Roman and Julienne's heart desire
Chapter 44: Welcome to the underworld

Chapter 44: Welcome to the underworld

Roman stretched his fingers and let them quill around the door handle, the cool metal brushing against his skin like a silent trigger.

His fingers hesitated, curling around it tightly for a moment before he pulled it back. He gestured for Julie to get in with a silent nod.

Obediently, Julie slipped into the car, her movements smooth, delicate, almost rehearsed, and waited for him to go around and take his seat as well.

Roman gently closed the door behind her, a soft click echoing in the cool evening air, and walked around to the driver’s seat.

His gait was calm, deliberate, but there was a tension in the way his shoulders slightly rolled forward—as though he carried something heavy on his back.

"Your seat belt," he said, and Julie was quick to secure herself, a smile playing on her lips as she looked over at him.

His voice was deep but soft, a tone that always made her feel like she was listening to something private.

Roman started the engine. The purr of the car was smooth and low, almost too quiet for such a powerful vehicle.

As he pulled onto the road, the silence between them stretched only briefly before it was filled by the subtle hum of the tires and the soft rush of air.

After two minutes of driving, they finally arrived at the mansion gate—its tall iron bars etched with intricate, unfamiliar symbols that shimmered faintly under the lights.

It wasn’t just grandeur; it was a warning, a barrier that separated the normal world from something else entirely.

Everyone around the entrance was surprised when they saw their boss driving himself.

Even though rumors had already reached them that their master would be taking the wheel today, the sight was still something of a marvel.

Their postures stiffened with respect, and a few dared only quick glances.

"I want ask you something," Julie said, looking up at Roman, who kept his eyes steady on the road.

"Go ahead," he said, not sparing a glance.

"Why are they all giving you that looked when you said you will drive?" Julie asked.

Roman didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a slow, controlled breath, the kind that quieted storms before they rose.

"It has being a while with me driving. I believe that why," he answered, his tone carefully neutral, as if picking each word with the precision of someone who didn’t want to reveal too much.

"Ok. You didn’t like driving or what?" Julie asked again.

Roman hummed, not saying anything for a full minute, the road ahead stretching into trees and shadows.

"You—" he started.

"It okay," Julie interrupted herself, noticing his silence. "If you don’t want to talked about it, I won’t insist," she said, nodding her head in quiet confirmation.

"Ok," was all Roman could manage. His voice was lower now, and even quieter than before.

He didn’t want to talk about it—not now, not ever. The memories weren’t just painful; they were dangerous.

Roman watched Julie from the side of his eyes, admiring her silently, but he quickly turned his gaze back to the road when she turned around.

Julie, who had just turned around, caught his gaze but didn’t comment.

Instead, she looked at him. Her eyes traced his features—his soft, thick hair that looked like it would be silky to touch, his high forehead, the jade-like clarity of his eyes, and his nose that stood straight and defined.

Then her eyes drifted to his thin lips, and she blushed, lowering her gaze.

The memory of their earlier kiss returned, flooding her thoughts like water breaking through a shattered dam.

It was as though the sensation was still on her lips—electric, delicate, warm.

She slowly raised her eyes again and looked at him, her gaze tracing every inch of his face.

Roman, who was still driving, felt the weight of her gaze like heat on his skin, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Julie noticed the smile and returned it without even realizing, her eyes still admiring him as she studied every line down to his sharp jawline.

"You are handsome," Julie muttered without meaning to, and Roman, who heard her clearly, smiled more openly.

She quickly covered her lips with her hands, her eyes wide in embarrassment.

Before she could say anything, Roman spoke up.

"And you are beautiful beyond your imagination."

"I know I’m," Julie said, nodding her head with a playful smile, and Roman raised a brow, amused.

After some minutes, they arrived at one of Roman’s mansions.

The gate creaked open smoothly, and he drove them in.

"Let’s go," Roman said, and together they walked toward the main door of the mansion.

The air was cooler here, the shadows deeper, and the silence somehow louder.

Roman ascended the stairs. Julie, curious, said nothing but followed him closely, letting her eyes wander.

The mansion was beautiful, with rich, dark woods, velvet curtains, and ancient oil paintings—but right now, that didn’t matter.

Roman had a destination in mind, and that intrigued her more than any lavish decoration.

She tagged along behind him until he stopped at a plain-looking door tucked into a quiet corridor.

It was unassuming, slightly dusted, and looked more like a broom closet than a room of importance.

He opened the door and gestured.

Julie didn’t hesitate. She quietly walked in and waited to hear what was next.

The room was small, dimly lit by a single, antique bulb hanging from the ceiling.

The walls were stone—raw and cold, and a strange tension filled the air, like a deep pressure pushing down on the skin.

It felt like stepping into the air before a thunderstorm.

Roman stepped in behind her and closed the door, then turned the knob upwards—twisting it with intention.

"Come," Roman said, stretching his hand forward. Julie placed hers in his without question.

"Hold tight," he said and pulled her into his arms.

He hugged her tightly, and Julie returned the embrace, confused but trusting.

Then, without warning, the temperature in the room dropped.

It was subtle at first, like walking through a cloud, but quickly it became sharp—biting at the skin with a chill that crept into the bones.

The floor gave a soft lurch beneath them.

The knob Roman had turned now rotated back to its original position, sealing the room.

A low hum began—like distant machinery buried beneath the earth—and then they started descending.

The walls didn’t move, but the sensation was unmistakable: they were going down.

"Let’s go," Roman said as the door opened.

Julie turned toward the doorway, but her breath caught in her throat. Her mouth dropped open.

This wasn’t the mansion anymore.

They stepped into a wide hallway filled with sharp-suited men and women moving quickly with purpose.

The lighting was stark, clinical, and cast long shadows across the polished stone floor.

There was no warmth here, no windows, no softness. The walls were metallic and pale gray, adorned only with coded signs and security panels.

A sense of gravity hung in the air—not the kind that pulled bodies down, but the kind that pulled at the soul.

It was oppressive. Heavy. As if everyone who walked here carried secrets soaked in blood.

"Good morning brother. Have no idea you will be here today," Azazel’s voice rang out, breaking the stillness as he approached.

Julie’s eyes flitted to the door behind her—still stunned.

"Is that elevator?" she asked, turning to look at the closed door they’d just exited.

"Smart sister-in-law, yes that is the elevator in your husband’s house," Azazel said with a big smile on his face, his voice too cheerful for this grave place.

"Wait. I didn’t do the right thing first. Hmm, Azazel what’s wrong with you?" he said, slapping his own head lightly.

He straightened his shoulders and stood tall, back straight like a soldier reporting for duty.

With a smile more serious than before, he said, "Welcome to the underworld, sister-in-law."

Julie’s eyes widened, her gaze shooting up to Roman—her silent, calm escort.

"Underworld," she muttered, the word tasting foreign and strange in her mouth.

Roman, whose expression remained unreadable, nodded in confirmation.

This place wasn’t lit by chandeliers. It wasn’t a secret lab or a high-tech base out of a movie.

It was real, tangible, alive in its own strange way. The walls whispered with history.

You could almost hear screams hidden in the silence—cries that never reached the surface.

There were rooms locked by retinal scans, corridors with guards carrying weapons no civilian should have ever seen.

Even the air seemed altered—heavier, as if it resisted each breath. The weight of authority, secrecy, and danger all congealed here like fog.

Instead of taking her far away from this place—and never coming near it—Roman had brought her directly to the heart of it.

To the pit of it.

To the underworld.

Why?

Julie didn’t know.

But the question hung over her head like a storm cloud waiting to burst.