Chapter 252 Remember What? Savannah “Why did you do that?” Riley’s voice barely reached me. It slipped between the clink of cutlery and the murmur of conversation like a secret never meant to be heard by more than one person. Around us, dinner continued normally. Plates were lifted. Forks scraped porcelain. River laughed—soft, polite, rehearsed. Wine glasses tilted. Servants moved in silent, efficient patterns, refilling water, adjusting napkins, smoothing wrinkles that didn’t exist. Then they were gone. Just like ghosts. It was as if the moment from earlier had never even happened. As if I hadn’t just been accused—indirectly, of course, because Reginald seemed to never dirty his hands with direct blows—of infidelity. Of deception. Of trapping his son with a pregnancy that didn’t belong to him. Nor did he even want. And even though I was furious at Reginald, a part of me felt guilty. In honesty, I did force the child on Roman. He had one rule and I broke it. He didn't want children. Could it be possible that deep down, Roman still wasn't entirely comfortable with this? The baby? Being a father? Was he only going along with this and pretending because he knew it'd make me happy? Was he just agreeing to everything because he didn't want to lose me nor see me cry? God, what have I done? I looked around the room. Everyone was eating. Everyone except me. I sat rigid in my chair, spine straight, shoulders tense, hands folded tightly in my lap as if that alone could keep me from shaking. My plate sat untouched before me, steam long gone, the food cooling into something unappetizing and foreign. I wouldn’t eat here. Not a single bite. Not after that. I wouldn't even be surprised if Reginald poisoned my meal. Anger burned hot and sharp in my chest, but beneath it was something worse—something humiliating and raw. I felt flayed open. Examined. Reduced to a problem that needed solving.I had been discussed like an object. Like a liability. That arrogant, narcissistic, pompous old bully. Who the hell did Reginald Blackwood think he was? “Do what?” I asked Riley quietly, turning my head just enough to acknowledge her without drawing attention. I knew exactly what she meant. The paternity test. “Refuse to take it,” she said, her voice careful, controlled. Too controlled for someone her age. I let out a slow breath and looked at her fully now. Riley’s face was composed, but her eyes were sharp and watchful in a way that didn’t belong to a sixteen-year-old girl. She had learned, somehow, how to survive in this house. “Your father implied I was cheating on Roman,” I said softly. “He all but called me a liar. A thief. A gold digger who basically slept her way into his family.” Riley’s gaze flicked instinctively to the right, toward the head of the table. Toward Reginald. He sat exactly as I guessed he always did. Perfect posture. Calm expression. Utter control. He looked like a man enjoying a perfectly ordinary dinner, not someone who had just detonated a bomb and watched everyone scramble to avoid the fallout.“I know what it sounded like,” Riley whispered. “And I know how it felt. But Savannah… I also know what I believe.” She paused, as if weighing whether to continue. “I believe that baby is my brother’s.” My chest tightened. “Sir knows it too,” she went on. “He just doesn’t care. He wants to use this.” I swallowed hard. “But do you really want to walk away?” she asked quietly. “Leave Roman here? Alone? Unconscious? With him?” The words landed like a blade straight into my heart. Images flashed unbidden through my mind. Roman pale and unmoving, machines humming softly around him, his body utterly defenseless. Reginald standing at his bedside, cold eyes calculating, already planning what to do next. I said nothing. “Because once you leave,” Riley continued, her voice dropping further, “you should understand something very clearly.” She leaned closer. “You’ll lose my brother forever. Haven't you heard of amnesia after waking up from a coma? Or serious brain damage? Sir would probably rather have a brain dead son than a healthy one who'd pose a threat. He can make that happen.” My breath hitched. “And not just that,” she added, her tone steady but grim. “He’ll come after your baby. And in case you haven’t noticed… babies don’t make it out in this place.” I stared at her. Shock flooded me. Not only at what she was saying, but at how easily she said it. How matter-of-fact she sounded. As though this were common knowledge. As though she’d grown up surrounded by disappearances and strange happenings and learned never to question them. She was sixteen. Sixteen, and she knew exactly how dangerous this house was. And how dangerous her father was. “Don’t look so shocked,” Riley murmured, reading my expression with unsettling accuracy. “He’s my father. I live here. I see everything.” She glanced around the table, making sure no one was paying attention before continuing. “A few days before you arrived,” she said, “before Roman was even shot. I saw the doctor on the grounds. The one with the beard.” My heart skipped violently.“I saw him with Sir,” she went on. “I was coming back from my harp lesson. They were talking. Quietly. Like they didn’t want to be overheard.” My fingers curled into my pants. “Then two days later,” Riley said, “Sir announced he had to go to Pennsylvania for something important.” Her lips pressed together. “The next day, Roman was shot.” The room seemed to tilt. My hand flew to my mouth, trapping a gasp before it could escape. My mind raced, fitting pieces together I hadn’t wanted to see. The timing. The doctor. Reginald’s absence. “And now,” Riley whispered urgently, “he wants you to take a test. Because he knows you won’t. Because you know the baby is truly Roman’s. He’s counting on your refusal.” Her eyes burned into mine. “He’s playing a game,” she said. “And the prize is getting you out of my brother’s life.” My pulse thundered in my ears. “I don’t know why he wants you gone,” she continued, voice shaking now just slightly, “but I know it’s nothing good. And the doctor—” she hesitated. “I don’t trust him either. He’s shady and he's also—”“Riley.” Reginald’s voice cut through the air. It was quiet, measured, almost gentle. But it stopped her cold. She jerked upright as if struck by lightning. “Yes, sir?” Reginald dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin, unhurried, his movements precise. Then he placed it neatly on the table. “Is that a private discussion,” he asked calmly, “or are the rest of us invited to participate?” My stomach dropped. “Oh—no, sir,” Riley said quickly. “Savannah and I were just talking about the manor.” Reginald didn’t look at her. “What about it?” “How big it is,” Riley said smoothly. Too smoothly. “How beautiful. I was… trying to convince her to stay. I already like her very much, sir. I’d be sad to see her go.” For a long moment, Reginald said nothing. Then he lifted his gaze. The weight of it pinned Riley in place. “Is that so?” “Yes, sir.” “And is it working?” he asked, lifting his glass.Riley hesitated. “I… wouldn’t say, sir. That’s up to Savannah.” To my surprise, Reginald chuckled—a soft, almost amused sound. “How old are you, Riley?” I blinked. What did that have to do with anything? Riley looked just as confused, but answered. “Sixteen, sir.” “I hope you remember that,” he said lightly. Remember what? “Yes, sir,” Riley replied, then glanced at me. “But Savannah does have something she’d like to say.” Reginald’s gaze shifted at last. “Does she?” “Yes,” Riley said firmly. My heart pounded as I pushed back my chair and stood. The scrape of wood against marble echoed too loudly in my ears. “I do.” Reginald clasped his hands together, elbows resting on the table, an amused glint in his eyes. “Then let us hear it.” “I’ll take the test,” I said clearly, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “I will not leave this place without Roman. So if it’s a test you want, you’ll have it.” A ripple of tension spread across the table. “But what you will never have,” I continued, meeting his gaze at last, “is what you truly want. You will never break Roman and me apart.” I waited for the crack. For the anger. For the mask to fall. But it didn’t. Reginald didn’t even look at me. His eyes were fixed on Riley. And in that moment, a cold understanding settled deep in my bones. I hadn’t just agreed to a test. I had stepped fully into his game. And he had already decided how it would end.