Chapter 245 Which One Are You? Savannah There really wasn’t a proper word for the bedroom. I searched for one as I stood just inside the doorway, my hand still resting on the door handle, my body frozen like I might be intruding on something sacred—or cursed. Grand didn’t quite cover it. Luxurious felt cheap in comparison. Extravagant didn’t capture the weight of it. Majestic came closest. The room looked like something lifted straight out of a historical painting, the kind framed in gold and guarded by velvet ropes in museums. Deep crimson drapes cascaded from the ceiling, pooling against polished marble floors. Gold detailing traced every surface—along the furniture, the walls, the molding, even the edges of the mirrors. Nothing sparkled obnoxiously, yet everything gleamed with a kind of quiet arrogance, like it knew it was priceless and just didn’t need any validation. And the bed. God.It was massive. Oversized to the point of intimidation. A canopy bed—an actual fucking canopy bed—in this century. Thick red fabric hung from carved golden posts, framing crisp sheets and pillows that looked untouched, unslept in. Like no one had ever truly rested there. Strange. That was the word that finally settled in my chest. Strange and wrong. I stepped inside and let the door close behind me with a soft, final click that echoed far too loudly in the silence. The air was cool—too cool. Not the pleasant chill of air conditioning, but something heavier. Still. As though the manor itself was holding its breath. I wrapped my arms around myself without realizing I’d done it, rubbing my hands up and down my arms as I crossed the room, feeling rather small. My footsteps sounded muted against the floor, swallowed instantly. No creaks. No distant hum. No voices drifting through walls. Nothing. Yet I knew I wasn’t alone. Asides Reginald, Roman, Reese, the security and staff, seven people lived here. Seven individuals hiding behind these walls, each with their own intentions, secrets, and loyalties. The thought settled uncomfortably in my stomach. I reached the bed and sat on the edge, the mattress dipping slightly under my weight. It was softer than I expected. Warmer. That only made the hollowness sharper. This wasn’t home. I lay back slowly, staring up at the canopy as my chest rose and fell with a long, exhausted breath. My mind betrayed me instantly, dragging me backward in time to the first moment I’d heard about this place. How excited I’d been. How curious. How naive. I cringed now just remembering it. I would give anything to go back to our place. To our bed. To Roman’s arms around me in the dark, his steady breathing against my neck. Our small, imperfect, warm world. But it was too late now. Only now did I truly understand why Roman had never wanted me anywhere near this manor. Why he’d always insisted when I asked questions. Why his jaw tightened whenever his family was mentioned. I have come to realize that most of the things I argued with him about? That was him protecting me from what I didn't know. I'm so sorry, Roman. I should have treated you better. I already hated it here. Yes, the wealth was obscene. The grandeur was undeniable. But stripped of all that, the manor felt empty. Loveless. Cold in a way that had nothing to do with temperature. I turned my head toward the window, watching heavy curtains sway faintly despite there being no breeze. I closed my eyes and I prayed. The first prayer slipped out silently, fragile and selfish. Please let me have someone on my side here. Bring me someone who is good and kind. The second followed quickly, desperation bleeding into it. Please bring Reese here fast. And safe. The third lodged painfully in my chest before finally escaping. Please wake up, Roman. Please. Wake up so we can get the hell out of here. My throat tightened. I rolled onto my side and reached for my phone, forcing myself to focus. I typed out two messages—one to Alyssa, one to Jace—letting them know I’d arrived and that I was okay. Even as I sent the texts, guilt gnawed at me. This was my fault. Alyssa. Emily. Mom. All of them dragged into this mess because of me. Alyssa and Emily were stranded now, forced to stay with Jace until things settled. Thank God he’d agreed without hesitation. Well, why wouldn't he agree? Alyssa was his daughter too. And Emily was his granddaughter. I stared at the screen, my reflection faintly visible against the dark glass. What if I’d endangered Emily by bringing her anywhere near this family? Near the general. Her grandfather. I swallowed hard. I just hope he didn’t suspect anything at the hospital. I let the phone fall onto the bed beside me and dragged a hand down my face. What a shit show my life had fast become. I stayed there for several minutes, wallowing in the quiet misery, before forcing myself to move. Lying around wouldn’t change anything. And I wanted to see Roman before dinner. I needed to be with him. I pushed myself up and headed toward the ensuite bathroom. When I opened the door, I wasn’t even surprised anymore. The bathroom was just as excessive as the bedroom. Marble everywhere. Gold fixtures. A bathtub large enough to sleep in. It felt less like a bathroom and more like a private spa built by someone desperate to prove a point. Someone who wanted future generations to remember exactly how powerful he’d been. At least there were toiletries. I made a mental note to ask for my usual skincare products tomorrow. Tonight, this would have to do. I refused to meet Roman’s family smelling like stress and fear. I turned on the shower, stepping under the hot spray with a shaky sigh. The water soothed my aching muscles instantly, dragging a low moan from my throat before I could stop it. My shoulders loosened. My spine relaxed. The shampoo smelled fruity as I washed my hair thoroughly. I scrubbed myself clean. Over and over. As if I could wash away the anxiety clinging to my skin. The fear. The weight of everything that had gone wrong. By the time I turned off the water, my skin was flushed and tender, my fingers wrinkled.Only then—only after I’d wrapped a towel around my body and another around my hair—did reality slap me across the face. I had nothing to wear. I stood frozen in the bathroom, staring at my reflection like it might offer a solution. I arrived with only my purse. No overnight bag. No clothes. No underwear. “Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered, pacing back into the bedroom. “What do I do now?” My voice sounded small in the cavernous space. An idea struck me and I grabbed my phone, my fingers already moving to call Reese—then stopped. I didn’t have his number. “Fuck.” I dug into my purse and pulled out Roman’s phone, my heart twisting painfully as I held it. Scrolling through his contacts felt invasive, but I didn’t have a choice now. As uncomfortable as this request would be, Reese was the safest option. I finally found his name and pressed dial. He picked up almost immediately. But he didn’t speak. Of course he didn’t. This was Roman’s phone. Of course it was strange that a comatose man was calling him at this time of the night. “Hey, Reese. It’s me. Savannah,” I said softly. “Oh.” His breath rushed out. “Nearly lost my fucking mind thinking this was Roman. Where are you? I just got home.” Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled. “Thank God,” I whispered. “Um… I don’t even know where I am.” “What wing?” “Wing?” I repeated helplessly. “I—I don’t know. But I’m in the bedroom right next to Roman.” He sighed. “Okay. Don’t move. I’ll find you.” “I just took a shower and I don’t have clothes,” I blurted out before he could hang up. “I didn’t bring anything. Can you help me?” A pause. Then, calmly, “Okay. I’m coming.” The line went dead. I sank onto the bed, my cheeks burning. Embarrassed. Grateful. Exposed in more ways than one. Barely a minute has passed since the call ended but I was still pacing back and forth. I adjusted my towel for the hundredth time just before a knock sounded at the door. It was soft and hesitant. Could that be Reese? How did he get here so fast? Well, he lives here. So he should know his way around. Nevertheless, relief surged through me. “Thank God,” I breathed, hurrying to the door and yanking it open. “You came so fast, I didn’t know what to—” I stopped. It wasn’t Reese. The man standing there was younger. Quite younger than Reese. Instead of Reese’s infamous blond hair, I was staring at a darker one, much like Roman's. His hair was jet black, his eyes just as dark as his hair, wide with shock. I knew on the spot that this boy must be one of Roman’s siblings. He wore a bright blue T-shirt, white pants, and a camera hung from his neck like an accessory. Slowly, his gaze swept over me. Once. Then again. And suddenly my brain caught up. I was in a towel. Heat slammed into my face as I gasped and darted behind the door, peeking out just enough to see him spin around instantly. “I’m so sorry—God, I’m so sorry, ma'am,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to stare. I swear.” A servant walked past behind him without slowing, eyes downcast, pretending we didn’t exist. Again, weird. “Who are you?” I demanded. “I’m not a creep, I swear,” he said quickly. “I just wanted to—” “Which one are you?!” I snapped. He swallowed. “I’m Ramsey. Roman’s brother. Half-brother.” My stomach dropped. Oh. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.