From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 493

Chapter 493

Chapter 280: My Perverted Brother

Roman

Bella.

The name alone was enough to set something vicious loose inside my che

The same girl Reese had mentioned earlier. The same maid Penelope had used. The same pair of hands that had carried poison into Dahlia’s

body.

I was still staring at the door when Savannah’s voice, gentle and unaware of the storm building beside her, granted permission.

“Oh. Come in, Bella.”

Her fingers tightened around my arm, as if instinct told her I was already slipping beyond reason. As if she believed touch alone could anchor

1. me.

The door opened.

A small figure stepped inside first–thin, quiet, almost folded into herself. She held a stack of neatly pressed clothes to her chest. Behind her

came another maid carrying a tray of food, head lowered, movements careful and rehearsed.

Neither of them looked up. Neither of them dared to.

“Thank you,” Savannah said politely, the way she always did with staff, with strangers, with anyone.

My gaze locked onto the first girl.

Small. Pale. Shoulders drawn inward. A creature that survived by making itself invisible. I had a gut feeling in my chest that she was the rat I

was looking for.

“Which one of you is Bella?” I asked. My voice came out impatient and rude.

Savannah’s grip tightened.

The girl holding the clothes stiffened. Slowly, she lifted her head a fraction. “I’m Bella, sir-”

She didn’t finish.

My body moved before thought could catch up. One step forward. One reach. My hands found her throat with brutal force, my fingers locking around fragile flesh like they had been waiting for this moment.

The clothes slipped from her arms in surprise and scattered across the floor. A sharp, startled sound tore from her mouth.

“Jesus Christ! Roman!” Savannah gasped behind me. “What are you doing?”

I didn’t look at her. “Stay out of this, Savannah.” The warning came low, not cruel.

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Chapter 493

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She stood rooted on the spot. I felt it without burning. She knew when pising me would make things worse. She knew that tone,

The second maid stood rooted near the door, tray trembling in her hands he didn’t run. Didn’t scream. Fear had turned her into stone.

Aly entire focus was on the girl in my grasp.

This was the face that had stood near Dahlia. This quiet little thing had helped destroy everything.

And she wasn’t fighting. That was what struck me most.

No scratching. No desperate struggle. No frantic attempt to pry my fingers loose. She didn’t even try to breathe past the pressure,

She simply endured.

Her gaze drifted somewhere over my shoulder, refusing to meet my eyes, if she had already accepted whatever came next.

“You know what you did,” I said quietly, tightening my grip. “Do you know who I am?”

Slowly–painfully–her eyes lifted to mine. Red. Swollen. Wet with tears that had already been shed long before she walked into this room.

She nodded. A slow, trembling movement.

“Good,” I said. “Then give me one reason not to end your life right now.”

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