From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 136

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**

**Chapter 136**

Reese came to an abrupt halt, his voice a low mutter that barely escaped his lips. The tension in his jaw was palpable, and his fingers dug into the skin between his brows, a clear sign that he was wrestling with irritation. Then, his frustration erupted, louder now, “For fuck’s sake. Stop being such a girl.”

A surge of anger ignited within me, cutting through the haze of fear. “I am a girl, stupid!” I shot back, my voice laced with defiance.

In that instant, I knew I had crossed a line. His patience fractured like glass under pressure. In a dizzying whirl, he turned me around, pressing my front against the unforgiving wall. My wrists were wrenched behind my back, bound together as if I were some sort of criminal. The humiliation seared through me, more intense than the physical pain. I struggled against him, panic clawing its way up my throat, tears threatening to spill over.

“What are you doing, Reese? Let me go! Do you even realize what you’re doing?” My voice trembled, a mix of fear and indignation.

His tone shifted unexpectedly, a crack of sorrow threading through his words. “I’m so sorry, Sister-in-law. But I must not let you leave. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for this.”

I spat my response, venom dripping from my words. “Well, you can kiss that forgiveness goodbye! You’re not getting it from me, asshole! I thought you were decent.”

Before he could muster a reply, the front door swung open with a resounding crash.

I froze, my body rigid against the wall, as if I had become a statue carved from stone.

From my constrained position, all I could see were polished black shoes and sharply pressed trousers, a parade of suits marching inside with a disciplined precision. They fanned out, forming a line that flanked both sides of the foyer, their presence consuming the space, their silence heavier than any words they could have uttered.

My breath hitched, shallow and ragged, and I ceased my struggles. Fear was eclipsed by a burgeoning curiosity.

“Finally,” Reese muttered behind me, his voice dripping with impatience. “It was about fucking time.”

The line of men in suits stood immobile, their expressions unreadable, their posture faultlessly erect. Then, a sound broke the stillness.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The rhythmic sound of a walking stick striking the marble floor, steady and unwavering like a metronome, synced with the frantic pounding of my heart, drowning out every other noise until it was all-consuming.

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like sandpaper.

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