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... r. His eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape, but there was none.

"W-What?" he stammered, his voice almost like a whisper.

Eryx took another step forward, his presence suffocating. "I asked you," he repeated, slow and clearly, "which hand touched my wife?"

Lunara's grip on his sleeve tightened. This was escalating too fast. "Mr. Grantham," she whispered, trying to pull him back. "It's done. Let's go."

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