From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 33

**Chapter 23: The Snake And The Weasel**

**Roman**

“When we made the decision to embark on this adventure with you, I honestly never imagined we would find ourselves in a place like this,” I remarked, trying to wrap my head around the extravagant surroundings.

Chloe took a leisurely sip from her drink, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, it was Dean’s idea, really. I just went along for the ride… but isn’t it simply marvelous? We get to indulge in such scandalous fun before the wedding!” Her laughter escaped her lips, light and airy, as she gestured animatedly at the lush environment around us.

This place was nothing like the sleazy joints back in Philly. No, this establishment radiated sophistication and luxury. It was clear that secrets were exchanged within these walls, and not a whisper of them would escape into the outside world.

Gone were the garish neon signs and sticky bar stools. Instead, the lighting was dim and inviting, casting warm, honeyed shadows across the velvet booths and polished floors. The air was thick with the scent of affluence—expensive perfumes mingled with the rich aroma of cigars and an air of tantalizing mystery. The dancers on stage glided like silk, twisting and curling their bodies in ways that defied the laws of physics, adorned only in towering heels and sparkling diamonds.

And yes, I had frequented my fair share of such establishments. Back home, I was a VIP at one of the most exclusive clubs.

All work and no play makes Roman a very dull man, after all.

We settled into a private lounge, the floor-to-ceiling curtains offering us a sense of seclusion. A bottle of Moët sat chilling in a silver bucket, already perspiring from the cold.

With a flourish, Dean popped the cork and poured the champagne as if he were performing a grand act, already tipsy from the night’s festivities. One stubborn corner of his shirt clung to his waistband, as if it hadn’t received the memo that he was unraveling. Chloe nestled beside him, curling up like a cat claiming its territory, her gaze fixed on me.

Savannah, ever the realist, muttered under her breath, “We could’ve just gone for tacos.”

Dean shrugged nonchalantly. “We thought we’d try something different. You only live once, right, Sav?”

“Well, it’s loud and a bit unsettling,” she replied, rubbing her arms as if she were chilled by the atmosphere.

Dean’s gaze dropped to Savannah’s chest, and in that moment, he decided it was the perfect opportunity to say something utterly crass.

Leaning in, his breath reeking of alcohol, he whispered, “Well, she used to moan louder than the music in here.”

Savannah gasped, her eyes wide with shock. Chloe was blissfully out of earshot, oblivious to the inappropriateness of his comment.

I seized Dean by the collar, my voice low and threatening. “If you want to find yourself at the bottom of a river by tomorrow, I dare you to repeat that.”

He didn’t take the bait.

Instead, he simply grinned, winked at Savannah, and crawled back to Chloe, who was blissfully unaware of the exchange.

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