Who Matters More?

Who Matters More?
Chapter 288: Who Matters More? 
Roman 

The first thing I noticed after asking my question was the silence. It was not the ordinary kind—not hesitation, not confusion. This was deliberate silence. The kind of silence people use when they are standing on the edge of a truth they refuse to speak aloud.

Savannah wouldn’t meet my eyes. Reese wouldn’t look at her. And that alone told me everything I needed to know.

They weren’t ready to tell me the truth. Or worse—they weren’t willing.

Something ugly tightened in my chest, spreading heat through my veins. Savannah was mine. Not in the shallow, possessive sense people mocked or misunderstood. She was my partner. My best friend. My future. The woman who knew every crack in me and still chose to stay with me.

If there were secrets to be kept, they should have been shared with me first—not hidden from me entirely.

The thought burned me red hot.  

“Will someone in here,” I said slowly, voice dangerously calm, “be kind enough to explain what exactly you two are discussing in private in the middle of the night… or do I need to forget I have you as a brother and start settling this with my fists?”

River slipped into the room behind me and quietly shut the door. Savannah looked up at me, horror flashing across her face. “Roman, this isn't the time nor place to start a fight.”

“You better start talking, Savannah.” I didn’t look at her when I said it. If I did, I might soften. And I didn’t want to soften right now.

Reese stepped forward, palms raised in a calming gesture. “Roman—”

“Now.”

Savannah inhaled sharply. “I don’t want you to—”

“She wants you to stay out of the Dahlia matter,” Reese said, cutting her off. His voice was steady, but there was tension threaded through every syllable. “All of it. Including the tapes.”

For a moment, the words didn’t make sense. They floated in the air between us, shapeless, unreal. Almost like my ear had picked up the wrong signal. 

Then they settled.

And something inside me stilled completely. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “What did you just say?”

I turned to Savannah.

Her posture had changed. The fear was still there, but something else had taken its place—resolve. Hard, immovable resolve.

“Is that true?” I asked.

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

The single word landed like a blow. “Are you out of your mind?” The calm shattered. “What kind of request is that? And why,” I demanded, “are you discussing this with Reese instead of me? I’m your fiancé, Savannah. If there is anything you want to say, it should be said to me. Not to him.” 

Reese stepped forward again, irritation finally surfacing. “Maybe she came to me because she’s afraid you’ll go completely feral if she tells you herself. She clearly doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore—”

“Reese!” Savannah cried.

I turned on him. “Stay out of this. This doesn't concern you.”

He folded his arms, jaw tightening. “Then get out of my room. Take your fiancée with you and settle whatever this is somewhere else. I’m done being dragged into your mess.”

Anger surged so fast it almost stole my breath. Heat crawled up my spine, pooling behind my eyes. For one reckless second, violence felt simple. Satisfying. 

“Reese!” Savannah gasped. “What is wrong with you?”

He laughed. “What’s wrong with me?” He pointed at her. “You.” Then at me. “And you.”

She shrank back, stunned. I was stunned too. I’d seen Reese angry before. I had never seen him unravel this horribly. 

“You’re both my problem,” he continued, voice rising. “What am I to you? A messenger? A buffer? You pull me into your battles and expect me to absorb the damage. Back and forth. Back and forth. I’m not a damn yo-yo.”

River hovered near the door, pale. “Reese… Please lower your voice. Someone might hear.”

He didn’t even glance at her.

Somewhere in the chaos, my own anger loosened its grip, replaced by something colder. Watching Reese lose control felt like witnessing a storm tear through a house I thought was built of stone.

“Reese, calm down,” Savannah said gently, stepping toward him. “We were talking. We can keep talking. There's no need to start a fight.”

“Exactly,” he snapped. “We were talking. Then Roman walked in and started barking orders like everyone owes him obedience. If he gets to be unpredictable, maybe I will too.” He jabbed a finger toward me. “Maybe that’s the only language you understand. You're not the only one who's crazy, Roman.”

“Control yourself,” River pleaded. “Please.” 

He ignored her again.

“What is he even angry about?” Reese went on bitterly. “That Savannah is in my room? That we’re speaking privately? What does he think I’m going to do—sleep with her? Over my dead body.”

“Stop it!” Savannah shouted, voice breaking. “What is wrong with you?!”

Reese turned to her, something fierce and exhausted in his expression.

“Why don’t you tell him the truth?” he said. “Why don’t you tell him you came here because you don’t want him involved in Dahlia’s case anymore? Why don’t you tell him you’re afraid he’s walking toward something that will destroy him? Why don’t you tell him you think our father will retaliate—against you… against the baby… if Roman keeps pushing?”

The room went silent. Savannah stared at him in horror.

“Why don’t you tell the man you’re going to marry,” Reese continued quietly, “that you’re afraid you’ll become a widow before you even have the chance to be a wife.”

Savannah shook her head slowly, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“There,” Reese said, stepping back. “I said what you couldn’t. You're fucking welcome, Savannah.” 

River whispered, “Oh my God.”

I didn’t move. Didn’t speak. I just simply looked at Savannah. “That’s what you think?” I asked softly.

She covered her face, sobbing. “No… it’s not like that—”

“Not like what?!” The words tore out of me before I could stop them.

She flinched. The sound of my voice alone made her recoil. Slowly, as if carrying an invisible weight, she walked to the bed and sat down. Her shoulders curved inward, fragile and exhausted.

“Roman,” she whispered, “I’m tired. I don’t want to do this anymore. I feel like… there are three people in this relationship.”

The words struck harder than any accusation.

I swallowed once. “Dahlia was my wife,” I said, forcing each word into shape. “You speak as if she meant nothing. Before there was you, Savannah… there was her. She was my world.”

Memories I never allowed to surface pressed against my mind. 

“She lived in this house. She practically died in this house. My father and the men who followed him treated her like she was disposable. She didn’t just lose her life—she lost her dignity. And you expect me to ignore that? To walk away from what was done to her?”

Savannah looked up, tears trembling on her lashes.

“The love I had for Dahlia ended the moment I chose you,” I continued. “But respect does not die that easily and neither does the past nor what she suffered. She deserved justice. She deserved protection. She deserved more than what she was given.”

My voice dropped, rough with restrained emotion.

“They didn’t only hurt her. They hurt me. They shattered something in me that cannot be rebuilt by pretending it never happened.”

Savannah rose slowly and walked toward me. Her expression had changed again—no longer pleading, no longer uncertain. There was quiet determination in her eyes now. “You’ve made your choice,” she said.

Reese stepped forward quickly. “Savannah, don’t—”

“And I’ve made mine,” she finished.

My pulse thundered. Strangely, I sensed something was coming. Something big. Something that could drive a wedge between us. 

“Pick,” she said. The word echoed in the room.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, barely hearing my own voice. “What?”

A tear slid down her cheek, but she didn’t wipe it away. She didn’t look away either. “Yes,” she said. “Pick between us. Who matters more? Your dead wife… or me, your living fiancée and the mother of your child.”