Chapter 248 All For A Man Savannah Was I surprised? Truly—genuinely—was I shocked that Penelope Valentine, a woman who had never bothered to hide her distaste for me, would stoop so low as to spread malicious rumors about me behind my back? No. Absolutely fucking not. Penelope hated me because Roman loved me. And I wasn’t naïve or arrogant enough to pretend otherwise. I had seen it in the way she acted in his office that day. The way she made sure to insert herself in his life. The way she rubbed it in my face that she knew him and his family better than I did. So no—her cruelty didn’t shock me. What did surprise me was the effort. That she had found the time, between her polished courtroom appearances and her meticulously curated career as a lawyer, to actively destroy my reputation. That she had made it her personal mission to ensure Roman’s siblings saw me as a villain before ever speaking to me. That took dedication. Obsession. And something deeply, disturbingly wrong.How broken did you have to be to take it upon yourself to ruin someone simply because the man you wanted didn’t want you back? All for a man. And not just any man—but one who had never loved her. Never chosen her. Never looked at her the way he looked at me. The thought made bile rise in my throat. Penelope behaved as though Roman belonged to her—as though he were property she had misplaced rather than a man with his own heart, his own will. And the most grotesque part of it all was that she wasn’t even his lover. She was just his lawyer. His friend. Thinking about it made my stomach churn. But beneath the disgust, something else stirred—something colder and sharper. And that was awareness. Penelope wasn’t just bitter. She was dangerous. And as my hand instinctively drifted toward my stomach, terror rooted itself deep inside me. If she was capable of poisoning an entire family against me with lies, then there was no telling how far she would go.Not when it came to me. Not when it came to my baby. I drew in a shaky breath and forced my feet to move as Reese held open the door to Roman’s room. The nurse present there glanced up, offered a gentle smile filled with pity, and quietly excused herself, granting us privacy. The door clicked shut behind her. For a brief, fragile moment, hope bloomed in my chest. Maybe—just maybe—I’d walk in and find Roman sitting up in bed. Maybe he’d be arguing with the nurse, cursing the machines, flashing that smile that always made my knees weak. I would’ve taken anything. Talking. Laughing. Shouting. Anything but this. But life wasn’t a movie. Wishes didn’t materialize just because your heart was breaking badly enough. Roman was still there. Still unmoving. Still suspended in that cruel space between life and death.The machines hummed and beeped softly around him, their sounds weaving together into a rhythm I hated but had already memorized. He was hooked up to more tubes than I wanted to count, wires tracing over his chest like some grotesque form of art. He had been shot twice. And yet, somehow, he was still alive. Still fighting. He’d survived a bullet to the chest—so I clung to that fact like a lifeline. As long as he was breathing, there was hope. As long as there was hope, I would endure anything. Even this. Even the crushing guilt that sat on my chest like a weight I could never lift. My feet felt heavy as I moved closer, each step deliberate, as though I were afraid the floor might give way beneath me if I rushed. God. He looked so beautiful laying there. That was the only word for it. Beautiful. Roman looked as though he were sleeping. He looked peaceful, almost serene. His lashes cast faint shadows against his cheeks, his lips parted slightly beneath the oxygen mask. If not for the steady beeping of the monitors, you could almost believe he’d wake up any second. Reese had gone completely silent behind me. He stood at the foot of the bed, arms stiff at his sides, eyes locked onto his brother as though looking away might shatter him. I reached Roman’s bedside and lifted my trembling hand, brushing my fingers over his cheek. “Hi, my love,” I whispered. “I miss you so much.” His skin was smooth beneath my touch, just as it always had been, but colder than it should’ve been. The chill seeped into my bones, and I swallowed hard against the sob threatening to escape. “How did this even happen?” Reese asked suddenly. His voice was tight and strained like he was holding himself together by sheer force of will. Tears blurred my vision. “I didn’t mean to,” I said, my voice breaking. “It was Julius’s fault. He wanted to shoot my mom. I didn’t know Roman was in the way.” I shook my head, breath hitching. “We were both holding the gun. Julius and I.” Reese’s jaw clenched, his face hardening into something dangerous. “Who fired the gun?” he asked. His eyes never left Roman. I opened my mouth—then closed it. “I… I don’t know,” I admitted helplessly. “Everything happened so fast. We were both struggling. My finger was on the trigger, but—you know I’d never hurt Roman. Not intentionally.” “I know,” Reese said immediately. The words loosened something inside me. I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, relief washing through me. I didn’t think I could survive Reese hating me on top of everything else. I reached for Roman’s hand, lifting it gently and pressing it against my cheek. His fingers were limp in mine, unresponsive. “I’m so sorry,” I sobbed. “I wish I could go back. I never would’ve pressured you. I never would’ve let you go there. I never would’ve dropped the gun. I never would’ve fought Julius.” My shoulders shook violently. “I’m really sorry, Roman,” I cried. “I love you. I love you so much.” The words poured out of me—raw, unfiltered, desperate. I didn’t care that Reese was there. I didn’t care how I looked. Shame had no place here. All that existed was the man lying before me and the unbearable knowledge that I had played a role in putting him there. “I’m sorry,” I whispered again and again. “Please forgive me. I hope you will forgive me.”I don’t know how long I cried. Time blurred, stretching and folding in on itself until eventually my sobs slowed, exhaustion dulling the sharpest edges of my pain. When I finally lifted my head, Reese was still standing there. His eyes were red-rimmed now. But they still never left Roman. I leaned down slowly and pressed my lips to Roman’s forehead. Then his cheek. His nose. His closed eyes. My hands trembled as I gently pulled the oxygen mask down just enough to kiss his lips. “I’m so sorry, my love,” I whispered against his mouth. “I love you so much. I'll always love you.” Tears spilled freely, dampening his lips as I kissed him again and again and again and again, desperate to imprint myself onto him. To remind him, wherever he was, that I was still here. Carefully, I replaced the oxygen mask and laid his hand back on the bed, lingering for a moment before straightening. “Savannah,” Reese said quietly. “Can you give me a minute… alone with my brother?” I nodded, wiping my tears. “Of course.” I squeezed Roman’s hand one last time before turning toward the door. But the final image burned itself into my mind. Reese had dropped to his knees beside the bed. His shoulders shook violently, his head bowed low, and even without hearing a sound—I knew. He was crying. And I closed the door softly behind me, carrying the weight of both brothers’ pain with me into the hallway. This was all my fault.