From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 457

From Best Friend To Fiancé

Chapter 457

Chapter 258: Who’s Next?

Reese

My first reaction was to laugh.

Not a chuckle. Not a scoff. But a full, unrestrained, almost hysterical

laugh tore from my chest.

I threw my head back and laughed so hard that tears spilled from my

eyes, my ribs aching with every breath I dragged in between fits. He

couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t possibly be serious. There were limits

to madness–even for him.

My body shook under the weight of it as I dragged my hands through

my hair, pulling at the roots like I needed pain to remind me this

wasn’t some elaborate, sick joke.

Because what?

What sane man announces a forced marriage like he’s assigning a

business contract?

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“Are you done?” my father asked calmly, as if he hadn’t just casually

detonated my life. As if he hadn’t just mapped out my entire future

without bothering to consult me first.

That alone made me laugh harder.

I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes, still experiencing

aftershocks from the laughter. “Thank you, Father. I haven’t laughed

that much in a long time. Truly. I needed that.”

But he didn’t look amused nor did he look pleased. He didn’t look like

a man who had just delivered a joke.

“This is good, then,” he said coolly. “I take it you’ll be laughing all the way to the altar? In that case, everything’s settled. You can leave now. I’ll arrange for Lauren to pay you a visit when she returns from Paris

I didn’t let him finish.

“Are you out of your mind?!” I slammed my hand down on the desk, the sound cracking through the room like a bomb. “Is something

wrong with you?!”

The papers jumped. The glass on his table rattled. But he didn’t flinch nor blink. He just cocked a brow, studying me like I was the one being

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unreasonable.

“What the hell are you talking about?!” I lashed out, pushing to my

feet. “Is there really no limit to your cruelty?!”

“Zachary, I’d advise you watch that tone,” he said calmly. “Remember

who you’re speaking to-”

“Fuck that,” I snapped, because the more he spoke, the clearer it

became that he wasn’t joking. Not even a little.

I kicked the chair back as I stood, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. The sound was ugly. Sharp. Exactly how I felt inside.

“I never asked for your help in finding a wife!” I shouted. “Hell, I’m not even fit to be anyone’s husband! What is wrong with you?! First it was River! Now it’s me! Who’s next? Ramsey? Riley? Or maybe it’ll be

Rosie!”

The thought of Riley–sweet, stubborn Riley–being trapped in one of his political cages made bile rise in my throat. But he still barely

reacted.

No anger. No guilt. No concern.

Just that infuriating, composed stillness. The kind that told you he

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believed himself untouchable.

“Everything I do is what’s best for you,” he said, as if he hadn’t just

flipped my entire life upside down.

“What’s best for me?!” I exploded, dragging my hands through my

hair again. “Do I look like I’m in diapers to you?! Do I look like a child

who needs his hand held while crossing the street?!”

He remained silent, watching me unravel like it was a spectacle

meant for his private enjoyment. The calm in his eyes made my blood

boil even hotter.

To show him just how furious I was, I slapped the pictures and

documents off the desk, papers scattering across the floor like fallen

leaves–contracts, profiles, photographs, all reduced to litter at his

feet.

“I’m not doing it,” I said firmly, my chest heaving. “I am not marrying

that girl. Or anyone else, for that matter. I don’t want that life. I don’t

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