Roman and Julienne's heart desire
Chapter 46: The Mistry girl

Chapter 46: The Mistry girl

"Come you shouldn’t see this," Roman said and tug her hand but Julie didn’t move she stay they rooted.

Seeing her reaction Roman question.

"Are you sure you want to see this?" he asked, voice low but steady. "Once you do, you can’t unsee it."

Julie hesitated. Her heart was pounding. Her stomach twisted.

But then she remembered that night.

The alley.

The laughter.

The hands.

The fear that clawed through her like wildfire.

She lifted her chin and nodded. "Open it."

Roman unlocked the door. It groaned open like it hadn’t been touched in years. But inside, it was alive.

A single dim bulb swung from the ceiling, casting weak yellow light over the stone cell.

Three men sat slumped against the back wall, chained—bloody, bruised, barely conscious.

One had a swollen face. Another was missing a few teeth.

The third looked like he hadn’t slept in days, shadows deep beneath his eyes.

Julie froze in the doorway.

Her throat tightened. Her lungs forgot how to breathe.

It was them.

She knew those faces—even through the blood and grime. Their laughter still haunted her. The way they called her pretty before turning into monsters.

Her hands trembled.

One of them looked up groggily, eyes half-lidded. And for a second—just a second—recognition flickered across his battered face.

"You," he croaked.

Roman stepped forward, his presence cutting through the room like steel.

> "Careful how you speak to her," he said coldly.

The man looked away instantly.

Julie took a step forward, her boots echoing against the stone. She looked at them—not with fear now—but with quiet, terrifying calm.

"Do they know why they’re still alive?" she asked softly.

Roman’s eyes remained on her. "Because you hadn’t seen them yet."

She nodded slowly, her face unreadable.

"And now I have."

Silence stretched in the room like a blade.

Julie turned away, her voice firmer than before.

"Let them rot."

And Roman, ever her shadow, reached for the door and closed it quietly behind them.

As they walked back up the stairs, he didn’t say anything. Neither did she.

But something in her had shifted.

She wasn’t just surviving anymore.

She was starting to own the world that had once tried to break her.

*****

An hour later, the heavy doors of Roman’s mansion flung open with the force of a royal decree.

Lisa stormed in with the polished cane in one hand and her purse swinging like a wrecking ball in the other.

The guards didn’t dare stop her.

Roman, returning from the underground with Julie, had barely stepped into the hallway when he heard it:

Roman Thompson

He winced.

Julie blinked beside him. "...Should I be worried?"

He whispered without looking, "Yes. That’s Grandma Lisa. Please don’t speak."

Before Julie could step back or excuse herself, Lisa rounded the corner like a firestorm in heels and pearls.

"There you are!" she snapped, striding up to Roman with the grace of a queen and the fury of a scorned general.

Roman turned, calm and composed as always. "Good afternoon, Grandmother."

"Don’t you ’good afternoon’ me," she hissed, eyes narrowing. "Who is she?"

His brow twitched. "...Pardon?"

Lisa whipped out her phone, tapped the screen, and shoved the display toward his face.

Julie, still standing nearby but half-hidden by the corridor shadow, couldn’t see what was on the screen.

But Roman... did.

It was the photo.

The kiss.

He blinked once. Slowly. So she didn’t notice the panic flickering in his eyes.

"Who. Is. This. Girl?" Lisa said through clenched teeth, stabbing the screen with a manicured nail.

"Don’t lie to me. Don’t you dare say she’s ’someone from accounting.’ You were kissing her like she was the air you breathe!"

Roman stayed silent.

Julie’s mouth parted slightly, catching on. Wait... is she talking about me?

Lisa kept going, heat rising in every syllable. "She’s not from any allied family.

She’s not from any Mafia house. I’ve never seen her at events. And God help me, she’s not even wearing designer!"

She took a breath—dramatic, sharp. "Are you seeing someone in secret? Have you gone mad?"

Roman finally spoke, voice low. Controlled. "It’s... complicated."

"It better be," she snapped. "Because you’re out here playing Romeo behind my back with some unknown girl, while enemies are sharpening knives against our name!"

He glanced at Julie subtly, then back at Lisa.

"You’re overreacting."

"Over—OVERREACTING?" Lisa took a step back, hand to her chest.

"You kissed this mystery girl in the middle of your training room! That’s either love or a lapse of all common sense!"

Julie, cheeks burning, took a small silent step backward into the shadows.

Roman caught her movement out of the corner of his eye and gently raised a hand—his signal to stay still. Don’t speak.

Not yet.

Lisa wasn’t finished.

"You are going to tell me who she is, what her bloodline is, what school she went to, and whether she can cook. And if you don’t, I’ll find her myself."

Roman gave the faintest of smiles. "You’ve already tried. Didn’t get very far, did you?"

Lisa narrowed her eyes. "So it is serious. You admit it."

He said nothing.

She stared at him like she was decoding ancient scripture. Her voice softened just a little, but her eyes burned with suspicion.

"You’re hiding something. Or someone. But I will find out who she is, Roman. Mark my words."

And with that, she spun on her heel and stormed out—leaving Roman frozen, Julie hidden, and the whole mansion echoing with the aftermath of her rage.

As the door slammed shut behind Lisa, the mansion fell into silence.

Roman stood perfectly still in the hallway, staring at the space where his grandmother had just vanished, her heels still echoing in the marble like the final notes of a war drum.

Julie peeked out from behind the wide column she had hidden behind, her face the definition of caught-in-the-act.

Her cheeks were red, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Was that..." she started quietly, "your grandmother?"

Roman turned to her, sighed, and nodded. "The one and only."

Julie blinked. "She’s... intense."

Roman gave her a deadpan look. "That was her casual mood."

Julie pressed her lips together, fighting a laugh, but her embarrassment bubbled up in the form of a squeaky, awkward chuckle.

"Oh my God, she saw the picture," she mumbled, rubbing her face. "The kiss. She saw that kiss."

"Yes," Roman muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "She did."

Julie groaned. "And I’m the ’mystery girl’?"

"Mhm."

"But how,"

"Does she hate me?"

Roman tilted his head thoughtfully. "No. She doesn’t know you. Yet."

Julie’s eyes widened in horror.

"You,"

"I mean she knows you. Just... not as the girl I was kissing in a front of the mansion,"

Julie slumped against the column. "I want the earth to swallow me."

Roman couldn’t help the small grin that curled at his lips. He stepped closer, gently pulling her away from her hiding spot.

"Don’t take it personally," he said, brushing her hair behind her ear. "She just... wasn’t expecting it. You caught her off guard."

"I caught her off guard?" Julie scoffed. "She caught me like a deer in headlights."

"You looked adorable," Roman said, now openly amused. "Red cheeks, frozen stiff, breathing like you just got caught stealing cookies."

Julie shoved him lightly in the chest. "Don’t make fun of me!"

"I’m not. I’m completely in love with the mystery girl."

That made her pause.

Her heart stumbled in her chest. His voice was so casual, but his eyes weren’t.

They were sincere. Quiet. Protective. And maybe just a little afraid.

"You mean that?" she asked, quieter now.

Roman didn’t hesitate. "Every word."

Julie bit her lower lip, her stomach fluttering with something electric.

The tension from moments ago softened into something warm. Real.

"So," she whispered, trying to play it cool, "what now? Your grandmother’s probably sharpening knives and planning a background check."

Roman smiled faintly. "She already did one. Twice."

Julie gasped. "What?!"

"You passed. Obviously."

Julie narrowed her eyes at him. "You’re joking."

"Nope. First time she saw you on the training footage—she ran your face through her system.

Second time was when you accidentally complimented her hydrangeas. She was suspicious."

Julie groaned again. "I didn’t even know what a hydrangea was!"

Roman laughed, his head tipping back. "You made her day. She told the staff, ’At least one girl around here has taste.’"

Julie’s face flushed. "You’re the worst."

He stepped closer again, wrapping his arms around her waist. "And yet... you’re still here."

Her hands rested gently on his chest. She exhaled slowly, the heat in her face calming down, though her heart still fluttered like a bird trying to fly.

"Roman," she said softly, "are you sure? About this... about me?"

His brow furrowed, and he leaned down until their foreheads touched.

"I’ve never been more sure of anything."

Julie closed her eyes.

It was strange how safe she felt here. In the middle of chaos, with Mafia politics, dungeon secrets, and angry grandmothers roaming the halls—she felt grounded. Because Roman was there.

"What are we going to tell her?" she murmured.

"Eventually? The truth." Roman brushed his thumb across her cheek.

"But not until I’ve prepared a fireproof room and hidden all her canes."

Julie laughed, quietly and fully, resting her head against his shoulder.

"We’re ridiculous," she said.

" We are," Roman agreed. "But I wouldn’t change a thing."

A long pause stretched between them, quiet and full.

Julie tilted her head to look up at him. "So... are we pretending this never happened for now?"

Roman smirked. "Of course not."

He kissed her again—slow, soft, and deliberate.

"Let her wonder," he whispered. "Let her hunt. For now... you’re mine, and that’s all that matters."

Julie smiled against his lips.

"Then let’s give her a real mystery to solve."

They stood there for a while longer—holding each other—in the middle of chaos, with the scent of tea still lingering and the sound of drama not far behind.

But for now, it was just them.

And it was enough.