CHAPTER 2 — The Forgotten Marriage
The restaurant did not simply become quiet.
It fractured.
Gasps erupted from every corner of Le Beaumont. Chairs scraped violently against marble. Someone dropped a fork. A woman near the back actually screamed.
Savannah stood frozen.
Roman’s hand still rested lightly on her shoulder.
Warm.
Steady.
Possessive.
Her mind struggled to catch up.
Wife?
The word crashed through her like cold water.
Bianca staggered backward as if physically struck.
“No,” she whispered. Then louder—hysterical. “NO!”
She pointed at Savannah with shaking fingers.
“She’s lying!”
Roman’s expression didn’t change.
Bianca turned toward him.
“You’re joking.”
Silence.
“Roman… tell them this is some kind of sick joke.”
Still nothing.
Bianca’s breathing became ragged.
“You are engaged to me.”
Roman’s eyes hardened.
“Were.”
The single syllable landed like a gunshot.
Bianca’s face drained of color.
The guests began whispering furiously.
“What is happening?”
“Did he say wife?”
“Impossible.”
“She’s a waitress.”
Savannah finally found her voice.
“No.”
Her whisper shook.
Roman looked at her.
She stepped away from his hand.
“No,” she repeated, louder now. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know you.”
That hurt something behind Roman’s eyes.
Only for a second.
Then it vanished.
He studied her face carefully.
“Savannah Ward.”
She froze.
He knew her full name.
“You were born in Richmond, Virginia.”
Her pulse spiked.
“You moved to Arlington at twenty-two.”
Her breathing became shallow.
“You attended Georgetown for two years.”
Her knees weakened.
“How do you know that?”
Roman reached slowly into his jacket.
Every guard tensed.
Bianca stared in disbelief.
He pulled out a slim black leather wallet.
Opened it.
Removed something folded.
A document.
He handed it to Savannah.
Her fingers trembled as she opened it.
Then her blood turned to ice.
Marriage Certificate.
State of Nevada.
Roman Volkov.
Savannah Elise Ward.
Married.
Eight years ago.
Signed.
Stamped.
Legal.
Her vision blurred.
“No…”
She scanned the signature.
It was hers.
Her handwriting.
Her signature.
Impossible.
“This isn’t real.”
Roman spoke quietly.
“It is.”
Savannah shook her head violently.
“No.”
Her breath hitched.
“No, I would remember getting married!”
Roman stared at her.
“Yes.”
His voice softened.
“You should.”
Eight years earlier.
Las Vegas.
Rain.
Neon lights.
A car accident.
A hospital room.
Flashes hit Savannah’s mind.
Broken fragments.
Not memories.
Pieces.
A chapel.
White flowers.
A man’s hand.
Blood.
Sirens.
Her head pounded.
She grabbed the table for support.
Roman moved toward her.
She flinched.
“Don’t touch me.”
He stopped instantly.
The restaurant watched in absolute silence.
Bianca’s shock began mutating into rage.
“You expect everyone to believe this?”
She laughed hysterically.
“A secret marriage to a waitress?”
Roman didn’t even look at her.
Bianca’s voice sharpened.
“Roman!”
Nothing.
That frightened her more than shouting would have.
She had known Roman Volkov for two years.
She had seen him ruthless.
Cold.
Deadly.
But never emotional.
Never invested.
And now—
He looked at Savannah like the rest of the world had disappeared.
Bianca realized something horrifying.
This was not improvisation.
This mattered to him.
Deeply.
She lunged toward Savannah.
“You little liar—”
Before she reached her, Roman moved.
Fast.
Terrifyingly fast.
He caught Bianca’s wrist midair.
Not violently.
Not dramatically.
But the force stopped her completely.
Bianca gasped.
Roman’s voice dropped low.
Deadly.
“I warned them not to touch her.”
Bianca trembled.
“Roman… you’re hurting me.”
His grip tightened.
Just enough.
“You should leave.”
Her mouth fell open.
“What?”
“Now.”
Tears spilled down her face.
“You’re choosing her?”
Roman released her wrist.
“I never chose you.”
That destroyed her.
Bianca staggered backward.
The words hit harder than humiliation.
Because they were true.
She had spent months trying to win his affection.
Months becoming the perfect public fiancée.
Elegant.
Powerful.
Beautiful.
Useful.
But she had never had his heart.
Now she understood why.
He had already given it away.
Savannah’s head throbbed.
Fragments kept surfacing.
A rainy highway.
A black SUV.
A voice saying:
Stay with me.
A chapel bell.
A ring.
No.
Impossible.
She pressed fingers to her temple.
Roman noticed.
“Sit.”
It wasn’t a command.
It sounded like concern.
She glared at him.
“Stop acting like you know me.”
He didn’t answer.
That silence angered her.
“What happened?”
Still silence.
“Tell me!”
Roman finally spoke.
“You disappeared.”
Savannah stared.
He continued.
“Eight years ago.”
“Three days after we married.”
“You vanished.”
The room listened like an audience to tragedy.
Savannah’s voice shook.
“That makes no sense.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“You were in a car accident.”
Her heart skipped.
“I woke up in a hospital.”
The words escaped before she realized.
Roman’s eyes sharpened.
“Yes.”
Memories.
Tiny pieces.
Hospital lights.
A doctor.
A woman crying.
Voices saying memory loss.
Her breathing turned uneven.
Roman continued.
“They told me you died.”
Silence.
Even the guests stopped whispering.
Savannah blinked.
“What?”
Roman’s voice remained calm.
Too calm.
“They identified the wrong body.”
A chill ran through the room.
“One of my enemies staged it.”
Savannah’s pulse thundered.
“No…”
“They wanted leverage.”
Roman’s gray eyes darkened.
“They wanted to break me.”
Bianca whispered in disbelief.
“This is insane…”
Roman ignored her.
Savannah’s knees buckled.
She sat heavily.
The memories hit harder.
Not complete.
But enough.
A wedding chapel.
A rushed ceremony.
A man bleeding from his side.
Roman.
She saw his face.
Younger.
Bloodied.
Beautiful and terrifying.
She heard herself say:
I do.
Her breath stopped.
Tears filled her eyes.
“Oh God.”
Roman saw it.
“You remember.”
Not a question.
Savannah began shaking.
“I…”
More fragments.
She had been in Vegas for spring break.
No.
For a friend’s birthday.
No—
She met him after a shooting.
He had been injured.
People were hunting him.
They needed legal spousal privilege to avoid testimony—
No.
That wasn’t all.
She had stayed.
She had chosen.
She had loved him.
The realization shattered her.
“I remember you.”
Roman closed his eyes briefly.
As if surviving impact.
When he opened them—
Something human broke through the steel.
Relief.
Eight years of buried grief.
Raw.
Visible.
The restaurant collectively stopped breathing again.
Savannah whispered:
“Roman…”
It was the first time she said his name.
And something inside him broke.
He stepped closer.
“Savannah.”
Tears streamed down her face.
“You let me think my whole life was normal.”
His voice dropped.
“I searched for your body for eighteen months.”
She stared.
“I buried an empty coffin.”
A woman at table nine started crying.
Even strangers felt the weight of those words.
Savannah pressed a hand over her mouth.
Roman continued.
Quiet.
Brutal.
“When they told me you were dead…”
He paused.
The pause hurt more than words.
“…I killed every man involved.”
No one doubted him.
Not one person.
Bianca looked sick.
Savannah’s voice trembled.
“You loved me?”
Roman stared.
That question almost offended something sacred.
He stepped closer.
Lower.
Softer.
“I never stopped.”
The room disappeared for Savannah.
No guests.
No Bianca.
No guards.
Only him.
The man she had married.
Forgotten.
Buried in memory.
Still waiting.
Still grieving.
Still loving.
She whispered:
“Why didn’t you find me?”
Roman answered immediately.
“I did.”
Her breath caught.
“What?”
His jaw tightened.
“Three years ago.”
Her heart stopped.
“You were living under another name.”
Savannah froze.
“What?”
“Someone was protecting you.”
Cold fear spread through her.
Roman’s eyes darkened.
“They erased records.”
“They changed documents.”
“They made sure I couldn’t reach you.”
Savannah shook her head.
“No…”
Roman said the words that froze everyone.
“The people who stole you…”
His voice became ice.
“…are still alive.”
Silence.
Then—
A glass shattered near the bar.
No one moved.
Savannah whispered:
“They know I’m here.”
Roman’s gaze swept the room.
Predatory.
Dangerous.
“Yes.”
His bodyguards instantly changed formation.
Weapons ready.
Bianca finally understood.
This wasn’t drama.
This wasn’t romance.
This was war.
Roman spoke without turning.
“Lock the exits.”
The guards moved.
Guests panicked.
“What’s happening?”
“Why lock the doors?”
Roman’s eyes never left the crowd.
“Because if they know she remembers…”
He placed himself fully between Savannah and the room.
“…they’ll try to finish what they started.”
Then—
The chandelier exploded.
Glass rained from the ceiling.
Screams tore through Le Beaumont.
May you like
Gunshots erupted.
And chaos began.
