From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 514

Chapter 514

Hands grabbed at me again–Hudson trying to drag me off. I shoved

him back, but he barely shifted, absorbing the force like stone.

For one wild, reckless moment, a desperate thought flashed through

my mind.

Expose him. Expose everything. Tell our father that his perfect, disciplined son had impregnated a young woman outside his marriage. Drag the truth into the light and watch his empire crack.

The words hovered at the back of my throat. Then another image

surfaced.

Emily. Her adorable smile. Her innocence. Her life. The truth would not destroy Ryan alone. It would destroy her.

My fists stilled. I pushed myself off Ryan and staggered back, chest

heaving.

Hudson released me cautiously, though he didn’t move far. “I said, don’t touch me,” I warned Hudson when he stepped closer again. He didn’t move. He simply stood there, silent and watchful.

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Ryan remained on the floor, breathing hard, blood still slipping

through his fingers.

Then my father spoke.

“Roman,” he said calmly from behind his desk, “no fighting in my

office.” The normalcy of his tone stunned me more than the violence

had.

I turned slowly toward him.

He sat exactly as he always did–hands clasped together, posture

composed, gaze steady. Not a flicker of concern. Not a hint of

surprise. Not even irritation strong enough to disrupt his composure.

As if one son hadn’t just tried to beat another to death.

“That’s it?” I demanded. “That’s all you have to say?” My voice rose,

filling the room.

I pointed at both of them—father and son. “Who gave

ve you the right to

take over my office? Who gave you the right to issue orders in my

name?” My voice rose, shaking with fury. “And you-” I jabbed a

finger toward Ryan, who was now sitting upright on the floor – “who

the hell gave you the authority to replace me?”

“I did,” my father replied evenly.

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The simplicity of the answer made something inside me snap tighter.

“I made the decision because no one else was capable of handling

matters with clarity,” he continued. “Zachary was too emotionally

compromised. He lacks objectivity where Miss Hart is concerned. And

your girlfriend…” His lips curved slightly. “Let us not discuss her

incompetence. It is quite… outstanding.”

Ryan gave a quiet, blood–tinged chuckle from the floor.

I stepped forward. “Don’t you dare insult Savannah,” I said, voice low and dangerous. “She is smarter than most people in this house

combined. Including you. You don’t get to insult her.”

My father did not react.

“What do you have against her?” I demanded. “What unforgivable crime did she commit to earn your contempt? What has she done to you that justifies treating her worse than servants are treated?”

“Miss Hart is not suitable for you,” he replied without hesitation. “She is beneath you. She comes from a family of liars, thieves, and

people without principle.”

I laughed a sharp, incredulous sound. “Liars, thieves and people without principles?” I repeated. “Isn’t that us?” I shot back. “Last time

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I checked, you are all three.”

His expression remained unchanged. So I continued.

“You and your associates destroyed my wife in my absence. Your

friends violated her. Humiliated her. And she died because of you and

Penelope.” My voice shook with fury. “You lost my respect the day

you touched what belonged to your own son.”

Silence fell heavily across the room.

“Do

you

believe your

crimes will remain hidden forever?” I pressed

1. on. “A day is coming when everything you buried will surface. You speak of principles while raising animals like Randall and Ryan. You

disgust me. Men like you deserve prison and worse.”

For the first time, something flickered in his eyes. Not guilt.

Recognition. I waited for denial. For rage. For defense. For anything

that resembled humanity.

Instead, he spoke calmly.

“I am still permitted to speak about principles, Roman,” he said. “1 raised daughters. Exemplary daughters. Fine, wonderful women. Intelligent, disciplined, respectable women who understand dignity.”

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The room grew colder.

“They understand,” he continued softly, “not to become mistresses,

hidden away like filth.”

My blood turned to ice.

Ryan pushed himself to his feet too quickly, stumbling slightly as

shock overtook his features.

My father watched us both with quiet satisfaction. “Surprised I know

about little Emily Martina Hart?” he asked mildly.

His smile widened just enough to be cruel.

“Or should I say,” he added, “Emily Martina Blackwood?”

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