Roman

I tossed the note into the fireplace on my way upstairs, watching it curl and bolacken before the flames devoured it. I couldn't risk Savannah seeing it. Not when I was already treading on ice with her.

Each step up the staircase felt heavier than the last, dread clinging to me like a second skin. The house was suddenly quiet. Too quiet. I should've been relieved that Reese was gone, that he had finally thrown himself and his loudness out of my home like the brat he was, but instead the silence wrapped itseIf around my throat. And threatened not to let go.

When I stopped in front of my bedroom, the air felt different. It was cold, and still. My instincts warned me to prepare for war from the girl upstairs.

Jesus Christ. How pathetic was this? I was Roman Blackwood, and yet I stood hesitating at the door to my own bedroom, afraid of the storm waiting inside. Afraid of her.

Savannah.

She was my best friend. My fiancée. My anchor in this goddamn mess of a life. And yet now, she was also my executioner.

I braced myself, and pushed open the door, and stepped inside.The room was silent, almost peaceful. Too peaceful. I shut the door quietly.half-turning-

Smack.

The slap cracked through the silence before the sting even registered.

My head jerked sideways, not expecting the attack.

"What the-"

"Why did you keep that away from me?! Why? For five fucking years,Roman! You made me look foolish back there!" She yelled. She was shaking, her hands balled into fists, her eyes wild and glassy. Almost like she was about to cry.

I flexed my jaw, rolling it to make sure it still worked. No one had dared touch me in years and yet this tiny, fearless woman thought nothing of it. And the worst part? I let her.

Her slap was nothing compared to the knife in her voice.

"How," she demanded, stepping closer, "can I be your best friend or even claim to be your fiancée yet remain in the dark about your family history? How is that possible, Roman?"

I exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself. "Savannah... I was trying not to overwhelm you. It was a long time ago. My father isn't the president anymore, nor the general. He's just a bitter old man now.So what's the problem?"

Her laugh came out broken and forced. She dragged both hands through her hair like she was on the edge of tearing it out. "What's the problem? What's the problem, Roman? You've got to be kidding me." She laughed again, softer this time, but there wvas no humor in it. "I can't fucking believe I fell for this shit."

"Savannah, calm down."

Her eyes snapped to mine, blazing. "Did you just tell me to calm down?!"

"Jesus Christ." I pulled my own hair in frustration. "It's not that serious,Savannah."

Her jaw dropped. "Not that serious?!" She stepped into me, close enough for me to feel the heat radiating off her trembling body. "Not that serious when your brother manhandled me and pinned me to the wall like a criminal?!"

My stomach dropped."What?"

"You heard me." Her voice cracked. "Not that serious when your father humiliated me. Asked me how far along I was, as if I'm some broodmare for your family's legacy. He disrespected me, Roman. His wife looked at me like I was... like I was beneath her."

Her chest was heaving, her breaths uneven. Each word hit me like a bullet.

What the fuck had my family done? What poison had they spewed on her when I wasn't there? I clenched my fists so tightly my knuckles popped. Reese. That prick was going to pay. No one laid a hand on her and went scot-free. Not while I was still breathing.

I forced air into my lungs, dropped the bag I was holding on the table,and stepped toward her carefully. "Savannah, I'm sorry. I am so sorry you went through all that while I was gone. They had no right. I'll handle Reese. I swear to you, he'll regret ever touching you."

She crossed her arms, tapping her foot in a steady rhythm that spoke of restrained fury. Her lips pressed tight, as if she was holding back something else.

"Go on," I urged quietly. "Say it, Sav. Spit it out."

She inhaled sharply, then let the words fly out of her mouth. "Your stepmother insinuated you're sleeping with her."

The room tilted. Everything stood still.

"Now I need you to tell me the truth, Roman." Her voice trembled with accusation. "Is that why you hate your father so much? Is that what this is all about?"

My head snapped up so fast my neck popped. Anger surged hot and violent, searing through my veins. If anyone else had dared utter those words to my face, I would've had my hands wrapped around their throat until they stopped breathing.

But this was Savannah. My Savannah.

I forced myself to keep my voice low, though every muscle in my body screamed for violence. "Don't you ever say that again. Do not accuse me of disgusting things like that."

She flinched but didn't back down.

"Don't you ever accuse me of something so vile, so despicable." My voice broke on the edges of my rage. "I know I'm quaite far from a saint.I know I've had my own fair share of sins and things I regret. But let me make it clear that I'd never take my own father's wife to bed. I'd rather die than do that.

Her lips parted in shock. She took a step back,then another.

"But..." her voice wavered. "I don't understand. Then why does she-"

"Becauseif anyone is guilty of betrayal in this house, it's him." The words burned as they tore out of me. My hands curled into fists so tight

the veins bulged. "He took Cassandra from me."

Savannah's brows knitted together. "What? You mean-"

"Yes." I forced myself to meet her eyes. "She was mine. My girlfriend.We dated all through high school and college. She was my first everything.And then one day, she wasn't. Because my father decided he wanted her.And she went willingly."

The disgust on Savannah's face hit me harder than her slap.

"You're telling me," she whispered, voice sharp with revulsion, "that the woman your father married was your girlfriend first? Your father stole your girlfriend from you?"

"She chose him, Sav. Don't call it stealing if she handed herseIf over on a silver platter."

She covered her mouth, as if holding back nausea."There is something very, very wrong with your family tree. No wonder you're all so twisted. God, Roman,this is-this is sick."

Her words carved deep, but I didn't argue. Not when she hadn't even met the rest of the Blackwoods. Not when she had no idea just how rotten the roots went.

So I asked instead, "Do you still want to visit Blackwood Manor?"

Her eyes widened like I'd grown horns. "Of course I do.You think I'll back out now? At the rehearsal dinner, you told me all I had to do was say the word, and it would be mine. Well, Roman, consider this me saying the word. I want to see Blackwood Manor. So are you going to deny me?"

My mouth opened, then closed. My own words had been used against

me. And damn, the sting is painful.

She arched a brow, her lips twisting in bitter triumph. "That's what I thought."

It was only then I noticed the suitcase on the bed,half-open, her clothes spilling into it. She was throwing her life into that bag one shirt at a time, like she couldn't get away from me fast'enough.

"What are you doing?" My voice cracked louder than I intended.

"Packing."

"No. Stay with me, my love." I grabbed her wrist, gently, desperate."Please."

She yanked free, zipped her suitcase with trembling hands. "Roman,stop.Stop being weird, Roman. I have to go back to my apartment. Clean.Take a good rest. And get ready for work on Monday." She explained in a rush.

"Don't go." My throat tightened around the words. "Stay. I'll drive you to work myself everyday if I have to. I need you here with me, Sav."

She froze, then frowned. "That sounds really weird, Roman. I'm not your kept woman."

"I didn't mean it like that.I dragged a hand down my face, fighting the pounding migraine building behind my eyes. "I just... I can't explain it.I need to feel your presence here."

Her features softened, but only for a second. "You know where I live,Roman. You know you're welcome to visit me at any time. Besides, I need space and some time alone. I need to clear my head. I need to get back in

touch with my own surroundings. There's so much my brain is having a hard time processing at the same time. The wedding. Chloe. Dean. Your family, My family. Everything."

Her words ignited a different kind of fire in me. Why did she want so badly to get away from me? Was she slipping through my fingers already?

"You can breathe here," I pushed. "Take the entire floor. Lock me out of the room if you want. Just don't leave."

Her suitcase clicked shut. She walked over to me, her expression softening with that smile that always ruined me. She cupped my face,rose on her toes, and pressed a kiss to my lips. It was gentle and sweet.

I tried to make it last longer, to anchor her, to make her stay with my mouth and my desperation, but she pulled away.

"That's super cute, Roman," she murmured. "But I've really got to go.You can always call me or come visit when you need me. If it's convenient for me. I'll come visit you." She stretched her palm out between us with a smile. "Now can I have my keys, please."

I dropped them into her hand,hating myself for it.

"I'll drive you home." I offered.

Her smile widened. "Perfect. Let's go."

She rolled her suitcase past me, light as air, as though she hadn't just gutted me alive.

I followed behind, silent, fists in my pockets. And as we headed downstairs, one thought cemented itself in my mind, dark and certain.

It was time I had a little chat with her landlord.