I Know What You Did
Chapter 68: I Know What You Did
I rolled my eyes, refusing to let him see how my knees were still trembling in my heels. “We already did.”
He chuckled, still offering me his arm as though he were some polished gentleman instead of the man who had just made me forget how to breathe.
We stepped out of the room, the hallway buzzing with chaos. Bridesmaids rushed past, adjusting curls and lipstick. Someone shouted about a missing bouquet. The other panicked about how late they were. The driver almost pulled out his hair in frustration.
The house smelled of hairspray and perfume, and beneath it all, the faint aroma of champagne.
I caught a glimpse of us in a gilded wall mirror. My hair was still perfect. Makeup still intact. He was careful not to ruin anything. No one would know what had just happened behind that locked door. Except for the wild flush still high on my cheeks, and the dazed look in my eyes. Roman, of course, still looked put together. Not a wrinkle on his suit.
“You look guilty,” he whispered near my ear as we descended the stairs.
“I am guilty.” My voice was sharper than I intended. “I shouldn’t have let you—”
“Let me?” His laugh was quiet. “Sav, you begged for it.”
Heat rushed to my face, anger and embarrassment warring. I clenched my fists, but before I could reply, he held the car door open for me.
“Get in.”
I rolled my eyes before getting into his car. He pulled my dress out of the way before shutting the door and making his way to the other side.
Not many words were said on the way to the extravagant ballroom Chloe had insisted on having her wedding at. Just the sound of Roman's fingers drumming on the steering wheel. And the occasional whistling coming from him.
Why the fuck does he seem so happy?
I was still reeling in disbelief from the fact that Dean was still pushing forward with this deceitful wedding. After everything? It's so unbelievable.
And weren't they yelling just last night? Strange.
The ceremony was already in full swing by the time we arrived there.
Rows of guests had already taken their seats. The hush of expectation filled the air, broken only by the faint sound of a string quartet warming up. At the far end, Chloe stood glowing in her wedding dress, an expensive, diamond embellished ballgown that was handsewn and flown in from Abu Dhabi.
Dean stood beside the officiant, smug in his tux, his jaw tightening the moment he saw me.
And then… every head turned. My parents. My sister, Alyssa. Lizzie. Uncle Jace, Aunt Thelma and Janice. Dean's family. Literally everyone.
And it was all because Roman and I had just entered late. Very late. Together.
A ripple of whispers spread across the room like wildfire.
I froze for half a second, the weight of a hundred eyes burning into me. Roman, unbothered, simply tightened his grip on my waist and guided me forward. His posture screamed confidence, his smirk daring anyone to comment.
“Fashionably late,” he muttered under his breath, amused.
“Roman, this isn’t funny.” My voice was strained, panic clawing up my throat.
“Sure it is.”
I wanted to elbow him, scream at him, anything—but the music swelled, the officiant cleared his throat, and suddenly all attention snapped back to Chloe as she began walking down the aisle.
Still, I could feel the glares burning holes in me. The bridesmaids whispered behind their bouquets. One of the groomsmen smirked knowingly. Dean’s eyes narrowed, suspicion sharp as a knife, his attention not even on Chloe.
Roman leaned close, lips brushing my ear. “Relax, Sav. No one knows.”
The problem was, I wasn’t sure I wanted that to be true.
Because in the reflection of his eyes, I saw it again—the look he had given me in the mirror. Possession. Hunger. And the terrifying realization that I wasn’t just mad at him. I was mad at myself.
I should’ve been at Chloe’s side. Fixing her veil, holding her bouquet, whispering encouragement. Instead, I was slipping in late, Roman’s hand still warm on my waist, trying to pretend like my legs weren’t trembling for reasons no one could ever know.
The hall glittered around us, all golden light and polished elegance. Too much sparkle, too much shine, like even the air was dipped in a million dollars. Chandeliers dripped from the ceiling like crystal rain, scattering light across the silk-draped walls. I should have felt awe. Instead, I felt exposed.
Whispers trailed behind me as I took my place, slipping into the lineup of bridesmaids just as the first notes of the music swelled. One girl shot me a sharp look, lips pursed, phone held up.
My father looked at me with a scowl on his face, shaking his head while muttering something to my mom who offered me a tight smile before facing forward.
Roman, of course, didn’t care about anyone present. He slid into his seat confidently, as though he owned the entire place. And honestly? I wanted to kill him.
Chloe appeared at the top of the aisle, her veil glimmering with tiny crystals that caught the candlelight. For a moment, everything stilled. She looked like she had stepped straight out of a dream. My dream.
Or at least what used to be my dream.
I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about that. I wasn’t supposed to be remembering the way Dean used to tell me how much he loved me.
My stomach twisted at the thought. Why was I suddenly thinking of that? And especially, why didn't I feel affected like before?
My phone vibrated with a message from Roman: Breathe, Savannah. You look like you've seen a ghost.
His eyes met mine across the room. And he held it for a while before fleeting towards Chloe, who was already making her way to Dean.
Chloe slowly walked past me. And our eyes met. Just for a heartbeat.
And she did the strangest thing. She smiled at me. A little.
Her smile faltered—only slightly, but I caught it. And my chest squeezed with strange guilt.
Dean was watching me too, his jaw impossibly tight, suspicion darkening his face. He looked between me and Roman like he was piecing something together, and my heart sank deeper with every second.
I lifted Chloe’s train as she reached me, forcing a bright smile, whispering, “You look beautiful.”
She gave me a small nod, lips pressed tight. Her bouquet shook just enough for me to notice. “Thank you.”
The ceremony blurred. Words about love and forever floated around me, but I couldn’t seem to focus. Not with Roman’s gaze burning holes into the side of my face. Not with Dean’s narrowed eyes tracking every shift of my body while exchanging his vows. Not with guilt clawing through me at the reality that I almost ruined this out of selfishness.
But when the vows ended and applause filled the glittering hall, Chloe squeezed my hand a little too hard. The kind of squeeze that wasn’t about gratitude.
It was a warning.
And just a few moments after that, the warning came. Just a quiet whisper in my ear that anyone looking from afar would confuse with sisterly affection.
“You bitch, I know what you did yesterday. Did you really think it'd be that easy to ruin my wedding?”