the ambulance, and before anyone could stop me, I climbed in after them.

“I’m going with him,” I cried. “I’m not leaving him–please–I’m his fiancée–I’m pregnant with his child–please-

The word pregnant seemed to snap something into place. They didn’t argue. They let me in.

The doors slammed shut, cutting off everything else, the sirens screaming to life as the ambulance lurched forward.

Roman lay still beneath the harsh fluorescent lights, tubes and wires everywhere, his chest terrifyingly unmoving, One of the parimetics

pressed rhythmically against his sternum, counting under his breath.

“No,” I whispered. “No, no, no-”

I clutched his hand. His hand was cold and limp in mine. I sobbed so hard my vision blurred. “Roman, please” I begged. “Please wake up.

Please breathe. Please come back to me.”

Nothing.

Another paramedic tilted his head back, forcing air into his lungs. The monitor emitted a flat, merciless tone that made my chest seize

instantly.

I screamed.

“Don’t stop!” I sobbed at them, begging them not to give up on him. “Please don’t stop! Bring him back–bring my fiancé back to me! He has a family–he has a child–he needs to live–please-”

My voice cracked into something I couldn’t recognize as panic swallowed me whole.

“This is my fault,” I cried. “I shot him–I didn’t mean to–I didn’t know–it was an accident–Roman, I’m so sorry–I’m so sorry–please-

I placed my hand on his arm, shaking violently. “Please wake up,” I whispered. “Please. I need you. Your baby needs you. I can’t do this

without you.”

The paramedics exchanged looks I didn’t like. Looks that carried quiet resignation.

Fear wrapped icy fingers around my heart.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify