Roman and Julienne's heart desire
Chapter 50: You will be disappointed

Chapter 50: You will be disappointed

Time flew by, and Monday arrived with Roman handling the final arrangements for Julie’s transfer to another university.

Everything had been done quietly, efficiently, and with the kind of influence only Roman could exercise.

He stood outside the changing room door, lightly knocking with the back of his knuckles.

"Are you set, love?" he asked, his voice low, his tone fond.

"One minute and I’ll be out," came Julie’s voice from inside.

She stood in front of the mirror, running a final hand down her dress—an elegant black and maroon combination that stopped just above her ankles.

A tasteful slit opened slightly past her thigh, revealing just enough to hint at confidence while maintaining her usual modesty.

Her makeup was light, her eyes soft with a touch of nervousness, and her dark curls rested neatly across her shoulders.

Julie inhaled deeply. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about attending a social event with Roman, especially around his circle of friends.

The situation between them was already complicated, and the way he looked at her lately only made it more intense.

Outside, Roman waited patiently. He checked his watch—not out of irritation, but out of habit.

Today was important to him, and having Julie by his side mattered more than he was willing to admit.

The door opened, and Julie stepped out.

Roman’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes swept from her heels all the way up to her delicate collarbone, lingering just a moment longer on the way her eyes met his.

She looked beautiful.

His smile bloomed—bright, sincere, and vulnerable in a way that Roman rarely showed to anyone but her. He opened his arms wide in welcome.

Julie blinked. She knew what he wanted. A hug. A simple gesture of affection that shouldn’t feel so complicated... but it did.

She hesitated.

Roman tilted his head, his expression soft. "Come on," he said gently.

Julie’s hands clenched lightly at her sides, but she didn’t move forward.

Roman took the step for her, closing the distance between them without force, without pressure.

He wrapped his arms around her, one at her waist and the other resting gently on her upper back, pulling her into his wide chest.

Julie stood stiff for a moment. Her breath hitched.

She didn’t know what to do—not because she disliked it, but because she didn’t trust herself not to like it too much.

Roman held her without expectation, just warmth and quiet strength.

And then—slowly, hesitantly—Julie lifted her arms and wrapped them around him.

Roman stilled. His heart gave a leap, then settled into a steady rhythm of contentment.

A slow smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. She had hugged him back. Not tightly, not urgently, but gently and willingly.

It was enough.

Enough to tell him that something in her heart was starting to shift.

He leaned slightly closer, his chin hovering just above her head, and let out a breath like it had been stuck in his chest all day.

Maybe soon, he thought. Maybe soon she’ll say yes—not just to the contract, but to being mine for real.

He pulled back just enough to look down at her. "Shall we?"

Julie gave a small nod, her voice soft. "Yes. We shall."

Then she lowered her gaze, her lashes hiding the shy smile tugging at her lips.

Roman caught the blush rising on her cheeks and chuckled quietly.

"I like it when you’re shy," he whispered teasingly.

He took her hand in his and laced their fingers together, tugging her gently behind him.

Together, they descended the grand staircase of the mansion. Outside, a sleek black Audi A16 stood waiting like a loyal steed.

Roman, ever the gentleman, walked her to the passenger side and opened the door with a slight bow.

"Thank you," Julie murmured, glancing up at him before slipping inside.

Roman shut the door with a soft click, circled around, and took the driver’s seat.

The engine purred to life. As they drove, the mansion slowly disappeared behind them, swallowed by the snow-dusted landscape.

The thirty-minute drive was mostly quiet, filled with soft music and even softer thoughts.

Julie stared out the window, watching trees blur past in a winter haze, while Roman glanced at her from time to time, content just to have her near.

Finally, they pulled up in front of the upscale karaoke lounge—a sleek, modern building tucked between boutique cafes and high-end fashion stores.

Roman parked and got out first, circling again to open her door.

She stepped out gracefully, her dress catching a small breeze, and Roman offered his arm, which she accepted after the slightest pause.

They entered together.

Inside the private suite of the karaoke lounge, impatience hung thick in the air.

"When are they getting here?" Samantha huffed, tapping her heel against the polished wooden floor. Her stiletto made a sharp click-click-click, like a metronome of irritation.

The lounge was anything but modest. Dark velvet curtains lined the walls, softening the acoustics and adding a lush, moody ambiance.

A glowing chandelier hung above the central glass table, its golden light casting warm shadows across the room.

Plush L-shaped couches in shades of charcoal and deep wine cradled the group, circling around the table that was already half-littered with untouched snacks, unopened bottles, and a stack of playing cards.

One corner held a karaoke machine with wireless microphones, its neon-lit screen displaying a paused track list.

Low music played from hidden speakers, adding a gentle thrum under the hum of conversations and teasing laughter.

Lazarus sighed, slouching deeper into the couch. With a casual yawn, he stretched his arm around Samantha’s shoulder and gave her a small squeeze.

The touch had its intended effect. Samantha leaned into him, her irritation melting slightly as her head found its usual resting place on his chest.

Across from them, Simon sat with his arms crossed and a scowl forming under his clean-cut jawline.

He’d sighed ten times already and was working up to his eleventh.

"You did call Roman, right?" Simon muttered.

Lazarus didn’t even look at him. "Yeah, I called him."

"Well, good. Maybe I’ll finally have someone to talk business with, or play cards. I can’t deal with being fed all this couple-y nonsense all night." Simon rested his chin in his fist, his brows knitting.

That was all it took.

Samantha and Lazarus burst into laughter.

"HA! Hahahah~~"

Simon jerked upright, startled.

"You’ll wait for Roman," Lazarus wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes. "Let’s see how long that hope lasts."

"Why are you both laughing like maniacs?" another friend, Max, asked, stepping into the room with his girlfriend trailing behind him, holding a cup of fruit punch that looked far too cheerful for the vibe in the room.

"You’ll get your answer when he arrives," Lazarus said cryptically, giving Samantha a wink.

Max set the drink down and made a show of plopping onto the couch. "I swear if Roman walks in here with another ’model-turned-mystery-woman’, I’m calling bingo."

"Why bingo?" Simon asked, squinting.

"Because at this point it’s a pattern. Next time I’ll bring a card and check off ’insanely hot’, ’deadly quiet’, and ’probably smarter than all of us.’"

"That last one’s not hard," Samantha said, sipping her wine and eyeing Simon. "Except maybe Simon. He studies taxes for fun."

"They’re not fun. They’re foundational," Simon replied stiffly.

"Foundationally boring," Max muttered.

Another voice chimed in from the far end of the room—Dimitri, stretched out on the longest couch like a cat.

"Can we please stop talking about Roman like he’s an ancient god about to descend from Olympus?"

"He kind of is," Samantha said, propping her elbow on the back of the couch. "Except he actually shows up on time. Usually."

Simon snorted. "Then what’s this? Fashionably late or romantically delayed?"

"I bet he’s picking her outfit," Lazarus said. "Knowing Roman, it’s some subtle power move."

Samantha leaned forward, pretending to whisper but making sure the whole room could hear. "He probably picked her shoes too."

"Oh, that’s too far," Max said, eyes wide. "You can’t come between a woman and her shoes, not even Roman."

"Unless he bought them. Then it’s acceptable," Samantha said with mock solemnity.

"Acceptable? That’s marriage material," Lazarus teased, earning another sharp laugh from her.

Simon rolled his eyes. "You all have the maturity of high schoolers."

"Coming from the guy who cried when he lost one round of Uno last week?" Max fired back.

"That was strategy-related frustration, and I’ve explained that."

The banter spiraled into light jokes, half-empty threats about karaoke battles, and a few exaggerated impressions of Roman’s stoic poker face.

******

Outside the karaoke room, Roman and Julie came to a stop in front of the door.

Julie adjusted her coat and took a small breath. Her fingers were still laced in his, and he could feel the tremor in her hand.

"You okay?" he asked, leaning in just enough for only her to hear.

"I think so," she said, but her voice wavered.

Roman gently squeezed her hand. "You don’t have to be anything you’re not."

Julie looked up at him. "I just don’t want to embarrass you."

"You won’t," he said without hesitation. "You never could."

She stared at him, caught off guard by the certainty in his voice.

Roman reached for the door.