From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 134

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**

He pressed a hand theatrically against his forehead, letting out a groan that echoed through the quiet room. “God, not you too, sister-in-law. Just when I was starting to get fond of you.”

My skin prickled with irritation. “I’m not your sister-in-law,” I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended.

In an instant, he closed the distance between us, his movements fluid and confident. My heart raced as he grasped my hand, lifting it gently between us in a way that felt both intimate and mocking. “You are,” he murmured, his eyes glinting with a mischievous light that sent a shiver down my spine. “That ring belonged to my mother. Wearing it makes you family, whether you like it or not. You’re Roman’s bride.”

I yanked my hand away as if his touch burned, my pulse racing with indignation. “Don’t touch me.”

He flashed a grin, raising his palms in a gesture of mock surrender, but the way his gaze lingered was anything but innocent. “Got it.”

I took a step back, desperate to create some space between us, needing to breathe. “When are you leaving, Reese?” I asked, trying to keep my tone steady, though the tremor in my voice betrayed my unease.

Instead of a direct answer, his grin widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Now I see what he saw in you.”

I clenched my fists at my sides, frustration bubbling beneath the surface, but I forced myself to respond calmly. “And what’s that?”

“Himself,” Reese replied matter-of-factly. “You’re both very alike. He’s just more controlling and… forceful.”

My body stiffened at his words. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Couples often mirror each other.”

“It is when the mirror cracks.” His tone shifted, becoming serious, almost somber. “And trust me, with my brother, it always cracks.”

Anger surged within me, hot and fierce. “Why would you say that?” I demanded, my voice rising.

“You’ll find out, pretty girl.” He winked at me, his retreat back to his pancakes casual, as if our conversation had been nothing more than a game.

I hated him. There was no denying it now. I hated his smug demeanor, his cryptic riddles that felt like barbs, the way he seemed to burrow under my skin and rearrange my insides without lifting a finger. His veiled messages, his mocking laughter—everything about him grated on my nerves.

“Are you leaving after breakfast?” I tried again, my voice steady as I watched him pop strawberries into his mouth like they were mere candy.

“No, sister-in-law.” His tone dripped with sarcasm, a smirk playing on his lips. “Not yet.”

“Why? Roman doesn’t even want you here. I’m the one who convinced him to let you stay. And now you’re rubbing me the wrong way. You need to leave.” I pointed toward the door, injecting authority into my voice, willing it to be powerful.

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