“Roman, this is my dad, Julius Hart. Dad, this is Roman, my fiancé.”
Roman extended his hand confidently. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir.”
Dad regarded Roman with a proud, almost satisfied nod, as if he had just passed some unspoken test before shaking his hand firmly.
“I was worried when Chloe mentioned Savannah was bringing home a husband. Now I’m worried that Savannah’s the one you’re bringing home to your people,” Dad remarked, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my stomach drop.
My gaze shot up to meet his, surprise and indignation flaring within me.
Chloe threw her head back and laughed, the sound ringing hollow in the tense atmosphere.
Dean let out a hearty laugh, the sound reverberating through the air like a playful challenge.
For a brief moment, I noticed Roman’s jaw tighten, a flicker of tension crossing his face, yet his voice remained as smooth and sweet as honey.
“Savannah’s a wonderful woman, sir. I feel like the lucky one here,” he declared, his eyes glinting with sincerity.
“If only that were true,” Dad grumbled, his tone dripping with skepticism. “Unfortunately, I’ve witnessed the devastation she leaves in her wake for almost thirty years. Convincing me otherwise is nearly impossible.”
My jaw tightened, the muscles straining as frustration coursed through me, a vein pulsing ominously at my temple.
“Savannah’s a wonderful woman, sir,” Roman reiterated, this time with a smile that barely concealed his simmering anger. “But don’t worry. I can handle a little fire.”
“Good luck with that. Hope you packed an extinguisher,” Dean shot back, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
In a moment of rebellion, I discreetly flipped him the bird, my heart racing with indignation.
“Ah, I take it you had a dozen of those and still ditched at the first sight of the smoke,” Roman replied, a teasing lilt in his voice.
Dean attempted to mimic Roman’s confident stance, and I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. It was amusing, really, watching him try to assert himself.
“Yes, because only a wise man knows to run at the first whiff of smoke. The fool waits for the flames to engulf him,” Dean retorted, a self-satisfied grin spreading across his face.
A moment of silence hung in the air, thick with anticipation. It felt as if we were all collectively holding our breath, waiting for the next move. Alyssa paused mid-bite, her mimosa hovering in front of her, while Chloe’s gaze was glued to Roman, curiosity and concern mingling in her eyes. Mom looked like she was silently pleading for divine intervention to help us survive this day. Aunt Janice leaned in to whisper to Aunt Thelma, who was secretly filming the entire spectacle, her eyes wide with excitement.
Roman stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and Dean. The confusion on Roman’s face morphed into something akin to pity as he regarded Dean, their eyes locked in an unyielding stare.
“You’re not scary or tough. Not even remotely. You’re just a nervous little man seeking attention,” Roman stated flatly, as if he were unveiling the truth of Dean’s existence.
A gasp echoed through the room. It was likely Aunt Carol, her shock palpable.
Dad’s expression remained neutral, neither smiling nor frowning. He simply observed, his gaze keen and unyielding.
“Where’s our bedroom, Sav? My neck hurts from looking down at this guy,” Roman said, tilting his head toward Dean with a hint of mockery.
Alyssa nearly toppled off the arm of the couch, laughter bubbling out of her. “Oh my God, Savannah-where did you find him? Give me the deets!”
“Can you shut up?” I shot back, my voice laced with irritation.
Chloe’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, as if she were caught in a scandal. She blinked at the gift box on the floor as though it had personally insulted her beliefs, her morals, and her dreams of a perfect wedding.
Then, with a glare that could pierce through steel, she directed her fury at Roman, her eyes blazing with unspoken words.
I was already leading Roman up the seemingly endless flight of stairs, heading toward my old bedroom, a blend of nostalgia and anxiety swirling within me.
Mom cleared her throat, breaking the tension that hung in the air.
“Um, your bedroom is right up the stairs. The third door on the left,” she announced, her voice steady but slightly unsure.
I paused, a sense of foreboding washing over me.
“Um, no? That’s not my bedroom. That’s Chloe’s bedroom. Mine is down the hall, the first door on the right,” I countered, already sensing the shift in the atmosphere.
Mom exchanged a glance with Chloe, her expression unreadable.
“Chloe’s staying in your room. It’s much bigger, and she needs all the space she can get for the wedding,” she explained, her words dripping with an unsettling finality.
“What?” I blurted out, disbelief flooding my voice.
Mom quickly attempted damage control. “But it’s not permanent, sweetie. After the wedding, Chloe’s going to move back into her room.”
“So why didn’t anyone mention it?” I demanded, frustration bubbling over.
Chloe shrugged, her indifference infuriating me further. “It’s a bedroom. Don’t make a drama out of this too.”
“Savannah, if it’s not up to your taste, then pick one from the spare rooms,” Dad suggested, his tone oddly casual.
“Why didn’t Chloe pick from those?” I shot back, my irritation boiling over.
“Like hell I’m staying in a guest bedroom in my own home,” she scoffed, her arrogance palpable.
Of course. Savannah deserves to sleep in the spare room, while Chloe gets to claim my bed as if it were her right.
In a fit of frustration, I slammed my hand against the wall, the crack echoing through the room like the shattering of my composure.
“You did this intentionally, Chloe. This isn’t even about the bedroom. You’ve always had your eyes on everything that’s mine.”
“Are we still on about the room, Sav?” Chloe quipped, a teasing smirk playing on her lips.
The air thickened with an unspoken tension, as if everyone present was tiptoeing around the fragile ego of the star child. Silence reigned, an uncomfortable blanket draped over the room.
Dad cleared his throat, a sound that echoed with authority. “Savannah, adjusting a few details for your younger sister’s event should not dredge up old memories that haunt us.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.