“What? How’s this possible?” Eleanor asked, shocked. “What are you doing here?”Roman stood there — suit rumpled, jaw bruised, eyes blazing with quiet fury.His grip tightened around Eleanor’s wrist.“Let me go, you son of a bitch!” she growled, trying to pull free.“Don’t,” Roman said quietly.His voice was calm, but it carried a warning that made the room feel suddenly smaller.“Don’t you ever think you can lay a hand on my mother,” he continued, his eyes fixed on her. “Ever again.”For a moment, neither of them moved.Then Roman released her sharply.Eleanor jerked her arm back immediately, rubbing her wrist where his fingers had held it. Her eyes burned with fury as she stared at him.Salima still hadn’t moved.She stood there frozen, staring at Roman as if she wasn’t sure he was real.Roman turned to her.“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.Salima blinked, as if waking up from a dream.“Yes… I— I’m fine,” she said quickly. Her eyes scanned his face, lingering on the bruise on his
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