From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 81

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**
**Chapter 81**

The night enveloped the world in a cool embrace, the manicured garden standing in stark contrast under the ethereal glow of floodlights. Shadows stretched and danced, as if whispering secrets to the night. From within the restaurant, the faint echoes of laughter and the rhythmic pulse of music seeped through the walls, a distant celebration that felt worlds away from my current reality.

Moments later, the figure emerged from the venue, his silhouette momentarily illuminated by the restaurant’s warm light. It cast him in a ghostly hue, as if he were a specter slipping away from a forgotten past. He cast a wary glance over his shoulder not once, but twice, each look betraying an underlying fear that someone might be tailing him. As he approached, I could sense the tension radiating from him, the way a cornered animal might behave.

“Sorry, I had to—” he began, his voice trailing off, but I was in no mood for his excuses.

“Give me the phone,” I demanded, my tone leaving no room for negotiation.

A smirk played on his lips, a mocking half-smile that grated on my nerves. “Show me proof first,” he countered, his bravado a thin veil over his anxiety.

“Do I have to say it twice?” I shot back, my patience wearing thin.

With a reluctant sigh, he fished into his back pocket, retrieving an older, bulkier phone that looked like it had seen better days. It wasn’t the sleek model he usually flaunted. He handed it over, and I took it, my fingers dancing over the screen as I scrolled through the contents.

There it was—the video. My thumb hovered hesitantly over the delete button, and for a fleeting moment, I entertained the idea of erasing it, along with every sordid detail he thought he had on Savannah. But the thought of doing so sent a chill down my spine; deleting it would mean placing my trust in Dean, and I trusted him about as far as I could throw him.

“Are there any copies of this?” I asked, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me.

“No. Just that,” he replied, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone.

“For the sake of your legs, I hope there aren’t any hidden copies of this video, Dean,” I warned, my voice low and threatening.

He swallowed hard, forcing a chuckle that sounded more like a nervous gasp. “I never made copies. Didn’t think I’d need to. I just filmed it and… kept it. Watched it whenever I wanted to.”

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