From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 446

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From Best Friend To Fiancé

Chapter 446

Chapter 251: Your Fiancé

Savannah

A reckless part of me wanted to say it.

To stand there, look Ryan straight in the eye, and tear his carefully

curated composure apart with a single sentence.

You have a daughter. A beautiful one. And she looks just like you. Do

you remember you promised my sister, Alyssa, that you’ll divorce your

wife? Or was that a lie like I suspected?

I wanted to watch his face change. To see the calm fracture. To watch

him scramble for lies or choke on the truth. I wanted the entire table

to know that the man Reginald trusted so blindly had been living a

double life–had deceived his wife, his family, and my sister with

chilling ease.

But as I studied him, sitting there so relaxed, so unbothered, sipping

water like this was just another board meeting, I knew better.

Men like Ryan didn’t panic when exposed prematurely. They didn’t

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crack or crumble under pressure. They prepared.

And more importantly, I wasn’t done with that card yet. No. I

intended to hold it. To polish it. To dangle it in front of him slowly

until he bent to my will.

Because power wasn’t in shouting the truth. Power was in owning it.

I couldn’t tell if Reginald had noticed the resemblance between Ryan

and Emily. To me, it was painfully obvious–the same bone structure,

the same eyes, the same sharp angles. Anyone with vision could see

1. it.

And Reginald was not a foolish man. I believed he knew. He simply

hadn’t chosen to make it public yet.

“I’m listening, Miss Hart,” Reginald said, his voice calm but

commanding.

Ryan didn’t look worried. Not even a flicker. He lifted his glass and

took a slow drink of water, unhurried, unbothered, like a man who

believed he was untouchable.

Fine. If he wanted a game, I could play.

“General,” I began, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside

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me,

“do you know that Ryan here-”

Ryan looked up.

Reginald raised a single brow.

I cleared my throat deliberately. “-isn’t Roman’s next of kin. I am.

And in that case, I don’t see why Ryan is making decisions concerning

my fiancé’s businesses without my consent.”

The room shifted.

“I made the decision, Miss Hart,” Reginald interrupted sharply.

The way he kept calling me Miss Hart–so formal, so dismissive–was

beginning to feel intentional. Like a reminder that he did not

recognize me as a part of his family or world.

“I made that decision as his father. Ryan did not take it upon himself.

Do you object to that? Or do you believe I am not entitled to a say in

my son’s life?” His gaze hardened. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten how he

ended up in this state in the first place. It certainly had nothing to do

with me.”

My hands clenched so tightly my knuckles burned.

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I forced myself to breathe. “What happened to Roman was an

accident,” I said, carefully. “I would never intentionally hurt him. But

my stance remains this, none of you in this room has the right to

make decisions regarding my husband’s affairs without-”

“Fiancé,” Reginald corrected, his voice sharp as a blade. “Your fiancé.

Not your husband. You never made it to the altar.”

Rosalie snorted, barely disguising her amusement.

The humiliation hit me like a slap.

“Same thing, General,” I said firmly. “If this hadn’t happened, Roman

would have married me. The love we share doesn’t require validation

from a piece of paper. We didn’t need to stand before a priest for him

to treat me as his wife–because he already did.”

I swallowed.

“And we were waiting until after the baby before-”

“And on that subject,” Reginald said calmly, cutting me off, “I will be

demanding a paternity test to authenticate that claim.”

Silence. Absolute silence. For a moment, my mind refused to process

the words.

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“I beg your pardon?” I whispered.

“I believe I was clear,” he said coolly. “You will submit to a DNA test

when the time is appropriate. To prove that the child you’re carrying

is indeed my son’s.”

Something inside me snapped. “Are you out of your mind?” I blurted.

Riley gasped.

Reese shook his head subtly at me–don’t–but it was far too late.

“Do you have any idea what you’re accusing me of?” I demanded. “Do

you understand the implications of what you just said?”

“I do not speak on matters I’m uninformed about,” Reginald replied

evenly. “And given your… history, Miss Hart, I would be remiss not to

request this assurance.”

“My history?” I echoed sharply. “And what exactly do you think you

know about me?”

“Enough,” he said. “Enough to conclude that your claims are…

questionable.”

The word sliced deep.

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“You have a rather colourful past,” he continued. “Details I will not

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