"I don't know what you're talking about."

The words spill out quickly, sharper than I mean them to,and I turn my face toward the window. Anywhere but him.

"Sav." His voice is steady and unhurried. He crosses one leg over the other, a picture of calm authority that makes my pulse quicken. "Perhaps you don't understand what is going on."

I suddenly feel like I'm standing trial for murder. And he is the judge,deciding my fate.

He laces his fingers together and rests them on his knee, watching me too closely. "Your father leveled some pretty heavy accusations against you today. And frankly..." He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. "I don't believe him. I'll only believe you. That's why I'm asking you again. What happened with the Kingstons?"

The name slices through me. Kingston. My chest tightens, the air thins. The word drags me backward in time, to a night I've buried, to whispers I've trained myself to rewrite.

I freeze. My body is here,perched on the edge of the bed,but my heartbeat has carried me elsewhere... Back to the echo of a locked office door, the smell of chalk dust, paper and cologne.

I grip my knees hard, digging my nails into my own skin. If I let go,I'Il come apart.

"I..." My mouth goes dry. I feel trapped. Pinned to the bed as if Invisible hands are holding me down. It's like being dragged back to that

night all over again. My heart pounds so loudly it feels like it rattles my ribs. Chloe and Dean are just in the next room, and for a fleeting second I m terrified they can hear the thunder in my chest.

"Savannah?" His voice softens.

I force my eyes up to him, then down again. My lips move before I can stop them. "What did he tell you?"

He lifts a shoulder in a careless shrug. "His own version. But that's not the one I want. I need to hear yours."

The floor tilts beneath me. His words are steady, but mine scatter like leaves in a storm. Fear rushes through me immediately, mixing with shame.

"I don't know how to start," I whisper.

"You don't need to start from anywhere," he says, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "You're talking to your best friend, Sav. Just...speak."

I dig my nails into my thighs through the fabric, desperate for an anchor. My nails leave crescents on it as I suck in a jagged breath. "I was young." The words scrape against my throat. "Really young. And stupid.And foolish. And wild."

The list tumbles out too fast, rehearsed like lines from a play I've performed too many times. My chest heaves, but I force the rest. "And he...He was handsome, charming, and he smiled a lot. Too much."

My mouth twists around the words, but my shoulders betray me,curling inward as if bracing myself for a blow.

I steal a glance at Roman. His expression is unreadable, his posture elegant, composed, untouched by my unraveling. Asif I wasn't washing my dirty linens in his presence.

"Go on, Sav. I'm listening."

I swallow, but the lump in my throat won't move. My jaw locks so tight my teeth ache, sending a migraine straight to my brain.

"His name was Asher Kingston," I say finally, my voice low, thin.The sound of his name burns. "He was my professor in college."

My stomach clenches. My palms are slick. My fingers worry the hem of my sleeve, pulling at loose threads.

"And I..." My lips part, but the word won't come. I close my eyes and force it out. "I had an affair with him."

The revelation lands heavy in the air.

I can'tlook at him. My gaze drops to the rug, to the frayed edge unraveling thread by thread.

The silence swells, pressing in on me from every side.

Shame claws up my throat. The words feel borrowed, stolen from a script someone else wrote and pressed into my mouth to say. And yet I've told the story so many times, even to myself, that sometimes I almost believe it.

Almost.

My body knows better. My shoulders lock. My hands tremble. My chest rises and falls too fast, as though I've run miles.

"I thought I was special." I say suddenly, the words tumbling out messy and unpolished. "I thought... I thought it was love. That he saw me.when no one else did."

My voice breaks. I press my palms together hard, the friction burning.

"I was twenty-one. Reckless. I wanted to be chosen and noticed.Loved. And he knew exactly what to say. Exactly how to make me believe I was special."

A tremor runs down my arms. I rub them quickly, as though warding off a chill that isn't there.

"At first it felt... exciting. Like a secret worth keeping. The thrill was the best part." The words are flat, mechanical. "But when people found out." I paused, bracing myself for the worst part. "When his wife found out, it ruined everything. My father... he said I disgraced him. That I disgraced the family name."

I bite the inside of my cheek untilI taste iron.

"But no one ever saw what it really was," I add, my voice so faint it barely makes the air. My nails dig into my palms now, carving half-moons."No one saw how he made me believe I needed him. That I couldn't...shouldn't say no."

I stop myself. My chest is heaving, my throat raw. Too much slipped through. Too much I shouldn't have said.

I force a shaky exhale and paste the mask back on. "That's the truth."

My eyes flick up at him, desperate for a sign. Sympathy,belief,anything. But he gives me nothing. His face is composed, marble-smooth,his eves green pools I can't read.

I can feel the tears burning at the edges, but I swallow them back down. I won't let them fall. Not now.

"So," I manage, my voice steadier than I feel. "That's my version.Whatever mny father told you, it isn't the whole story."

The silence stretches long enough to choke me. The clock ticks somewhere in the distance, each second a hammer against my ribs.

He leans back slowly, one hand running along his jaw, as though weighing the words I've just poured out. His gaze lingers on me,unblinking, steady.

Finally, he speaks. His voice is quiet and controlled. Laced with something I can't name.

"That's not the version I heard."

The air leaves my lungs instantly.

The words fall between us like a blade, and suddenly I'm not sure if I've buried myself, or if he's about to dig deeper than I can survive.