Present

Savannah

It is done...

The words echo inside me even though I never said them out loud.I told Roman everything. Not just fragments, not the carefully edited pieces I've been giving him these past week. No. I laid it bare, all of it, every ugly corner. Everything he overheard from Uncle Jace, everything I had sworn to bury deep and never unearth.

The cat is finally out of the bag.

What's the worst that could happen now anyway? He recoils from me?Keeps me at arm's length? Treats me like something broken, untouchable?Or worse-he tracks down Asher Kingston and puts a bullet between his eyes for what he did to me so many years ago.

Roman sits on the couch, fists balled so tight his knuckles turn white.They rest against his knees like anchors. A thick vein pulses across his temple, standing out like it's about to burst, showing his anger. His eyes are locked on the floor, but the fury radiating off him is enough to make the air thick, hot, and difficult to breathe.

He looks enraged. He looks dangerous. He looked nothing like the clean-cut finance guy I've known for years now. And when he finally speaks, his voice scrapes across my bones. "Why did you lie to me?"

The silence between us until now has been suffocating. His voice is worse.

I folded my arms, taking in as much air as I could. "What would I have said to you-"

The question barely leaves my lips before he explodes. He's on his feet in one violent movement. the coffee table upended with a crash that rattles the frames on the wall. "Do not give me that!" His roar shakes through me."Do not give me that flimnsy excuse, Savannah! You fucking lied to me!"

I flinch instinctively, but I don't back down. My voice is small,but steady. "Do not raise your voice at me, Roman. There's no need to dig up dead bodies. It's in thé past. I've gotten over it. I've grown past the pain."

The mantra rolls off my tongue without thought. A chant I've repeated so many times it feels rehearsed, forced into me until it became second nature.

.Roman's chest heaves, his breath sharp and ragged. "Are you out of your mind?" He takes a slow, deliberate step toward me, then another."Are you being serious, or are you just trying to rile me up?"

Maybe they were right. My father, my mother, the whispers behind closed doors. Maybe now that I was finally older, I could see it clearer. My mouth moves before I can stop it.

"Maybe my dad was right. Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I shouldn't have been obsessed with wearing skirts that short, or tops that tiny. Maybe I shouldn't have been so friendly with my professor. Maybe I shouldn't have smiled at him or baked him cookies. Maybe I shouldn't have given him mixed signals. Maybe I shouldn't have-"

The rest of my sentence shatters with the sound of Roman's fist slamming into the portrait hanging behind me. The canvas jolts sideways on its nail, the glass spiderwebbing instantly. His fist is inches from my

head. I jerk back, trembling, the world tilting for a second. ugly memories dancing around my subconscious.

"Don't you dare say that again," he growls, his forehead nearly pressed to mine. His voice is raw, ragged. He's breathing like he ran miles."How dare you blame yourself for his animalistic ways? How can you take the blame for a man who had no self-control? Jesus Christ,Savannah-what the hell have they done to you?"

What has my family done to me? A lot. More than I can ever put into words. More than he can ever understand.

I turn my head away, refusing to look into his blazing eyes. My gaze drops to his knuckles. Torn skin. Blood drips down the back of his hand,curling around his wrist, slipping onto his forearm in crimson rivulets.Tiny shards of glass glitter, embedded in his flesh. But he doesn't take notice.

"You're bleeding." My voice is barely above a whisper. "I should clean that."

He seizes my chin, forcing my face back toward him. "Don't you dare change the subject."

"Roman, please." I sound desperate, like I'm the one whose skin is torn and raw. And not him. "That looks bad. It'll get infected."

"I don't care."

"But I care." My throat tightens. I lean closer,speaking softer,trying to coax him down. "You're dripping blood all over my precious carpet.Who's going to clean that up?"

His lips twitch like he wants to be furious, but he exhales charnlv

instead. "You're unbelievable. Cracking jokes at a time like this."

The edges of his anger falter. He lets me tug at his wrist,guiding him backwards onto the couch. I push at his shoulders until he sits. Then I dart away, my feet carrying me quickly down the hall before his temper flares again.

The first aid kit feels too light in my hands when I return. Roman hasn't moved. His gaze burns holes through me as I kneel in front of his spread legs and pop open the box. His hand is heavy when I take it.I begin plucking out the slivers of glass with tweezers, my own fingers trembling. He doesn't even flinch. Doesn't even wince when I pour alcohol over the wounds. The scent of antiseptic burns my nose. Blood blooms against white gauze like a beautiful painting.

He breaks the silence first, voice low and hard. "I'm going to kill him."

My hands still, hovering over his.

"I'll end him, Savannah.Just you wait."

The promise in his tone chills me to my marrow. "Roman, enough."I force my voice steady. "Stop dragging me back to places I fought so hard to escape from."

He jerks forward,looming over me, his glare searing. "How can you be this passive towards a man who once raped you. And even towards your family who never fail to turn their backs on you. How do you live with that, Savannah? Jokes? Laughs? Witty comebacks? Sex? Is that it? Is that how you cope?"

The words sting, sharp and unfair, but I can't stop the bitter scoff that slips out. My eyes meet his, hollow but defiant.

"Twice," I voiced out. "He raped me twice, Roman. Not once."

The room collapses into silence.

Hlis jaw tightens, every muscle in his body freezing solid. My own heartbeat thunders so loud it fills the void between us. The weight of my confession sits there, heavy and immovable, daring either of us to break.

And he doesn't. Not yet.