From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 113

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**

**Chapter 113**

The atmosphere was thick with tension, but nothing pierced the air quite like Chloe’s scream. It was a raw, agonizing sound that sliced through the chaos of the room, echoing with a desperate urgency.

“Roman, no!” I cried out, my legs trembling as I rushed forward, my heart hammering violently against my ribcage, each beat a reminder of the impending dread.

Roman seemed oblivious to my pleas. Or perhaps he heard me but chose to ignore my voice entirely. He was straddling Dean on the floor, unleashing a flurry of punches that landed with brutal accuracy. Dean, battered and helpless, weakly raised his arms in a futile attempt to protect himself from the onslaught. But Roman was a force of nature, his fury igniting every movement he made.

“I warned you, didn’t I?!” Roman’s voice boomed, shaking the very air around us, filled with a primal rage that was almost palpable.

“Stop it! Let him go!” Chloe’s voice rang out, a mixture of panic and desperation as she struggled against the grip of her friends. They held her arms tightly, their frantic whispers reminding her of her pregnancy, urging her not to throw herself into the fray.

With every ounce of strength, I surged forward, my lungs burning, every nerve in my body screaming at me to intervene. Dean’s face was already slick with blood, his groans pitiful and haunting. Roman was a whirlwind of fury, seemingly impervious to the suffering he was inflicting. In that moment, he appeared as if he were possessed, lost to the storm of his emotions.

Desperately, I reached out, grabbing his arm mid-swing. My fingers wrapped around the taut muscle, trembling with fear and adrenaline. “Roman, stop! You’re going to kill him!” I implored, my voice cracking under the weight of the situation.

For just a fleeting moment, his wild, feral eyes met mine. It was as if my words had pierced through the haze of his rage, just enough for the groomsmen to spring into action.

“Hold him back!” a voice shouted from the crowd.

Two men seized Roman’s shoulders while another tried to restrain his arms. He erupted in a frenzy, thrashing like a wild beast caught in a trap.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” he roared, jerking free from their grasp. His fierce glare landed on Henry, the last to release him. “I’ll break your arm if you touch me again.”

Henry froze, fear etched on his face.

Please, Henry, don’t be foolish. Just walk away. Roman already despises you for what you did at the rehearsal dinner. You’re only reminding him of the punishment he wants to exact.

Fortunately, Henry seemed to read the urgency in my expression and backed away, his pallor a testament to his fear.

The crowd had gathered around us, whispers swirling like a tempest. My father’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding, demanding attention.

“What the hell is the meaning of this?” His face was a storm cloud, taking in the sight of Dean, battered and groaning on the remnants of the wedding cake.

Roman’s chest heaved, fists still clenched, but his voice was just as thunderous. “Ask your son-in-law why he can’t keep his fucking hands off my fiancée!”

Every gaze in the room turned to me, the heat of their scrutiny igniting my cheeks. My hands clenched the fabric of my dress at my sides, knuckles turning white under the pressure of all those eyes.

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