From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 51

**From Best Friend To Fiancé**

**Chapter 51**

**Chapter 34: You Started This**

“Put me down, Roman! This is ridiculous!” I protested, my body thrashing against his firm grip as he effortlessly carried me up the stairs. It felt as if I weighed no more than a feather in his arms, and I hated that realization.

Fortunately, the rest of my family had scattered, engrossed in discussions about the wedding rehearsal and the earlier chaos that had unfolded. They were blissfully unaware of the betrayal I felt from this son of a dragon, Roman, who had turned my world upside down without a moment’s hesitation.

The truth was, I had only myself to blame for trusting him. What a foolish mistake that had been.

He didn’t even flinch at my struggles. Instead, he ascended the stairs with unwavering determination, completely indifferent to the fact that I was draped over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Seriously, put me down, you jerk!” I shouted, my fists pounding against his back in frustration.

His silence was maddening. Not a grunt, not a hint of acknowledgment—he just kept moving, as if I were merely a misbehaving kitten he was reluctantly taking to bed.

“I swear, I’m going to kill you!” I threatened, my voice laced with fury.

A low chuckle escaped him, deep and infuriatingly calm. “You’re not really helping your case, love.”

“Jerk!”

“Correct. Keep going.” He replied, a hint of amusement dancing in his tone.

We finally reached the bedroom, and as soon as my feet touched the floor, the room swayed around me. I staggered, grasping the nightstand to steady myself, my vision swirling from the disorienting experience of being carried like that.

A hand rested gently on my shoulder, and I turned to see him looking at me with that casual concern that made my blood boil. “You okay, Sav?”

His tone was so nonchalant that it snapped something inside me. I spun around, fury coursing through my veins, and without thinking, I slapped him hard across the face, pouring every ounce of my anger into that single act.

The sound echoed in the room, sharp and shocking.

He didn’t even flinch. Not a single blink. He stood there, his jaw clenched tight, as if I had just struck a wall—a very angry wall.

“How could you do this to me?” I shouted, my foot coming down hard on his.

He stared at me, eyes wide with disbelief, as if I had committed the most heinous act imaginable. But that was all he did—just stared, his expression unreadable.

“Are you satisfied now?” he asked, his voice calm, almost eerily so.

“Why did you do that?” I pushed against his chest, desperate for some kind of reaction.

Still, nothing. He didn’t even take a step back.

But I refused to listen.

“You want the truth?” he continued, his voice low, not cruel but weary. “I’d never hurt you, Savannah. But you never asked what I had to give up to protect you.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded, my heart racing.

He fell silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

I looked up into his eyes, searching for some sign of vulnerability behind that calm facade. I hated that mask he wore. I wanted to see it crack, to witness his composure shatter the way mine was beginning to.

And without thinking, I did the unthinkable.

I connected my knee to his groin with as much force as I could muster, as if I were kicking a soccer ball.

“Screw you, Roman,” I spat.

His grip released me in an instant.

“Fuck!” he gasped, doubling over in pain.

“Now you know how I feel,” I said, my chest heaving as I watched him drop to his knees, clutching himself in agony.