Chapter 490
“Do you want me to speak to River?” I asked quietly.
She froze. And for a moment, I thought I’d lost her–thought she’d
shut down entirely. Then she pulled back just enough to look at me,
her eyes wide and searching.
“Why?” she asked.
I exhaled slowly. “I could hear you,” I said. “When I was… gone.”
Her lips parted slightly.
“I couldn’t move,” I continued. “Couldn’t open my eyes. Couldn’t
speak. It felt like being trapped inside my own body. But then… there
was this opening. Just a crack.”
She didn’t interrupt me. Didn’t take her eyes away from me.
“I heard you crying,” I said. “That was the first time I tried to fight
my way back. I was trying to move my fingers. I don’t think anyone
noticed.”
Her hand came up to her mouth.
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“It was later that River did,” I went on. “After that, everything went
quiet again. Total silence. Until I heard Reese.”
My jaw tightened at the memory.
“I was angry,” I admitted. “Angrier than I’ve ever been. He’d kept
something important from me. Something huge. I was furious that he
thought it was his decision to make.”
A
Savannah frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“I wanted to finish what he started,” I said.
“Finish what?” she asked. “Roman, what did Reese start?”
I hesitated as her earlier words echoed in my mind–how she didn’t
want to hear about Dahlia. How raw that wound still was. The last
thing I wanted was to hurt her.
“Are you sure?” I asked carefully. “It’s about… her.”
She swallowed, then nodded. “Tell me.”
I looked her straight in the eyes. “I wanted to strangle the maid
Penelope hired,” I said. “She helped her poison Dahlia. She was the
one behind the bleeding the day Dahlia died.”
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Chapter 490
Savannah gasped, slapping both hands over her mouth. “Penelope
poisoned her own sister?” she whispered.
“She’s insane,” I said flatly. Rage simmered dangerously beneath my
skin. “That bitch better pray I never see her again.”
“Oh my God,” Savannah breathed. “What if she’s working with the
General-”
The door opened immediately. No knock. No warning.
I turned just as my father stepped inside, flanked by guards like the
king of hell himself.
“Well,” I said coolly, loud enough for him to hear. “I guess it’s true
what they say. Speak of the devil, and he appears.”
If the comment offended him, he didn’t show it. He smiled instead.
“Glad to see you’re still your usual pleasant self, son.” He said.
My gaze flicked briefly to the guards. Then to the empty space beside
him. Cassandra wasn’t there.
That was unusual. She rarely left his side.
“Where’s your shadow today?” I asked casually.
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He ignored the question. “I heard you demanded to leave.”
“I’m not your prisoner,” I snapped. “And I’ll be leaving soon.”
“You’re not healed-”
“I am fine,” I cut in sharply. “And don’t insult me by pretending otherwise. I know every twisted thing you’ve done. So let’s skip the
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