From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 102

**Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**
**Chapter 67: Eyes On The Mirror**

An hour had slipped by, and there I stood, transfixed before the full-length mirror, confronted by the reflection of a stranger.

The emerald green dress clung to my form with an almost possessive grip, accentuating my curves in a way that felt both alluring and intimidating. The daring neckline seemed to challenge gravity itself, daring it to humiliate me before the wedding even had a chance to begin. My face was a canvas of glamor, painted to perfection. The makeup was flawless, my lashes long and fluttery, and my lips were a bold shade of red that screamed confidence. Yet, as I scrutinized my appearance, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I looked different—too polished, too meticulously arranged.

This wasn’t me.

I nervously tugged at the neckline, my mind racing with thoughts of potential nip slips, when suddenly, I caught a whiff of it—his scent. That sharp, intoxicating cologne that always seemed to announce his presence before his touch ever could. Just then, his strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me back against the solid warmth of his body. I could feel his nose buried in my hair, his breath a gentle breeze against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, my love,” Roman murmured, his voice a low rumble as he spun me around to face him.

A rush of conflicting emotions surged through me, and my fists clenched at my sides. Memories of everything he had done this morning flooded back—his threats to get me ready, the fervent insistence that this wedding would happen, the countless betrayals that had left me reeling. Yet, here he stood, gazing into my eyes as if I were the most exquisite creation to ever grace the earth.

It was maddening. I felt an overwhelming urge to scream, to stab him with the very stiletto I wore, or perhaps both.

So, I opted for the next best thing. I lifted my silver stiletto and brought it down hard on his foot, the satisfying thud echoing in the tension-filled room.

I anticipated a curse, a wince, or at least a sign of discomfort. But instead, a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“You’re one vindictive woman, Sav.”

“And you’re an asshole!” I hissed, shoving against his chest with all the force I could muster, but he remained unyielding, a rock against my frustration.

“That’s fair,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face, completely unfazed by my outburst.

Turning my back to him, I returned my gaze to the mirror, determined not to give him the satisfaction of my attention. “I’m really mad at you, Roman.”

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