Roman

I should have known something was wrong the moment Reese claimed he had a migraine this morning.

The bastard had faked the whole thing. A ridiculous little stunt just to buy himself more time. I should've seen it coming, because of course he would pull something like that. And now, thanks to him, my house has been invaded.

My evil father and his harlot of a wife were here. Inside my walls.Breathing my air. Standing on my goddamn floor. And worse-they'd cornered Savannah while I was gone.

I'd left for a run to warm-up a bit. Then I took the time to visit Penny before stopping by the store to get a few things for Savannah, including her pills. Reese knew exactly where I'd gone, and he knew I wasn't giving him the option of staying much longer. He was supposed to be gone before I got back. Instead, I returned to find sleek black cars lined up outside my house like a funeral procession outside my house. The sight made my stomach twist, rage clawing at me from every angle.

Inside, the air was thick. My father's presence stretched across the living room like he owned the damn place. Savannah was standing in the middle of it all, her wide eyes darting between him,Cassandra,and Reese.

And God help me, if I hadn't walked in at that exact mnoment,she might have screamed out a yes to their poisoned invitation. I saw it clearly written on her face, in the way her body leaned ever so slightly forward.She was tempted.

Tempted by Blackwood Manor.

Tempted by that cursed place.

This was one of the reasons why I kept this away from her. Now it was all in the open. And it was all Reese's fault.

I hated it more than anywhere else on earth. A monument of cruelty dressed in marble and glass. To me, it was nothing but a mausoleumn of bad memories and terror. If you'd asked me a week ago, I would've sworn nothing could drag me back there. Not God, not money, not even the Devil himself.

Nothing good ever came out of that house.

Except her. My sweet innocent flower.

But she was snatched away from me as well. And Blackwood Manor had a huge part to play in tragedy.

And now,because of Savannah, I suddenly had a reason to go back there.

Her eyes found mine when I entered. She didn't have to say a word.Her gaze was already,an apology, a plea, a quiet dagger in my chest all at once. Forgive me, Roman.

Fuck. She was about to betray me.

I should've said no. Should've ripped the decision out of her hands before she could even open her mouth. But then her fingers brushed mine.That single, delicate touch shot through me like lightning. My heart betrayed me, hammering too fast, too hard. Excitement exploded within me like a teenager.

And then she looked at me with those damn doe eyes, soft and stubborn all at once. Eyes that saw through my anger and touched the boy I'd buried years ago. My resolve crumbled.

Like the fool I was, I melted for her.

And just like that, she seized her chance to act.

"I will not be attending, Sir," she said clearly, and for a split second,my chest swelled with pride. She'd surprised even me.

But perhaps I rejoiced rather quickly, because she wasn't done.

"Roman and I will be attending." She announced.

Her grip on my hand tightened with the weight of those words,her nails biting into my skin as if she already knew I'd try to bolt. This was her anchor, her leash, her way of holding me steady in front of wolves.

Shock flickered across my father's otherwise dead eyes. And for the first time in years, I saw a crack in that mask he always wore.

And his wife? Let's just say my ex's reaction was nothing surprising.Cassandra's response to the news was the opposite. Her lips curved into a satisfied smile, teeth catching her bottom lip like she was savoring a victory that wasn't hers.

From the way Savannah's grip tightened, almost hurting, I knew she saw that look on Cassandra's face. And I knew she was pissed.

And honestly? I wouldn't put it past Cassandra to do that to rile my fiancée up. She loved playing dirty.

I leaned down, my mouth brushing Savannah's ear, my voice low and

lethal. "What the hell are you doing?"

Her grip only tightened. "Please. Pléase, Roman. Don't embarrass me in front of these people. I'm going to cry." Her tone was soft,pleading.But there was hardness underneath it.

"So you're dragging me there against my will?" I hissed.

We probably looked insane. Whispering to each other in the middle of a room filled with enemies. Let them think we were crazy. If it pissed off my father,then good.

Savannah shook her head slightly. "It's not against your will, Romnan.Not if you grew up there. Don't you get it? This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for me to see the house of a freaking president. Do you think this opportunity comes twice?" Her eyes narrowed. "And besides, you owe me for hiding that massive piece of information from me." Her voice hardened at the end, a quiet promise that I'd hear about it later.

I clenched my jaw and leaned closer. "There's nothing to see there, my love. Nothing but rot and ghosts. And a pile of dead bodies."

"I'll be the judge of that." Her eyes glittered. "And I'm still pissed at you. So don't you dare fuck this up for me."

Fucking hell. The things I do for this woman.

"Can one of you speak up and quit whispering like a pair of rodents?"Father snapped, his tone sharp enough to frighten Savannah.

I straightened and met his cold gaze. "Believe me when I say the last place on earth I want to be is Blackwood Manor. But my fiancée has developed an... unusual interest and she wants to see the place. I'm just going to serve as her tour guide."

"But you're still going to be there, aren't you?" Reese's voice cut through,annoying as ever.

I gave him a flat look. "Didn't you hear what I just said?"

He stepped closer. Savannah stiffened immediately, her body going rigid. Instinctively, I pulled her closer to me, a silent warning to him.

"You're still coming," he repeated, his tone loaded. "That means the same thing, doesn't it?"

"And your point is?" I snapped.

Instead of answering, he laughed, then turned to Father, and said,"I told you so."

My stomach twisted. What the hell were they playing at? My father wasn't one for petty bets or games. That wasn't his style. Reese,though?He thrived on that kind of shit.

"What are you talking about, Reese?" I demanded.

He finally turned back to me, smugness dripping from every word."Let's just say Daddy and I made a little transaction. I've honored my end of the deal. My job here is done."

Before I could react, Savannah tugged on my hand,pulling me slightly down. Her whisper brushed my ear. "He made giant pancakes.Roman. Who's going to eat all that?"

I blinked.What?

I turned my glare on Reese. "You made pancakes? In my house?"

The bastard only chuckled, shrugging like he'd done me a favor. "Im

thoughtful, aren't 1?" Leisurely, he began moving towards the stairs. "See you later, sweet pea!"

The audacity.

Father looked between us like we were speaking another language entirely. He finally shook his head and glanced at his watch. "If everything's settled. I'll take my leave. I have a meeting."

Savannah nodded like a puppet, her body seemingly unable to resist his authority. I'd grown up idolizing that mask once too.I knew exactly how intoxicating his presence could be. But now I also knew what lay beneath it. And that knowledge killed whatever awe he once commanded.

Cassandra trailed after him like the obedient dog she'd become after she left me for him. But as she passed me, her hand brushed mine for the briefest second, slipping a crumpled piece of paper into my palm with such subtlety even my father missed it.

I nearly tossed it into the nearest bin without looking. I didn't want to play Cassandra's games.

But curiosity is a stubborn thing.

After Savannah stormed upstairs-furious, no doubt, at me-I retreated into the kitchen under the pretense of examining Reese's ridiculous pancakes. I unfolded the note in silence, keeping my back to the door. Wouldn't risk Savannah finding me with the letter in a situation whereby it turns out to be something spicy.

I expected filth. Maybe an invitation. Maybe even some half-baked threat. But what I found instead was unexpected. It wasn't spicy. It was confusing. More confusing than figuring out who the hell was going to eat

these fucking pancakes.

In a sloppy, hurried scrawl, the message read: 'Don't Come Home'.

The words burned in my vision, colder than my father's eyes, heavier than any memory I'd buried. Worse than anything I've ever been through.

And for the first time that day, real fear licked down my spine.