Chapter 86 I Am A Girl, Stupid! I stumbled back, almost tripping over my own feet. My voice rose before I could stop it. “Does Roman know? Did he authorise this?” Reese dragged a hand through his hair, yanking at the strands like he was seconds away from losing his mind. His eyes flashed with irritation, his voice sharp and mocking. “Jesus Christ, Savannah. Roman this, Roman that. What are you both? Joined at the hip?” The nerve of him. My pulse thudded painfully as I snapped back. “You’re in his house. As an unwanted guest. The least you could do is give him that respect. Let him know you’re entertaining a guest in his home while he's out.” He scoffed, leaning back against the counter with that insufferable smirk that I was beginning to think is a classic Blackwood thing. “He’s not a guest. He’s Roman’s father. And besides, he’s not coming to see Roman.” His gaze flicked over me with deliberate weight. “He’s coming to see you, pretty girl.” The words hit harder than I expected, knocking the very air from my lungs. My throat tightened, my earlier boldness evaporating like smoke. “Why? Why is he coming to see me? He doesn’t even know who I am.” My voice pitched higher, betraying the panic clawing at my chest. Reese tilted his head, his tone low and unnervingly calm. “That’s what you think. Our father probably knows you more than you know yourself.” A chill rolled down my spine. I didn’t like the way he said it. Like his father wasn’t just a man, but a monster cloaked in human skin. Just who the hell was he? A mob boss? The head of some terrifying syndicate? A kingpin? A dragon? The president? My mind clawed for explanations, each more absurd than the last, because the truth was too overwhelming to face. And then—like the universe itself was having a swell time tormenting me—Reese’s phone rang. The sharp tone split the air, making me flinch. He slipped it from his pocket and smirked at me. “Oh. Speak of the devil.” He answered with smooth obedience, his previous playfulness disappearing instantly. “Yes, Father? Yes, sir.” That was it. Two short sentences, then silence. The call ended, but the weight of it lingered in my chest.My survival instincts roared to life. I spun, desperate to run upstairs, to grab my phone and call Roman before things spiraled further out of control. But before I could take more than two steps, Reese’s hand shot out, his fingers coiling around my wrist like literal steel bands. “As much as I have a soft spot for you,” he drawled lazily, pulling me back, “I can’t let you out of my sight. Not yet, sweet pea.” His grip tightened, biting into my skin. I gasped, trying to jerk free. “Let go, Reese!” “Not yet.” His voice was infuriatingly casual, almost bored. “Not until the big man gets here. And he’s pretty close.” He gave my wrist a little shake, like a parent scolding a child. “Come on. Have some pancakes with me while we wait, please?” “I don’t want to!” My voice cracked with anger. “You can shove them down your throat.” “Stop struggling.” His reprimand came sharp, like a teacher correcting a brat. “You’ll hurt yourself. I’ve been told I have a rather strong grip. Wouldn’t want to hurt you unintentionally.” “Unintentionally?” I glared, twisting, yanking, but his hold didn’t budge. “You’re insane. And you’re going to be very sorry when Roman finds out about this, I swear.” Just then, the shriek of sirens cut through the morning air. The sound barreled into the house, almost rattling the windows. My heart plummeted, thudding painfully against my ribs. Was that him? Reese’s lips curved into a slow grin. “We’ll see, sister-in-law.” He tugged me toward the front door with frightening ease. “Come on.” The sound of multiple footsteps thundered outside, synchronized and heavy, like an army descending. My stomach turned ice-cold. Suddenly I wanted to run. I didn't want to meet him. What if he knows this is a sham? What if he sees right through me? What if he's one of those men who threaten the girl to stay away from their son? What if he has a gun? Instant fear. “No.” I clawed at the counter as he dragged me, my nails scraping against the polished surface. “Leave me alone! I don’t want to.” Reese stopped, muttering under his breath. His jaw clenched, his fingers pinching the space between his eyebrows as if the situation annoyed him more than anything. Then, louder… “For fuck’s sake. Stop being such a girl.”Rage flared even through my fear. “I am a girl, stupid!” That was the moment his patience snapped. In a blur, he spun me around, pressing my front against the wall. My wrists were yanked behind my back, pinned together like I was some criminal. The humiliation burned hotter than the pain. I thrashed, panic clawing up my throat, tears threatening to spill. “What are you doing, Reese? Let me go! Do you know what you're doing?” His voice cracked unexpectedly with sorrow, even as his grip stayed merciless. “I’m so sorry, Sister-in-law. But I must not let you leave. I hope you forgive me for this.” I spat the words out like poison. “Well, you can kiss that forgiveness goodbye! You’re not getting it from me, asshole! I thought you were decent.” Before he could respond, the front door burst open with a thunderous crack. I froze completely. A statue against the wall. All I could see from my pressed-against-the-wall vantage point were gleaming black shoes and sharply pressed trousers and suits. They marched inside in rigid formation, splitting to line both sides of the foyer. Their presence swallowed the space, their silence heavier than any words they could have spoken. My breath came shallow, ragged. I stopped struggling, my fear eclipsed by something else. Curiosity. “Finally,” Reese muttered behind me. “It was about fucking time.” The line of suited men stood like statues, faces unreadable, posture very perfect. Then came the sound. Tap. Tap. Tap. A walking stick against marble, steady as a metronome. Each strike of wood against stone synced with the pounding of my heart, drowning out every other sound until that was all there was. I swallowed hard. My throat was bone dry. The men in suits turned in unison toward the doorway. Silence reigned, heavy and expectant, as a man stepped inside, accompanied by a young woman who looked like she’d walked straight off the glossy page of a magazine. The air shifted, instantly disappearing. Charged with their arrival. Their aura sucking it right from the room with an invisible straw. The man carried himself like he owned not just this house, but the entire world. Superiority radiated off him, commanding obedience without as much as a word. His eyes—green, sharp, and so achingly familiar—found mine instantly. Roman’s eyes. This must be his father. He looked the part perfectly. Silver mixing with his black hair and more prominent by the sides, sharp cheekbones, an aura of absolute authority. Yet there was something else—something in the lines of his face that gnawed at me with intense recognition. Had I seen him before? Perhaps somewhere I shouldn’t have? But I’d never been good with faces. I tended to mix them up. The woman beside him was perfectly sculpted. Her hair curled into a flawless blowout, every step graceful, like the floor itself was lucky to be touched by her red heels. Standing next to her, I felt small. Underdressed. Forgettable. The man’s stare pinned me in place, stripping me bare. Seconds dragged into eternities. Then, slowly, his gaze shifted, landing on Reese who was behind me. “Father,” Reese said, his voice finally carrying a flicker of respect. That was all the confirmation I needed. This was him. Roman's daddy. But still, the nagging thought persisted. Why did I feel like I knew this man from somewhere? His eyes narrowed at Reese, his lips curling ever so slightly, but he said nothing at first. Instead, his gaze returned to me, tilting his head in a way that was both curious and unnerving. Then his eyes dropped lower. To my hands. Only then did I register how compromising this looked: Reese’s grip still on my wrists, my body pressed against his front. Heat flamed across my face, but before I could defend myself, the man finally spoke. His voice was smooth, deep, and laced with authority. “I ordered you to make sure your brother’s wife stays put, Zachary. Not bed her. Again.” The words detonated in the room like a bomb. My heart stopped. Reese—Zachary—stiffened behind me.And all I could think was—again?