The faint hum of activity filtered through the door. Voices, movement, everything was already in motion. She had barely pushed forward when Roman's hand came down on the handles, firm enough to stop her.
That single gesture caused a shift in the room, and the stylists and makeup artists exchanged quick, knowing glances. One by one, they gathered their things and slipped out, their footsteps quiet, the door clicking shut behind the last of them.
Silence followed.
Estelle looked up at him, her brows drawing together slightly. "What are you doing?"
Roman stepped around her, positioning himself in front of her chair, close enough to block her path. "I'm making sure we're still on the same page," he said, his voice lower now, tinged with something sharper. "That you're not about to go out there and throw me under the bus, or say something that ruins everything we've planned."
