From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 262

**Chapter 154: I’ll Make Him Pay**

**Roman**

It was just past two in the morning when the shrill ring of my phone shattered the tranquility of the night, penetrating the serene silence that had enveloped us. The sound sliced through the darkness, jolting me from the depths of sleep, and it was loud enough to rouse Savannah, who lay beside me, her lips mumbling unintelligible words as she stirred.

I reached over cautiously, careful not to disturb her too much, and fumbled with the device to lower the volume. Yet, the screen lit up again, the call persistent and demanding. Savannah blinked sleepily, her long lashes fluttering as she rubbed the remnants of slumber from her eyes.

“Who’s calling?” she murmured, her voice still thick with the haze of sleep.

I squinted at the caller ID, my heart racing slightly. “It’s the private investigator,” I replied, propping myself up against the headboard, suddenly alert. “The one working on the Zane case.”

In an instant, her drowsiness evaporated. She shot upright, her hair a wild mess and her eyes wide with concern. “Well, answer it! He might have news about Chloe—or Zane!” Her urgency was palpable, and I could feel the tension rising in the air.

I pressed the button to accept the call, putting it on speaker. “Cole?”

“Sorry to wake you, Mr. Blackwood,” came the gruff voice of the investigator, a faint crackle of static underscoring his words.

“It’s fine,” I replied, dragging a hand down my face to shake off the remnants of sleep. “Tell me you’ve got something for us.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, a pregnant pause that felt like an eternity. “I do. But I have both good news and bad news.”

Savannah leaned in closer, her gaze fixated on the phone as if it held the key to our salvation.

“Let’s start with the bad,” I said, bracing myself for the impact.

“Zane Rubio doesn’t live in Los Angeles anymore,” Cole stated flatly. “He’s gone. Moved out permanently.”

The words hit Savannah like a punch to the gut. I could see her face fall, her shoulders slumping as disappointment washed over her.

“And the good news?” I asked, desperately hoping for a glimmer of hope to soften the blow.

Cole exhaled, the sound heavy with gravity. “We tracked him down to Capri. He’s settled in as a local tattoo artist.”

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