Alyssa let out a snort of laughter, clearly amused.
Roman leaned closer, his lips brushing against my ear as he murmured, “Well? You want to tell them, love?”
A wave of exhilaration washed over me, realizing he was giving me the reins this time.
“Next spring,” I replied quickly, my voice steady. “A small wedding. Beachside. Just us and the people we love.”
Dean’s expression soured, as if he had just swallowed a lemon whole.
“Will Dean and I get an invite?” Chloe asked sweetly, her tone deceptively innocent.
I flashed a wide grin in her direction. “Oh honey, if we start inviting exes, we’ll need a whole other venue.”
A collective gasp-laughter erupted around the table, the tension momentarily dissipating.
Roman leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple, as if I were the most intoxicating woman in the room.
“I love when you’re petty,” he whispered into my hair, his breath warm against my skin.
“So, how did you two meet?” Dean asked, his voice casual but with an edge that suggested he was probing for something deeper.
Roman raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “At a business meeting.”
“Is she still at that firm?” Dean turned to me, his tone shifting. “I thought you wanted to quit at one point.”
“Thought you once wanted to marry me,” I shot back, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
The table fell silent, the air thick with unspoken tension.
I lifted my glass of wine, taking a sip to steady myself. “Guess we both settled.”
Dean opened his mouth to respond, but Roman interjected, his calm demeanor turning lethal. “She could’ve had anyone. She chose me. Lucky me.”
Dean leaned back, skepticism etched on his face. “Right. Because this is real.”
“What’s not real about it?” Roman asked, a cold smile playing on his lips. “I’m here. She’s mine. You’re invited to the wedding-though we’ll understand if you’re too busy to attend.”
Chloe’s fork scraped against her plate, a sound that echoed like a warning.
“We’re so happy,” she said through clenched teeth, her smile strained. “Aren’t we, Dean?”
Dean remained silent, his gaze fixed on me, calculating.
“I did a lazy search, son. You were featured in Forbes?” Dad asked casually, his eyes glinting with pride as he gestured for me to pass the cherry tomatoes.
“Twice,” Roman replied, his tone dismissive of any notion of humility. “But who’s counting?”
Dean stabbed his steak with a ferocity that suggested it owed him money.
“You brought the Aston Martin Vantage?” my father continued, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. “I’ve always said you can tell a man’s character by the car he drives.”
“Oh God,” I muttered under my breath, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.
Roman adjusted his cuffs, his demeanor calm and calculated. “It was either that or the Mercedes-AMG GT Coupe.”
I glanced at Chloe, noting how tightly she gripped her fork, her knuckles white with tension.
Dad’s face beamed with pride, as if he were watching his son achieve greatness. “I like this man, Savannah. This is the first time you’ve made me proud.”
Dean’s jaw clenched as Chloe leaned in, whispering something to him. His hand continued to twirl the wine glass slowly, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on me.
Chloe pulled back with a forced smile, while Dean’s calculating eyes bore into me, his lips pursed into a tight line as he leaned back with an exaggerated sigh.
“Sav, everything seems a little too fast-paced,” Chloe began, her voice laced with concern. “So we were all kind of wondering, are you pregnant, sis?”
I spat out the cherry tomatoes that had just burst in my mouth, my mind racing to process what I had just heard. “What?” I exclaimed, bewildered.
Roman, ever the picture of confidence, remained unfazed, casually complimenting my mother’s hairdo as if the conversation had never taken a turn.
“That’s a great question actually,” Lizzie chimed in, her voice laced with curiosity.
Chloe, with her trademark nonchalance, shrugged her shoulders. “Not like it’s any of your business, Chloe, but I’m not,” she retorted, her tone dismissive.
A hint of mischief danced in Chloe’s eyes. “Oh well, we were just curious. You know, Roman’s way up there in the world, and you’re, well, barely scraping by. If he’s into you to the point of marrying you, then… I guess we’re right to wonder if you’re either trapping him with good sex or a baby.” She dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Chloe!” My mother gasped, her expression a mix of shock and disapproval.
“Can’t a man be in love, blondie?” Roman drawled, his tone teasing yet serious.
“It’s possible. But with my sister? That’s difficult to believe,” Chloe shot back, her skepticism evident.
“Your sister’s perfect. Too perfect, in fact. There’s nothing hard to believe here. Unless you’ve got a really low IQ, which seems to be the case,” Roman asserted, his words dripping with sarcasm.
A laugh escaped me, the tension easing slightly.
“Excuse you?” Chloe snapped, her indignation flaring. She immediately turned to Dad, her eyes wide. “Dad, did you hear that? He just called me unintelligent!”
“You defending her, son?” Dad asked, a teasing glint in his eye.
“Always,” Roman replied without a moment’s hesitation. His voice was smooth, but the intensity in his gaze was undeniable. “That’s part of the job.”
Dad smirked, a hint of admiration creeping into his expression. “A man who stands up for his woman. I respect that.”
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.