Chapter 155 You Heard Me Savannah I should’ve known better than to think Reese would obey even the simplest boundaries. The man didn’t understand the meaning of restraint. I’d told him to stay out of my way, to give me space, to not even look at me if he valued peace in this house. But of course, here he was, leaning against the kitchen counter like some smug statue, just watching me make breakfast. His eyes were fixed on me as if I were some damn puzzle he needed to solve. I could feel the weight of his stare even before I turned. “Cut that out, asshole,” I snapped, spreading butter over bread with more force than necessary. “Stop looking at me. You’re making me uncomfortable.” He didn’t even look away. Just smiled. “Your eyes are blue,” he said casually, like we were talking about the weather. I froze for a second before glaring over my shoulder. “No, they’re not. They’re grey.” “No,” he said, tilting his head, still studying me. “They’re blue. Just so light you think they’re grey. If the sun hit them right now, you’d see it.”I slammed the butter knife onto the counter. “You’re not supposed to be anywhere near me, Reese. Get lost.” He just kept smiling, slow and infuriating. “You’re hurting my feelings, sister-in-law. Did you get a restraining order against me?” “I’m telling Roman if you don’t back off right now. I mean it.” My voice was clipped, shaking with the kind of anger that comes from exhaustion. He raised his hands in mock surrender and leaned off the counter. “Okay, fine. No need to get all riled up. I’ve never been one to force my women—they always come willingly.” That was it. That stupid, lazy, drawling tone, the arrogance in his voice—it hit a nerve I didn’t even know was exposed. Before I could stop myself, the words came flying out. “Did Dahlia come willingly?” The moment her name left my mouth, I regretted it. The air changed instantly, turning heavy. Reese froze where he stood, eyes locked on me. The smirk vanished, replaced by something dark and dangerous. His chest rose and fell once, slow and deep, and then his hands dropped to his sides. All traces of playfulness disappeared. “Don’t ever mention that name in my presence again,” he said, voice low and deadly. A shiver crawled up my spine, but I didn’t back down. Maybe I should’ve, but I didn’t. My mouth was faster than my senses. “Why? Because she’s dead? Because your plan to get rid of your brother didn’t work? Still touchy after all these years, Reese? You’re pathetic.” I didn’t even recognize my own voice. It was sharp, trembling, laced with something between fury and fear. I didn’t know why I said it, only that I wanted to hurt him like he was hurting me by existing in my space. The look on his face, though… I wasn’t ready for it. The fury, yes—but also confusion. Deep, raw confusion. Like he genuinely didn't know what I was talking about. In an instant, he rounded the counter. “What the fuck did you just say, Savannah?” His voice thundered, disbelief shadowing every syllable. “You heard me,” I said, stepping back. He stood there, breathing hard, his jaw tight as if he was holding himself back from something violent—something we'd both regret. Then he let out a bitter laugh, dragging his hands through his hair. “I planned to get rid of my own blood brother? Are you psychotic or just delusional? Who the fuck fed you that crappy story, huh, Savannah?” “Stand back, Reese. Do not come near me.” I moved another step backward, my pulse hammering against my throat. The stairs were to my right—Roman was still upstairs, probably in the shower, unaware that his brother was unraveling down here. Reese didn’t listen. He took another step forward. “You’re out of your mind. You conjure some fantasy about me wanting to kill my brother, and you think I’ll just let that slide?” He laughed again, but it was hollow, broken. “What the fuck are you on? Molly? And here I was thinking Roman finally made a smart choice.” “You’re the one who’s out of your mind,” I hissed. “You were sleeping with your brother’s wife, so don’t try to act innocent. You disgust me, Reese. And don’t ever think I’ll be as stupid as Dahlia was—to be seduced by you.” The color drained from his face completely. For a second, he didn’t even look human—just a mix of rage and heartbreak molded into something unreadable. Then, before I could move, he crossed the space between us. His hand shot out, gripping my arm and yanking me forward so fast I almost collided with his chest. I gasped, pain bursting through my arm where his fingers dug in. And I knew right then and there that he was right about what he'd said the last time we met. He had a strong grip. “Let go!” I hissed. “That hurts!” He didn’t move. He didn’t even blink. His eyes looked unfocused, like he wasn’t really seeing me but something else entirely. “Now, I’m only going to say this once,” he said, voice low, trembling. “I did not—and will not—sleep with my brother’s wife. Ever. I might have less than a few morals, but that’s one line I will never cross.” My arm was going numb. “Reese—let go of me!” And just like that, it was over. His grip fell away, as if he’d suddenly realized what he was doing. He stepped back, staring at his own hand like it didn’t belong to him. “I’m sorry—” The sound of the slap echoed through the kitchen before I even realized what I’d done. My palm stung, my chest heaved, and Reese just stood there, eyes bloodshot, cheek already turning red where my hand had landed. “Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on me.” My voice was steady, even though my insides were shaking. He didn’t retaliate. Just stood there breathing heavily, his eyes glassy. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again, this time barely audible. The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. My heart pounded in my ears, I didn’t trust him, not for a second, but in that tiny moment, I saw something flicker in his expression—something like regret. Then it was gone. And that was when the voice cut through the tension like a blade. “What the hell is going on here?” I spun around so fast my vision blurred. Roman stood in the doorway, hair still damp from the shower. His eyes flickered between me and Reese—the distance between us, the look on Reese’s face, my trembling hands. His entire posture stiffened. “Roman—” I started, but my voice broke. Reese turned his face away, jaw tight, still breathing hard. Roman’s gaze dropped to my arm, where a faint red mark was already forming, and something dark flashed in his eyes. “Savannah,” he said quietly, “what happened?” I swallowed hard, feeling my pulse in every part of me. “It’s not—he just—” I couldn’t find the words. My voice cracked, the adrenaline turning my thoughts into static. Reese straightened, regaining that calm, amused, detached air he wore earlier. “Relax,” he said, tone eerily measured. “It was nothing. Just having a discussion.” Roman’s head snapped toward him. “Does that look like nothing to you?” His voice was low. “Did you touch her, Reese?” “I did—” Reese started, but Roman was already moving. In two strides he was across the kitchen, his hand fisting the collar of Reese’s shirt. “You touched her?” he repeated, louder this time, eyes blazing. Reese didn’t fight back. “Roman, I didn’t hurt her,” he said calmly, as if someone wasn't grabbing him by the collar “I grabbed her arm. That’s it. It wasn’t like that.” “Roman, stop,” I cut in. “It was my fault. Besides, nothing happened.” Roman’s grip tightened. “I told you—if you ever touch her—” “He didn't touch me!” I insisted. “Roman, stop!” Reese’s lips curved into something bitter. “What, you’ll do what, Roman? Kill me? Go ahead. Add that to the list of things you’ll never forgive yourself for.” The words hung there. Neither of them moved. My stomach twisted. I started this. My stupid temper and loud mouth had started this.“Stop,” I said quickly, stepping between them. My hands were shaking but I didn’t care. “Just stop it, both of you.” Roman didn’t move right away. His eyes were still locked on his brother’s. It took another second before he finally let go and stepped back, running a hand through his hair. “Leave us, Reese,” he said finally. “Now.” For a moment, I thought Reese might argue. Then, without another word, he stepped away, and headed for the door. “I'll be in the living room.” Then he left. The silence that followed was deafening. My hands were still trembling. Roman stood there, breathing heavily, shoulders tense, his jaw set so hard I thought it might crack. The vein in his neck pulsed visibly. I turned away, pressing a hand over my mouth. I didn’t want to cry, not in front of him, not now. But the tears came anyway. He was beside me a moment later, his voice softer now. “Hey, look at me,” he murmured, gently taking my face in his hands. “What did he do to you?” “Nothing,” I whispered, my throat tight. “He just… lost it. I said something I shouldn’t have, and he—he grabbed me, that’s all. I provoked him. It's all my fault.” Roman’s thumb brushed the side of my jaw. His touch was careful, protective. “You don’t have to defend him.” “I’m not,” I said quickly. “I just… I didn’t mean for it to get that bad.” He sighed, leaning his forehead against mine. “He shouldn’t have been here in the first place. I should’ve known better than to leave him with you.” I didn’t answer. I just stood there, trying to steady my breathing, trying to stop replaying the moment his fingers closed around my arm. Roman pressed a kiss to my forehead. “He won’t touch you again,” he said quietly, a promise laced with fury. “I promise.” But as I stood there in his arms, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something far darker had just been set in motion—something neither of us fully understood yet. Because for all the hatred in Reese’s eyes, there had been confusion too. A flicker of pain. Like the name Dahlia had resurrected ghosts we weren’t supposed to disturb. And for the first time, I wondered if everything I thought I knew about Reese—and about that story—wasn’t the full truth at all. Or maybe, it wasn't even the truth at all…