Chapter 78 Another Name Savannah I jerk away so fast it’s as if Roman’s words have burned me, my hand tangling in my hair, tugging at it like the pain might ground me. “That’s not true!” My voice comes out too shrill, too fake. I try again, but softer, rehearsed, the way I’ve defended Chloe my whole life. “Chloe’s a yoga instructor. A ballet teacher. She gets flown to LA constantly because of the clients she trains, the gigs she books. Mom and Dad are proud of her because she chose a harder path, a less popular field, and still made a name for herself in it. She’s an upright individual. She’s… she’s a role model to many people.” The words tumble like bricks from my mouth, and I hear myself and cringe. It sounds practiced and memorized. Roman doesn’t seem fazed by my rehearsed speech. He just looks at me, that steady, heavy gaze that says he can see right through me. Like he knows I’m unraveling in real time. “Savannah,” he says, low and even, like a verdict, “you know I’m telling the truth.” My stomach turns. “Don’t do that.”“I didn’t know her as Chloe back then.” His jaw shifts as though the words tasted bitter. “She went by another name. Blondie.” The name slams into me like a car crash. My lungs seize. Blondie. The name Roman always used to shut her up with. The whispers I tried not to piece together. The silence between us grows louder and louder, until it's enough to scream. My face twists, like I don’t know which mask to wear. Shock, disgust, grief? They all clash at once, and my chest jerks in shallow gasps, air clawing at my throat like it doesn’t want me to have it. “You’re telling me…” My voice splinters violently. “…that my sister—my sister, Chloe—sold herself to you?” “What? No. She wasn’t mine, Savannah.” Roman’s words come quick, defensive. “It wasn’t like that. It was business. Formal. Transactional. Nothing compared to—” “Stop.” The word lashes out of me like a whip. My eyes blaze, hot with tears that refuse to fall. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare compare me to that. Don’t you dare put me in the same breath as what you did with her.” “Sav—”“No!” I slice the air between us with my palm, trembling but still trying to stand my ground. “You hired women like they were jewelry, and my sister was one of them. And now you expect me to just stand here and—what? Swallow it down? Pretend it doesn’t shatter me into pieces that you had such a level of intimacy with my sister?” His voice cracks sharp in return. “I never slept with her. Whatever happened, happened a long time ago.” The words hit me sideways. I blink, stunned. “I only hired her for one event,” he says, the tone clipped, sharp with shame. “Months later, just before you told me about her wedding, I ran into her again. She had nowhere to stay so I let her crash in my suite. Nothing happened. Not then. Not after. I haven't set my eyes on her till I saw her again here.” He explains. “What happened before was a mistake, Sav. A mistake I would erase if I could.” My laugh claws its way out, bitter and jagged. “Oh, I should clap then? Throw you a goddamn parade because you only let her get on her knees for you the first time?” My words cut like knives, sharper than any slap. I want them to wound. To leave a mark the way his confession has carved one into me.Roman pauses, his lips parting like I’ve struck him harder than I meant to. But instead of anger, something raw leaks into his voice. “Savannah…” His tone breaks—quiet, pleading, fragile. “It meant nothing. She meant nothing. You’re the only one who—” “Don’t.” My voice breaks in two, splintering with the tears I can’t hold back anymore. They spill, hot and furious, sliding down my cheeks as though they’ve been waiting years for this moment to betray me. “Don’t you dare say I’m the only one. I can’t even breathe right now, Roman. I can’t…” My body curls forward as I clutch my stomach like I can hold myself together with sheer force. But the night air cuts through me, cold and merciless, leaving me feeling like even the universe has turned against me. Roman steps forward, instinct pulling him closer, but I stagger back, my hand raised like a wall. “Don’t touch me,” I whisper, broken and desperate. His eyes widen, confusion slamming through his expression. “What?” “Please, Roman.” My voice is a plea and a warning wrapped in one. “Just… don’t. Not right now.” Before the silence can consume us, a mocking whistle slices through the air. “Oh shit. Lovers’ quarrel?” Reese’s voice oozes mischief, leaning against the car with an obnoxious smirk. “Damn, Rome. What did you do this time?” Heat floods my cheeks, humiliation crashing over my heartbreak. I fold my arms across my chest, turning away, not trusting my voice. “Will you shut up and just drive?” Roman snaps, venom coating his words. Reese chuckles, unfazed, like Roman’s fury is a private joke. “Whatever you say, brother.” I fish out the keys, thrusting them into Reese’s palm with trembling fingers. Before I can even take a single step toward the passenger side, strong arms wrap around my waist. “Roman!” I shriek as my feet leave the ground. His shoulder slams into my stomach, hauling me up like I weigh nothing. “Put me down immediately!” “No.” His voice is maddeningly casual, like we’re discussing dinner instead of my dignity. His arm bands around my thighs, his stride steady as he carries me toward his car. “Put me down! Now!” My fists pound against his back, my legs kicking wild. I land a hard kick against his chest, but instead of loosening his grip, he only tightens it. His body absorbs every strike like I’m a tantruming child.“Roman!” I scream again, thrashing. “You better let me down before I do some permanent damage!” His only answer is the flat, sharp smack of his palm against my ass. The sound cracks through the air, hot shame flooding my body so fast I choke on it. I freeze, stiff as stone, a fresh wave of tears burning my eyes. Anger, humiliation, and something filthy coil low in my stomach, a storm I don’t dare name. His voice comes low, filtering into my ear, a dark rumble that rattles through me. “Kick me again, Savannah, and I’ll do it harder.” The warning, the dominance, the steel in his tone—it all leaves me breathless, trembling. Torn between hating him and being unable to fight the shiver racing down my spine. I want to claw him apart. I want to melt into him. I want to forget everything he’s just told me, and I want to make him suffer for it. And worst of all… I can’t tell which urge will win.