From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 515

Chapter 515

Chapter 292: I Spared Them

Roman

He knew.

The realization did not come all at once. It unfolded slowly, spreading

through my veins, each second carrying the truth deeper until it

settled in my bones.

This old, calculating bastard had known about Emily all along. And

none of us had seen it coming.

My thoughts spiraled, colliding with each other in a storm I could

neither calm nor escape.

Since when had he known? How long had Emily existed under the shadow

of his awareness? And if he truly knew… Why had he not already acted?

That was what frightened me most. Not ignorance. Not cruelty. But

his patience.

Ryan stepped forward first, voice strained, the composure he so

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carefully maintained finally beginning to crack. “Let me explain—”

Reginald lifted one hand. That was all it took.The air itself seemed to

obey him. Ryan stopped mid–step, mid–breath, like a puppet whose

strings had been pulled tight.

C

“You think there is something left to explain?” Reginald’s voice was

calm, almost conversational. “If there truly were… you would have

told me long ago that you had a living, breathing child, Ryan. But you

didn’t.”

Ryan’s gaze dropped to the floor. Shame settled heavily over his

features, dragging his shoulders downward. “I’m sorry,” he said

quietly.

The words fell flat. They meant nothing in this room.

Reginald did not acknowledge them. Instead, his attention shifted to

me, his eyes sharp and assessing, like a man examining a specimen

rather than his own son.

“What is it about the Hart women,” he said slowly, “that drives you

both into such irrationality? I genuinely fail to see what you find so

captivating. They are… unremarkable. Empty–headed. Weak.

Forgettable.”

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Something inside me snapped.

I stepped forward, every muscle in my body tightening. “So what

now?” My voice came out harsher than I intended. “You’re going to

hurt Emily? Kill her too? It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve

murdered a child, would it?”

For the first time since I had begun throwing his sins in his face, he

did not deflect.

He smiled. A faint, almost thoughtful curve of the lips. “No,” he said.

“It would not.”

The confession landed like a hammer striking bone.

I glanced sideways at Ryan and Hudson, expecting outrage, disbelief- something. But neither of them looked surprised. Neither of them

reacted.

That silence said more than any words ever could.

My hands curled into fists so tight my nails bit into my palms.

“Why?” My voice trembled despite my effort to steady it. “Why are

you like this? How can you murder your own grandchild? That is a child. Your first grandchild. What could she possibly have done to

deserve death?”

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Reginald met my gaze without hesitation. “Existing,” he said.

The word echoed inside my skull, hollow and obscene. “You would kill

your own blood… simply for existing?” I asked, struggling to reconcile

the man before me with any definition of humanity I understood.

“I she ask to be born? Hell no! Why didn’t you train your son,”

etter?!”

He rose slowly from his chair, movements measured, controlled. “You

still do not understand.”

I looked at Ryan. He looked just as lost as I felt. “Understand what?” I

demanded.

Reginald walked toward the window, clasping his hands behind his

back. He stared out as though the world beyond the glass mattered

more than the people standing in this room.

“I have only ever tried to protect you all from me,” he said,

-has been

“Everything I have done–every decision, every sacrifice—h

for your future. You may choose to believe otherwise. That is your

right. But it does not change the truth.”

Rage surged through me, hot and violent.

“Protect us?” I barked. “By murdering your offspring? By

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orchestrating the assault and death of your daughter–in–law? By

humiliating my fiancée? By destroying innocent children? By forcing

a pregnant woman into doing things she never wanted? By keeping

your own son in a coma? By sucking the life out of your eldest son’s

marriage?”

My vol e with each accusation, years of pain erupting at once.

“You call that protection? Are you delusional or just simply insane?”

He did not react. Not to my anger. Not to my accusations. “I never

laid a hand on your late wife, Dahlia,” he said calmly. “Surely even you are not foolish enough to believe otherwise. Even I have lines I

dare not cross.”

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really gate the general

3 days ago

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