Chapter 217 Favorite Sibling? Roman Savannah is lying flat on her stomach beside me, her legs kicked up behind her and crossed at the ankles. The black bikini she’s wearing is completely illegal—not because it’s revealing, but because I can’t look anywhere else when she’s in it. Her hair is tied in a messy bun, a few strands brushing her shoulders as the breeze picks them up. Her phone is balanced on her palms like she’s holding some sacred relic. “Favourite word?” she asks out of nowhere. I don’t think. I don’t need to. The answer is already carved into my bones. “Savannah.” She looks at me over her shoulder, lips twitching into a slow, satisfied smile. “That was smooth, Roman. Very smooth.” I shrug like it wasn’t intentional. “I’m being sincere, my love.” “Favourite color?” She asks again. Again. I don't think. “Yellow.” She rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide the smile. “Okay, Romeo. Next question.” After the morning we’d had—the kind that leaves your muscles sore and your heartbeat a little too erratic—she wanted the rest of the day on the beach. Just us. No interruptions. No drama. No horrible shadows creeping in to ruin what little peace we manage to steal. I didn’t object. I wouldn’t object to anything she asked for today. All I want is time with her. Just her. Just… us. She scrolls. “Who was your favourite parent while growing up?” “My mom,” I answer without hesitation. “She was the cool one. The one who let us have a little fun. My father has always had a stick up his ass.” She snorts, loud and unfiltered—a sound I’ve come to like far too much. “Alright,” she says, scrolling again. “Next question—” “Another one?” I groan. “Don’t you know all this already?” “Shh.” She nudges my thigh with her foot. “You’re spoiling the game. You’re supposed to answer everything truthfully.” “I am answering truthfully.”“Good.” She clears her throat dramatically. “What’s a motto you live by every day?” I take a sip of my beer, thinking about it. The words come out easier than I expect. “I am my only competition.” Her mouth falls open as she stares at me like I just declared myself a deity. “How arrogant.” I laugh. “It’s not exactly a lie, is it?” She shakes her head with mock disappointment. “Cocky.” “Truthful.” I correct. “Whatever.” She scrolls again. “Favourite sibling?” Ah. That one. I pause, letting the breeze fill the space between us for a moment. “That’s kinda hard, Sav.” She props her chin on her wrist, eyes glittering with curiosity. “I’m curious.” “Okay. First things first, there’s a lot of us. A whole lot—” “How many?” “You’ll find out when we get to—”She narrows her eyes. I can practically hear the warning bells ringing. “Cut the bullshit, Roman. Just tell me already.” I sigh. “Eight.” She shoots upright like someone zapped her. “What? You have six other siblings besides Ryan and Reese?” Her voice jumps an octave. “What the actual—?” I run a hand through my hair, wishing this wasn’t the kind of conversation that needed to happen like this. “Yes. That’s why I wanted you to see for yourself. It’s… a lot to take in.” “A lot?” she repeats, stunned. “Roman, this is madness. How do all of you live under the same roof without killing each other? I grew up with just Chloe and Alyssa and we practically declared war daily. How do eight of you not rip each other’s hair out?” I laugh because she’s not wrong. “Believe it or not, we get along pretty well. Well… most of us do.” I correct myself, remembering one who isn't very friendly. “And it helps that we didn’t all grow up together. That would've been a nightmare.” She shakes her head, amazed. “Wow. That explains so much.” She sits back, studying me like she’s trying to imagine me squeezed into a house with eight siblings. God.“My father is embarrassing, isn't he?” “Can I ask,” she says carefully, “how many women? Aside from your mother.” “Two. He had kids with two other women.” “Oh.” She nods slowly. “So that makes three mothers total. Interesting.” “Interesting?” I echo, amused. “Yeah. Like a math problem I wasn’t prepared for.” She waves her phone. “So how many siblings from your mom? Like blood siblings. Not half-siblings.” “Four. Ryan, Reese, Rhys, and River.” She repeats the names softly, like she’s testing how they feel on her tongue. It’s cute as hell and it warms something in my chest I didn’t expect. Then she freezes. “Wait.” She counts again. Then frowns. “Do all of you have names starting with R?” I exhale. “Yes. You finally noticed.” “Why? I thought it was a coincidence.”I shrug. “Family tradition. My father swears by it. His father did the same. And his father before him. My great-grandfather, Roger, started it. So now my father thinks it’s a legacy that must continue.” Her eyebrows shoot up. “Hold up… You all have the same initials?” “Unfortunately,” I mutter. “Thank God my mom insisted on diverse middle names. If she didn’t, it’d be a total disaster.” She bursts into laughter—loud, unfiltered, real laughter. “I actually think it’s kind of cool. It’s… unique.” “It’s not cool if you remember who my father is and what he represents.” My jaw tightens as I crush the can slightly. “I want my kids to have normal names with no tradition. No expectations. Nothing tying them back to him.” She looks at me quietly, studying the tension in my shoulders. “What if I want the R-names tradition?” she teases softly. “No.” I say it immediately, without thinking, and her playful expression fades for a second. I soften my voice. “Sav, that tradition isn’t cute for me. It’s a chain.” She nods slowly, understanding.“But your late aunt,” she tries again, “Felicia… why wasn’t she an R?” “She was. Her real name was Rachel. She chose Felicia instead because she didn’t want anything tying her to the family. Felicia was her way out. Her ticket to a normal life.” I swallow. “Sadly, it was cut short.” Savannah’s face falls. “Oh. I’m sorry.” “It’s fine,” I say, a little too quickly. It isn’t fine. It never will be. But I don’t want to sink the day. She clears her throat gently, switching topics. “What about the other women? Did your mom know about them? Before she died?” “She knew,” I say. “She knew about the other children too. She even met some of them. But it was after her death that our father opened the doors of Blackwood Manor and brought everyone under one roof.” “Was he aware that she knew?” she asks. “Maybe that’s why he waited. He might have been scared of her finding out.” I actually laugh—a dry sound. “Reginald Blackwood fears no one. Not even my mom. He knew she knew. As for why he waited?” I shrug. “Only he knows.” “Your father gives me goosebumps,” she murmurs. “The bad kind.” I smile. “Welcome to the club.” She smiles faintly, then glances at her phone again. “Back to the question. Who’s your favourite sibling?” “Ah, yes. The impossible one.” I stretch out on the towel. “As much as they annoy the hell out of me, I do love them. Not all of them though. But I love my siblings in their own disastrous ways. So it’s hard to pick one. But…” “But…?” she prods. “But I’ll answer honestly.” “Deal.” “Growing up, it was Reese.” I pause. “And at some point, Rhys. You’ll like him. He’s… soft where the rest of us are jagged. Alyssa reminds me a little of him.” Savannah smiles softly, probably imagining it. “Then it was Ryan for a while,” I continue. “Before my mom died.” The memory twists something bitter in my chest. I push through it. “And now… it’s Reese again. I guess.” She frowns. “Why the uncertainty?”I take a breath that feels heavier than the others. “I haven’t talked to the others since I left the Manor. They probably hate me now.” She sits up completely and cups my cheek with her warm hand. “No. They don’t. They’re your siblings. I’m sure they understand.” I scoff. “Maybe. Or maybe they think I abandoned them.” “Roman.” Her thumb brushes my cheek. “You needed space. Anyone with half a conscience would understand that.” I look at her, all sun-kissed skin, messy bun, and soft, gentle eyes that somehow see everything I don’t say. “We’ll find out soon,” I say quietly. “Either way.” She lowers herself beside me again, resting her head on her arms. “Either way,” she echoes. I stretch out my arm, and she shifts until her head rests on my chest. Her weight settles over me like gravity finally decided to do something right. She breathes, slow and deep. And I breathe with her just for a moment because God knows moments like this never last for us. “Least favourite sibling?” She asks quietly. “I'll go first. Mine is Chloe. Obviously.” I laugh a little, staring off at the water. “I don't know.” “Why don't you know?” I take a deep breath. “If I begin counting offences, I'll list all eight of them. People wrong people. Even siblings. At some point, I'm sure I've been their worst sibling as well. I've also offended them too.” “And your point is…?” I smile. “It's not that easy, Sav. We all can't have a Chloe.” “Okay. Let me change that a little.” She clears her throat. “Who is the least pleasant to be around?” That's easier to answer. Only one name came to mind immediately. “Randall.”