"We married her off to you, Roman. We also decide when we are done with the marriage," the old woman spat, her voice sharp and cold. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides as she glared at him. "Don't get ahead of yourself." She added.
Roman's lips curled into something dangerously close to a smile.
"Now that you mention it…" he said, stepping forward slowly. Without another word, he bent down and lifted Patricia into his arms, holding her close as if daring anyone to stop him. "I am tempted to get ahead of myself."
With Patricia secured in his arms, he turned and walked toward the door. But just as he reached the maid who had whipped her, where Kay now stood waiting, he came to a halt.
"Take her away," he ordered, voice like steel. Kay responded immediately, but Roman's eyes had already shifted, falling on Clara, who stood frozen nearby.
His gaze hardened. "Take her too."
