All Chapters of From Best Friend To Fiancé : Chapter 241 - Chapter 250

Chapter 241: I Have A Daughter Savannah “Savannah!” Alyssa’s voice cut sharply through the haze.I barely registered her as I tore the IV from my wrist, ignoring the sharp sting and the sudden warmth of blood trailing down my skin. Pain meant nothing. Nothing mattered except Roman.With my legs already swung off the bed, dizziness threatened to knock me flat, but rage anchored me upright. Rage and fear and the gnawing certainty that something was happening without me—something irreversible.“Savannah, wait!” Alyssa shouted, scrambling after me as I stormed into the hallway. Emily who was asleep on the couch followed after mom too, calling out to her. I didn’t slow.The hospital corridor stretched endlessly ahead of me, polished floors reflecting the harsh lights overhead. Nurses turned. Doctors paused mid-conversation. Someone called my name. Someone else gasped when they noticed my gown half open, my bare feet slapping against the cold tiles, blood dripping steadily from my wrist

Chapter 243: This Is RealReese“I’ll go get my things.”Elizabeth said it like the world wasn’t collapsing in on itself. Like Roman hadn’t just been reduced to a body breathing by machines. Like the word coma hadn’t detonated something ugly and irreversible inside my chest. She said it like she didn't realize that things had gotten dangerous. She turned toward the hallway, already moving, already planning. Panic clung to her movements—too fast, too sharp—but underneath it was resolve. The kind that got people killed.My mind lagged behind reality.Roman was unconscious. Roman was at the manor.Those two facts refused to exist together in my head. They collided, over and over, like blunt objects smashing into bone. I stood there, staring at nothing, my vision blurring at the edges as if my brain was trying to protect me by shutting the hell down.How did it happen so fast?One minute we were stable—barely, but still breathing—and the next everything was chaos. No warning. No prepara

Chapter 245: Which One Are You?Savannah There really wasn’t a proper word for the bedroom.I searched for one as I stood just inside the doorway, my hand still resting on the door handle, my body frozen like I might be intruding on something sacred—or cursed. Grand didn’t quite cover it. Luxurious felt cheap in comparison. Extravagant didn’t capture the weight of it.Majestic came closest.The room looked like something lifted straight out of a historical painting, the kind framed in gold and guarded by velvet ropes in museums. Deep crimson drapes cascaded from the ceiling, pooling against polished marble floors. Gold detailing traced every surface—along the furniture, the walls, the molding, even the edges of the mirrors. Nothing sparkled obnoxiously, yet everything gleamed with a kind of quiet arrogance, like it knew it was priceless and just didn’t need any validation.And the bed.God.It was massive. Oversized to the point of intimidation. A canopy bed—an actual fucking canopy

Chapter 247: Miss Valentine ReeseIf there was one thing I knew for certain, it was this. My father never did anything without a reason.Not kindness. Not mercy. Not patience.Reginald Blackwood didn’t just wake up one morning and decide to be generous. He didn’t suddenly soften with age, nor did he ever extend olive branches without a blade hidden in the leaves.So if Savannah was allowed to stay here—If she was permitted under this roof, breathing the same air as him—then something was coming.I just didn’t know what yet. And that was the worst part. Because when my father plotted, the danger wasn’t always immediate. Sometimes it took days. Sometimes weeks. He liked watching people settle, liked letting them believe they were safe before pulling the ground out from under them.No one ever saw it coming.Savannah emerged from the bathroom a few moments later, and despite everything weighing on my mind, I couldn’t help noticing her.The clothes fit perfectly—River’s, apparently—and

Chapter 249: You'll Understand Savannah It was about five minutes later when Reese finally stepped out of Roman’s room. He had a handkerchief clenched in one fist.I didn’t ask where it came from. I didn’t ask if he was okay. I didn’t ask anything at all. Some grief didn’t need commentary, and Reese’s was the kind that demanded silence.We walked side by side down the hallway, the space between us filled with unspoken words and a tension so thick it pressed against my chest. The manor felt different now. It was even colder and heavier. Every step echoed too loudly against the marble floors.“You know,” Reese said suddenly, breaking the silence, “I want to be mad at you.”My stomach dropped.“I want to cuss you out. I want to hurt you for being anywhere near that gun that left Roman in that state.”I swallowed hard, my throat burning.“But I can’t,” he continued, jaw locked. “My brother would hate me forever if I ever laid a hand on you. He’d never forgive me. He’d never speak to me