From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 257

**Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**
**Chapter 257**

PD.

The room was thick with tension, and Roman’s laughter broke through it like glass shattering. It was devoid of warmth, a mere echo of bitterness. “You think I’ve merely found a way to cope? No, what I’ve discovered is peace. I’ve unearthed redemption. I’ve embraced love—something you will never know.” His chuckle was devoid of mirth, just a hollow sound that reverberated in the space between them. “You, on the other hand, are still tethered to the specter of your past, dragging me along in your wake. I allowed it, yes, because guilt gnawed at me. But you don’t get to tarnish the joy I’ve finally grasped just because your misery craves company.” Roman’s voice escalated, a crescendo of pent-up frustration. I felt like a statue, frozen in place, absorbing the weight of their words. This was no mere argument; it was a battlefield where both knew precisely where to strike.

“You mean you’ve merely found another woman to serve as your emotional bandage,” she retorted, her tone sharp enough to cut. “Don’t deceive yourself. Savannah is just your latest crutch.”

“Enough!” he barked, his voice a whip crack in the stillness. “Don’t project your bitterness onto her. You’ve carried your pain like a trophy for years, thinking it gives you depth. It doesn’t; it makes you pathetic.”

The silence that followed was a knife’s edge, and then her voice broke through, trembling yet fierce. “Pathetic? You dare label me as such? Roman, my twin sister was married to you. I bore witness to her gradual disappearance, day after day. I watched as she lost herself until all that remained were bones cloaked in hollow smiles. You and your family did that to her. You killed her.”

A knot twisted in my stomach, the weight of her words sinking deep.

Roman’s voice dropped to a chilling calm, each word measured and dangerous. “Careful, Penelope.”

“No,” she hissed, her voice a fierce whisper. “You don’t have the right to silence me. You destroyed my sister. You made her fall for a man who only knew how to love control and power. She perished in your home, Roman. Under your roof. And now you think you can just move on with someone new as if she never existed?”

He stood tall, anger radiating from him like heat waves. “Don’t you dare make this about Dahlia. Don’t you dare use her memory to justify your bitterness.”

“You mean the sister you’ve replaced?” she spat, venom lacing her words. “Tell Savannah, Roman. Tell her that every time you look at my face, you have to remind yourself that it’s not Dahlia’s—the woman whose blood stains your hands.”

That was the moment the dam broke.

Roman’s voice erupted, thunderous and filled with fury. “You shut your fucking mouth right now!”

The air quivered with his rage, and I stood paralyzed, heart racing, watching a man on the brink of destruction, ready to hurl the phone across the room.

But Penny pressed on. “You can curse, scream, threaten all you want—it doesn’t change what you’ve done. You buried my sister and now you flaunt a new girl like a trophy in a prettier dress. You’re sick.”

His breathing grew labored, heavy with suppressed fury. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“No,” she replied coldly, her resolve unwavering. “I’ve finally woken up. And I won’t allow you to ruin anyone else the way you destroyed her.”

“Are you threatening me, Penelope?” His voice was now a low growl, dangerous and foreboding.

“Call it whatever you like,” she shot back, unyielding. “I don’t fucking care.”

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