Chapter 81 You're Sleeping With Me Tonight The hum of Roman’s car filled the silence between us as the city rolled by. Familiar places drifted past the window. Restaurants where he had once taken me out to during lunch breaks, bookstores I had shamelessly raided on his dime. Each sight tugged at me, reminders of moments we had shared, moments I had convinced myself meant more than they probably did. My fingers itched against my lap, restless, until they found the engagement ring on my finger. That damned ring. I twisted it absentmindedly, the cool band slipping easily around the joint of my knuckle. My chest tightened with each spin. Sooner or later, I’d have to give it back to him. Maybe even tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never, if I could avoid the inevitable. But the thought of handing it over felt like I’d be surrendering a piece of myself. Still, I couldn’t risk insulting him. Or worse, insulting his mother, if it had once belonged to her. “You can stop me right there,” I murmured, pointing ahead to the faint glow of my neighbour's apartment windows. My throat ached as I slipped the ring from my finger and cupped it in my palm. It suddenly looked so small, but felt so heavy.Roman’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. “Not tonight.” His voice was final. He didn’t even glance at me. “You’re sleeping with me tonight. I’ll drive you back in the morning if you want me to.” Heat rushed through me in a wave so sudden it startled me. That single order sent sparks crawling across my skin. I forced myself to swallow. “I… I don’t understand.” His lips curled in a humorless smirk. “Reese thinks we’re truly engaged. So put the ring back on. That fucker knows me too well to believe I’d let my fiancée spend the night apart from me. If he sees me dropping you off, he’ll start sniffing around.” I slipped the ring back on with trembling fingers, wondering how in God’s name he knew I’d taken it off when his eyes had never left the road. Roman always noticed too much. Always. The car eased down my street before veering into the affluent neighborhood that cradled Roman’s house. The air seemed to change here. It was quieter, heavier, and suffocating. I sat straighter, heart ticking louder. “He’s already bragged to my father and anyone else who’ll listen that he’s met my bride.” Roman’s tone hardened as he swerved past a corner. “Wouldn’t put it past my father to have eyes on you.” A chill crept up my spine. Eyes on me? His father? Why? Why would his family care? “Umm…” My grip on my dress wrinkled the fabric. “Roman, should I be scared? Is your father… a part of the mafia or something?” He actually chuckled, deep and dismissive. “He isn’t. Would be nice if he was though.” The tension in my chest didn’t ease. If anything, the casual way he said it made it worse. Just who the hell is his father? The tires crunched over the cobbled stones of his courtyard, pulling me back to the present. I twisted in my seat just in time to see headlights flare behind us. Reese pulled in close, sliding to a stop with an ease that screamed familiarity. Roman killed the engine, stepped out, and came around to open my door. He offered his hand, and I took it, even though the gesture now felt more like a silent command than a courtesy. His touch was warm, grounding, and very possessive. Reese strolled over, tossing keys in the air like he owned the place. “Surprised you still live here,” he said, grin cocky as ever. “Thought you’d be holed up in that fancy penthouse, working yourself to death.” Roman caught the keys with one hand, his jaw tight. “I live where I want to. You’ve done your part. Now get out.” The venom in his tone made my stomach knot.I nudged his side, whispering, “Roman, he’s your brother. Be a little nicer, will you?” His answer was silence, but his hand slid around my waist, grip tightening, pulling me closer. It felt less like affection and more like staking a claim. Reese raised his brows, mock-wounded. “You’re just going to kick me out after I helped you? That’s cruel, brother.” His voice carried an edge of amusement, like none of this mattered to him. Like he was watching us both far too closely. “Reese. Leave.” Roman’s growl was low, warning. “Your presence here means trouble. Go.” Reese leaned lazily against my car. “Trouble follows you more than it follows me.” His smirk deepened. “Besides, your fiancée looks like she’s about to beg for me.” Before Roman could lunge, I placed a hand on his chest. “Roman, it’s late. It’s dangerous. He probably left his car behind. How do you expect him to get home?” I turned my pleading eyes up at him. “Please.” “Bless you, sister-in-law,” Reese cut in, crossing himself theatrically. “Savannah,” Roman hissed, voice tight. “You don’t understand—”“Roman.” I pressed closer, my hand fisting lightly in his shirt. “Please. For my sake?” His jaw clenched, shoulders rigid. Then came the exhale, long and frustrated. “Fine. One wrong move, and he’s out. I don’t care if it’s three a.m.—I’ll call him a fucking Uber if I have to.” Relief loosened my chest. I smiled softly. “Thank you.” Roman grabbed our bags from the trunk. Reese watched like a hawk, eyes sharp in contrast to his earlier playfulness. I felt it then—the unease, the quiet calculation in him. He wasn’t just mischievous, or cunning. He was dangerous in his own way. Roman led us inside. He dropped a bag at the door of a guest room, the tone of his voice final. “You’ll stay here. Be gone by morning.” I opened my mouth, ready to scold him for his coldness, but I stopped. Something in his expression warned me against interfering. There were reasons he treated Reese this way. Reasons I didn’t yet know. “Sure thing, bro.” Reese’s smirk widened, deliberate provocation. “Thanks for the hospitality. Father will be pleased.” Roman looked ready to snap, but I tightened my grip on his arm again. Reese slipped inside the guest room with a wink in my direction before slamming the door shut. “That little shit,” Roman muttered darkly as we moved toward his bedroom. “He always brings trouble. I knew letting him stay here was a mistake.” “Roman, he’s your brother,” I whispered, still hoping to temper his rage. His eyes cut to me, lips parting as if to speak, then closing again. He turned away, shoulders stiff. “He should count himself lucky you’re here.” He tossed his tie on a chair as he strode toward the closet. I stood awkwardly by the vanity, feeling like an intruder in a room I had visited countless times before but no longer recognized. Tonight it was different. Tonight I wasn’t just Roman’s nosy best friend—I was his fiancée in the eyes of everyone else, and my pulse throbbed with nerves at what that meant. It felt like being in high school again, sneaking into my crush’s room after curfew. “Umm, Roman…” My voice wavered as I looked at the massive bed, then at the mirrored ceiling above it. My cheeks warmed. “Where will I sleep?” He reappeared, shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. My breath caught at the sight of his body—smooth, strong, sculpted, no tattoos marking his skin. He hated them, called them an unhealthy waste of canvas.“You’ll sleep with me on my bed,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Reese can’t find you in another room.” I nodded, half-expecting it, half-unprepared. “Okay.” I moved slowly toward the bed, smoothing my hand over the comforter before lifting it to inspect. “No dust?” Roman peeled off his shirt and tossed it aside. “Had it cleaned this morning. Called the agency.” He shoved down his pants next, his body unbothered by my wide-eyed stare. I nodded weakly. “Quick thinking.” Then, without hesitation, he stripped the rest of the way, bare and unapologetic, and headed toward the bathroom. He paused at the doorway, turning to look at me, a smirk curving his lips. “I’m going to take a shower. Wanna join me, my love?” My breath snagged. The teasing in his eyes, the challenge in his smile. It was all too much. My answer came in the smallest of nods, helpless and inevitable. The next moment, my dress was a puddle on the floor, and Roman’s hand was pulling me into the bathroom…