From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 144

**Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**
**Chapter 144**

“Now I need you to tell me the truth, Roman.” Her voice quivered, each word laced with an accusation that cut deeper than any blade. “Is that why you hate your father so much? Is that what this is all about?”

My head jerked up, the sudden movement causing a sharp pop in my neck. A wave of anger surged through me, hot and violent, coursing through my veins like molten lava. If anyone else had dared to utter those words in my presence, I would have had their throat in my grip, squeezing until they could no longer draw breath.

But this was Savannah. My Savannah.

I forced myself to keep my voice steady, low, though every muscle in my body screamed for a release of violence. “Don’t you ever say that.”

She flinched at my tone but stood her ground, determination etched across her features.

“Don’t you ever accuse me of something so vile, so despicable. I know I’ve made mistakes, but letting my own father’s wife into my bed? I’d rather die than do that.”

Her lips parted in shock, and she took a step back, as if my words had physically pushed her away.

“But…” Her voice wavered, uncertainty creeping in. “I don’t understand. Then why does she—”

“Because if anyone is guilty of betrayal in this house, it’s him.” The words tore out of me, burning as they left my lips. My hands curled into fists, the veins bulging under the pressure. “He took Cassandra from me.”

Savannah’s brows knitted together, confusion and disbelief flickering in her eyes. “What? You mean—”

“Yes.” I forced myself to hold her gaze, the weight of my confession heavy in the air. “She was mine. My girlfriend. We were inseparable throughout high school and college. She was my first everything. And then one day, she simply wasn’t. My father decided he wanted her, and she went willingly.”

The disgust that twisted Savannah’s features hit me harder than any slap could.

“You’re telling me,” she whispered, her 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 when she handed herself over on a silver platter.”

She covered her mouth, as if suppressing 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 cut deep, but I held my tongue. She had yet to meet the rest of the Blackwoods, had no idea just how rotten the roots of this family tree really went.

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

Her eyes widened, as if I had sprouted 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. Are you going to deny me that?”

My mouth opened, then closed again, the realization hitting me like a slap. My own words had been turned against me, and the sting was painful.

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