From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 82

**Chapter 82: I’ll Test the You Aller**

Renan

As I stepped back into the room, I spotted Savannah engaged in conversation with an older woman. Instantly, I sensed that something was amiss.

Her posture was unnaturally rigid, her back perfectly straight, shoulders tense as if she were bracing for impact. I could see her nails digging crescent-shaped imprints into her thigh, a silent testament to the discomfort she was enduring. It was clear that whatever the woman was saying was weighing heavily on her.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I strode purposefully toward them, my heart racing with the need to shield her from whatever distress was being inflicted.

I slipped my arm around her waist, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder from behind, disregarding every social convention in that moment.

She didn’t turn to face me; instead, she seemed to melt into my embrace, as if my presence alone was the anchor she needed to avoid unraveling. Her fingers intertwined with mine, gripping tightly as she continued to listen to the woman’s chatter.

“Oh my goodness, you two make such a beautiful couple!” the woman exclaimed, her enthusiasm palpable as she momentarily lost her train of thought.

“Thank you,” Savannah replied, her voice polite yet strained, her grip on me tightening as if I were her lifeline.

“As I was saying, dear… It’s such a shame things didn’t work out between you and—”

Savannah cut her off, her voice firm yet courteous. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Malcolm. Always lovely to see you. Please excuse us.”

Her smile remained perfectly composed as she tugged me away, leaving the woman blinking in surprise, her words trailing off into the background.

“Sorry about that,” Savannah murmured, the pulsating music around us almost drowning out her voice.

“Let me guess… chatty old lady?” I ventured, trying to lighten the mood.

“You could say that.” Her laugh was brittle, a fragile sound that caught in her throat, revealing just how much she was holding back.

“An obsessive ex?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

She stiffened at my words. “Yeah… something like that. College days. She still ships—”

Another lie slipped from her lips, and this one tasted even more venomous.

“Relax. You’re wound too tight,” I said, trying to ease her tension.

“I’m fine. I just need a drink.” She reached for a tray that was passing by, her eyes momentarily flickering with desire.

I caught her wrist gently but firmly. “No, you don’t.”

Her brow arched in surprise. “What now? Playing chaperone?”

“Just keeping you clear-eyed so I can fuck you again when we get back.” My hand slid lower, resting possessively on her backside. “This time…”

She froze, a wave of pink flooding her cheeks. A cough escaped her lips, a poor attempt to mask her embarrassment. Yet her eyes darted over my shoulder, searching for any onlookers who might be eavesdropping.

“We’re in public, Roman,” she hissed, glancing around anxiously. “Someone might hear you.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Wouldn’t be polite not to give them a show to go with that,” I shot back teasingly.

She gasped, swatting my chest playfully. “Roman!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She was acting as if someone had actually overheard us.

Leaning in closer, she whispered fiercely, “Say something like that again and I’ll kick you where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“Go ahead,” I murmured, my voice low and teasing as the noise of the crowd faded into the background. “I’ll test it on you afterward. See if it still works.” I winked at her, enjoying the playful banter.

Another gasp escaped her lips, but before she could retaliate, a voice cut through the noise.

“Roman!”

Savannah turned, her expression shifting as she recognized the voice. “Dad?”

He completely ignored her, instead clapping a hand on my shoulder with an air of authority. “My wife’s been looking for you. Come on, my friends are dying to meet you. I told them all about you.”

Why does everyone around her treat her like a decorative prop? Now he’s going to parade me around like a trophy while ignoring her? This wasn’t happening.

I maintained a polite smile, though irritation simmered beneath the surface. “I’ll have to decline, sir. My fiancée’s tired. We were just heading out.”

The couple hadn’t even danced yet, and your sister says she has an announcement to make. You—

He frowned at Savannah. “Tired already? You should be here to support her, Savannah.”

Savannah’s smile turned into a porcelain mask, the hurt she was trying to conceal threatening to spill over.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll wait here, Roman. You go on,” she insisted, her voice steady but her eyes betrayed a flicker of fear.

Over their shoulders, I caught sight of Savannah standing alone in the crowd, sipping water, her eyes vacant and fixed on nothing in particular.

With each passing second her father kept me here, parading me around like a show pony, the urge to walk away grew sharper, more insistent.

One of the wives leaned in, her perfume hitting me like a sledgehammer.

“So, Roman… Any tips for someone looking to dabble in hedge funds? My husband’s been talking about moving some of our—”

“Don’t,” I interrupted flatly, my tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.

Her laughter faltered, confusion flickering across her face. She thought I was joking.

I wasn’t.

Her father jumped in, clearly eager to diffuse the awkwardness. “Ah, he’s just being coy. You know, keeping his edge close to the chest. That’s what makes him—”

“I should check on my fiancée,” I interjected, already stepping back from their circle.

“Stay, stay,” he urged, his hand catching my arm in a futile attempt to keep me there. “I told them all about your mergers and—”

“I’m sure you did,” I replied, my voice polite enough to pass but cold enough to warn. “My fiancée’s been standing alone for too long. Excuse me.”

Before he could pull me back into his circle, I was already moving, threading my way through the crowd and leaving his strained laughter behind.

The moment I reached Savannah, her eyes lifted to meet mine, and the fake smile she had been wearing softened, revealing the warmth beneath.

“You looked like you wanted to bite someone’s head off,” she said under her breath, a playful glint in her eye.

“I almost did.” I reached for her hand, intertwining our fingers. “Let’s get out of here before I actually do.”

We barely took two steps toward the exit when the music screeched to a halt, drawing every head toward the stage.

Chloe stood there in her snow-white gown, a glass of wine in hand, a smirk sharp enough to cut glass.

“Before anyone leaves,” she cooed, her voice dripping with faux sweetness, “we have a little announcement to make.”

Savannah’s grip on my hand went rigid, a sense of dread washing over her as the room fell silent.