Julian's POV
The faint, reddish-purple imprint on Elowen’s left cheek cut through my vision like a jagged blade.
My chest surged with a dark, suffocating fury. Elowen had spent seven years by my side. Even if our marriage was falling apart, no one—no one—in this city had the right to put a hand on her.
"Who hit you?" I demanded, stepping closer, my hand reaching out to touch the bruise.
Elowen recoiled instantly, taking a sharp step back into the shadows of the lobby. "Don't touch me, Julian. It’s none of your business."
"None of my business?" My jaw clenched so hard the muscles jumped. "You stand in my family's building with a handprint on your face, and you tell me to drop it? Who did this, Elowen? Give me a name."
"I said leave it," she replied, her voice flat and completely devoi
