Final Semester, First Heir: Pregnant by the Billionaire CEO

Roman's POV

The moment I found out Raven had met with her father alone, something inside me snapped.

Not in a rage-filled, destructive way—but in a way that left me feeling restless, frustrated, and out of place.

Why hadn't she told me?
Why hadn't she asked me to come with her?

I wasn't angry with her.

I was angry that she had to face something so difficult without someone by her side.

Without me.

I didn't just want to be there for the baby.

I wanted to be there for her.

And the fact that she hadn't trusted me enough to let me in on that moment?

It stung.

So instead of doing what my instincts screamed at me to do—demand answers from Raven—I did something I hadn't done in years.

I went to see my mother.

The One Person Who Always Had My Back

The drive to my mother's house was long, giving me too much time to think.

By the time I pulled into her driveway, I had gone through at least twenty different scenarios in my head—each one ending with me feeling more frustrated than before.

I walked inside without knocking, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla filling the air.

"Roman?" my mother's voice called from the kitchen.

I followed the sound, finding her pulling a tray of cookies out of the oven.

She turned to me, raising an eyebrow. "Did something happen?"

I sighed, running a hand down my face as I took a seat at the kitchen table. "I needed to talk."

She studied me for a moment, then set the tray down and sat across from me.

"Alright," she said gently. "Tell me what's on your mind."

I hesitated before finally saying, "Raven met with her father."

Mom's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Oh?"

I nodded, gripping the edge of the table. "And she didn't tell me until after it happened."

There. It was out.

Mom tilted her head, watching me carefully. "And how does that make you feel?"

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. "Frustrated. Confused. She's letting this man—who walked out on her life—back in, and she didn't even think to bring someone with her for support."

Mom hummed, as if processing my words.

Then she asked, "Roman... do you love her?"

I froze.

The question hit me like a punch to the gut.

Love?

That wasn't a word I threw around lightly.

I had always been careful with emotions—kept them at a safe distance.

But Raven?

She had torn down those walls without even trying.

She challenged me, made me think, made me feel—and that scared the hell out of me.

But instead of answering, I deflected.