Chapter 152 The Best Part Roman “So, let me get this straight—your friend and lawyer threatened you over the phone after she tried to humiliate your fiancée?” Terry asked, disbelief etched across his face. “Exactly.” I stood by the window, staring out at the city, though I wasn’t really seeing it. It was already night and I hadn't gone home yet. I was still enraged. The skyline glittered like a christmas tree, lights slicing through the night. My reflection stared back—calm, expressionless—but inside, I could feel the storm building, the pulse behind my temples pounding like a warning drum. Penelope dared to threaten me. That was her first and final mistake. She must’ve gotten too comfortable, too confident, too used to the version of me that doesn’t bite back. Somewhere along the line, she forgot who I am. And that’s on me. I let her forget. I let her think I’d gone soft—domesticated, even. She’s about to remember what I look like when I deal with my enemies. “That’s wild,” Terry said, shaking his head as he slumped onto my couch. “Honestly, I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that you actually fought with her. You and Penny were thick as thieves for what—ten years? Maybe more?” I scoffed and turned back to the glass. “Yeah. More than a decade of loyalty, trust, and secrets—all flushed down the drain because she couldn’t keep her damn mouth shut.” I picked up the tumbler on the table, the ice long melted into a thin amber pool. I didn’t even take a sip. Just stared at it, watched the city lights shimmer through it, and then set it down again. “She’s gotten cocky. It’s time I clipped those wings.” Terry’s brow furrowed. “And by that, you mean…?” “I’m going to dismantle her. Slowly. Brick by brick. She’ll lose everything until she’s left with nothing but regret. And when she’s finally crawling on her knees, begging for mercy, she’ll remember exactly who built her in the first place.” He let out a low whistle, the sound almost amused. “And what exactly did she do to deserve all this wrath, huh? What did she really say to Savannah that got you this worked up?” I paused, jaw tightening. “Penelope was supposed to deliver Savannah’s divorce papers to her mother,” I said flatly. “A simple task. But instead of doing that, she decided to… improvise. She told them about Dahlia.” He blinked. “As in…?” “Yes,” I cut him off sharply. “She told Savannah’s entire family that I was married to her late sister before her. That Dahlia was my wife. Before Savannah.” “Jesus Christ.” I turned away from the window and faced him fully now. “Savannah came back to me angry, humiliated. I called Penelope—wanted to hear her out, to give her a chance to apologize. Instead, she doubled down. She talked down to Savannah. Defamed her. Penny said vile, malicious things about her.” “What did she say?” He asked, intrigued. My jaw locked. I don’t like explaining myself. Especially not when it concerns my private life—my relationship, my sex life, or anything behind closed doors. People tend to twist those things, and I don’t give the world ammunition. Not even to my closest friends. But Terry wasn’t the world. He’d seen me through worse. And for him to understand, I had to give him something. “She reduced Savannah to just a pair of legs and tits. Nothing more.” I said, feeling my anger rise. Terry’s face twisted in disbelief. “That’s—yeah, that’s uncalled for.” “Uncalled for?” I laughed dryly. “It’s suicidal. Penelope’s forgotten the hand that fed her. Forgotten who built her career, who gave her her first huge case, who defended her when the bar almost came for her license. Every goddamn milestone she’s had, she owes to me.” I slammed my palm on the desk. The sound echoed through the room. “It’s time she learns her place.” Terry leaned forward. “Roman—what do you have in mind?” I smirked. “She accused me of planning a smear campaign against her. Said I wanted to destroy her reputation, her firm, her name.” I leaned in closer, voice dropping low. “Maybe I should give her what she’s already asking for. Maybe I’ll give her something worth fearing.” Terry dragged his hand across his jaw, thinking. “You’re serious.” “Dead serious.” He studied me, and I could tell he was weighing his words. “That’s quite the statement, Roman. But let’s press pause here for a second.”“Why?” I snapped. “You think I should let it go? Let her insult my fiancée and walk away like nothing happened?” “No,” he said evenly. “I’m saying, be careful about how you do it. Because if this blows up in public, it’s not just Penny who goes down—it’s you. You’ll look like the villain who destroyed a woman’s career because she challenged him. And it doesn’t help that you were married to her twin sister, who died while still married to you.” That last sentence hit harder than I expected. For a second, the room went still. Terry’s words hung in the air like smoke. He wasn’t wrong. I exhaled, slow and sharp. “Go on.” He nodded, encouraged. “Look. You’ve got every reason to hate her. But if you move fast, if you go public, she’ll paint herself as the victim. The headlines will write themselves: ‘Powerful man destroys female lawyer for speaking out.’ You’ll feed right into her narrative.” He leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly. “But if you move slowly… quietly… that’s different. You can dismantle her life in ways that no one will trace back to you. You can make her question everything—her friends, her firm, her sanity—without ever lifting a finger in public.” My lips twitched, the beginning of a smile tugging at the corner. Now he was speaking my language. “Go on,” I said. “You know this woman better than anyone. You know her weaknesses, her fears, the things she hides even from herself. That’s where you hit her. Not in her reputation—but in her mind. You bleed her from the inside out. Slowly, so slowly she doesn’t even know she’s dying until she’s already on the floor.” He leaned forward, voice dropping to a whisper. “What’s the one thing that makes Penelope weak?” That question echoed in my head long after he asked it. What makes Penelope weak? It wasn’t money. She’d already proven she could live without that. Not status either—she was too ambitious, too stubborn to let a title define her. But people? That’s where she bled. She trusted the wrong ones. Believed in the wrong ones. Loved the wrong ones. I knew exactly how to make her crumble. I knew who to use. I turned back toward the window again, watching the city, my reflection shadowed by the skyline. “She thinks she’s untouchable,” I murmured. “But even queens bleed when you hit the right vein.” Terry gave a humorless chuckle. “I’m guessing you already have something in mind.”I looked over my shoulder, meeting his gaze. “I always have something in mind.” He studied me carefully, and for a second, I could see him wrestling with something—whether to warn me again or to stay out of it entirely. In the end, he just nodded. “Whatever you’re planning, make sure it’s clean. Don’t leave a trail.” I smiled faintly. “I never do.” He rose from the couch, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’ll check in later. Try not to burn down the world before breakfast.” As soon as the door closed behind him, the silence in the office felt different—thicker, heavier. I moved to the bar and poured myself another drink, the amber liquid catching the light as I swirled it in the glass. I wasn’t even thirsty. I just needed something to occupy my hands before I did something reckless. Penelope. She really thought she could humiliate Savannah and walk away. She thought she could talk down to me—threaten to fuck me up—and nothing would happen. My jaw clenched, and I stared down at the drink until the surface trembled slightly in my grip.I’d given that woman everything I could. I trusted her with secrets that could sink empires. I put her name on doors, her signature on contracts. I built her reputation. And now she was using it to destroy the one woman I actually cared about. Savannah didn’t deserve this. She’d been through enough—through me, through my past, through Dahlia’s ghost that still haunted every corner of our lives. Penelope knew that. She weaponized it. And for that, she’d pay. But not the way she expected. Not with noise. Not with headlines. I wanted her to unravel quietly—to question her own sanity, to second-guess every ally, to lose everything she built with her own trembling hands. I wanted her to wake up one morning and realize she was standing on the ashes of her own empire, with no idea how it happened. That’s how you destroy someone properly. Not in anger. But in precision. I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found the number I hadn’t used in so long. Of course it had to be him. He was the one she could never say no to. The one who made her stupid. Vulnerable. Weak in the knees. He was her blind spot. Her fatal flaw. And lucky for me, he owed me. A whole lot. My thumb hovered over it for a moment before I pressed call. One ring. Two. Then he answered, smooth and amused as always. “Well, well, well, Rome. Didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again.” “I need a favor,” I said. A short pause. “You don’t usually ask for favors. And besides, I could have sworn you hated me.” “Not this time.” I leaned back in my chair. “This one’s personal. It's about Penelope.” He chuckled. “I see.” “I need your help with Penelope.” He didn't waste time. “I'll be at your place in the morning.” “I'll be waiting, Reese.” I smiled to myself because I already knew exactly how to make Penelope fall. And the best part? She’d never see it coming.