Roman and Julienne's heart desire -
Chapter 81: Are you pursuing another man
Chapter 81: Are you pursuing another man
"What are you smiling over?" Roman asked, his voice casual but tinted with curiosity.
He had been watching Julie from across the room, observing how her lips curved upward and her eyes danced with unspoken amusement the moment she picked up her phone.
Julie glanced up, a soft laugh escaping her. "Oh, I was chatting with Ava."
But instead of keeping her attention on the screen, she gently set the phone down on the side table and turned to face him completely.
Her eyes were soft, warm—an invitation to closeness.
"Sorry I left you alone while I chatted with my friend," she said sincerely. "Hope you don’t mind."
Roman smiled, but his eyes held something deeper—a quiet complaint masked by charm.
"I don’t mind... but lately," he said as he rose from the couch, "you’ve been forgetting about me. You spend more time with Ava than with me."
His words weren’t sharp, but they lingered like an affectionate grumble.
He walked over to her and, instead of simply sitting beside her, he gently lowered himself onto her lap, laying his full weight across the cushions and turning on his side to look up at her.
His head rested against her thighs, and his arms folded loosely across his chest.
It was an unspoken plea to be coddled, to be spoiled—by her.
"I feel like you’re pursuing another man and forgetting about me," he said with a deep pout, his lips sticking out just slightly.
Julie blinked at him, taken aback by the sight of his boyish sulk. Her wide eyes softened instantly, and then—
"Pfft... hahaha!" she burst into laughter, unable to hold it in.
Her laughter rang out loud and full, her shoulders trembling as she looked down at the man lying dramatically across her lap, pouting like a child denied his candy.
Her hand instinctively moved to cover her mouth, but it didn’t help.
"I’m pursuing another man?" she giggled through her words. "Really?"
Roman raised an eyebrow, silently daring her to keep mocking him.
Shaking her head with amusement, Julie smiled down at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling.
"Don’t worry... I’m not pursuing anyone. And I would never bring someone to compete with you. You know why?"
Roman tilted his head slightly in mock confusion. "Why?"
"Well, even if someone were to compete with you..." she drawled, dragging out the suspense, "before they could even try—or before you could try—believe me..."
Her hand began to travel gently toward his hair, fingers brushing against the soft dark strands.
She let the silence stretch for a heartbeat, just to tease him.
"...you would have already won," she finished with a warm smile.
Roman’s eyes widened slightly the moment he felt her fingers slide through his hair.
The surprise flickered across his face, and then his lids fluttered closed. free.w e bn.ov(e)l(.)com
He let out a soft breath, lips parting slightly in a sigh of contentment.
Julie, delighted by the reaction, watched him carefully.
The way his body stilled under her touch, how the tension drained from his shoulders, and how a peaceful smile found its way to his lips—it was almost poetic.
Her fingers threaded gently through his black locks, twisting, smoothing, then lightly squeezing, never pulling.
Her motions were slow, almost rhythmic, like a lullaby in motion.
She could feel the warmth of him against her lap, the way he relaxed entirely under her touch, and it filled her chest with something warm and indescribable.
’So he likes it,’ she thought happily, and the joy showed clearly on her face.
Roman’s lips curved up slightly as he basked in the moment. "Hmm... Julie, this is nice," he murmured, his voice like velvet, soft and indulgent.
Julie giggled softly. "I noticed."
She kept her strokes steady, letting the moment stretch into silence. She wasn’t in a hurry to speak, nor was he.
There was something sacred in this stillness—an unspoken exchange between two people whose walls had quietly fallen.
Roman’s brows lifted faintly, then lowered again. His breathing slowed.
Then, like a whisper not meant to be heard aloud, he spoke.
"Is this... how love feels?"
Julie blinked, eyes drawn to his face. He hadn’t meant to say it aloud—his tone made that clear. But the words had escaped him, raw and wondering.
"If that’s a question," Julie replied softly, "then I don’t know the answer... because I only started knowing what it feels like to be loved after meeting you."
Roman’s eyes snapped open.
He looked up at her, stunned into silence by her response. But then slowly—almost shyly—a smile bloomed across his face.
It was the kind of smile that could steal the air from the room, soft and consuming.
His eyes, dark and deep, seemed to ripple like the surface of a tranquil sea.
"Yes, it was a question," he said, his voice low but sure. "And I like your answer."
Their eyes stayed locked, the world around them temporarily forgotten.
Her hand was still in his hair, and he hadn’t moved.
It was as if neither of them wanted to break the spell.
But reality had other plans.
From the couch across the room, Roman’s phone rang, shattering the serenity of the moment.
Roman’s jaw clenched slightly. "Who is that?" he muttered, visibly annoyed as his head lifted off her lap and the warmth between them was interrupted.
Julie chuckled. "Pick the call," she said, withdrawing her hand from his hair and stretching lightly.
Roman turned to her with narrowed eyes, lips tugging down. "I’ll pick it... but I’m still sad. They ruined our moment."
Julie gave a soft ’hmm’ in response, nodding. "We’ll still have time... someday."
Roman lingered for a second longer, then stood up with a sigh. "I’ll be in the study," he said, running his hand through his hair—the same hair she had just been touching.
His fingers paused for a moment as if reliving the sensation.
Then he gave her one last look before disappearing behind the study door, closing it quietly behind him.
Moments later—
Tok toh.
Julie’s phone chimed.
She reached for it.
"This girl," Julie muttered with a smile, seeing Ava’s name pop up again with a string of playful messages.
Her lips lifted in a bright, amused smile as she began typing a reply.
But in the study—everything was different.
Roman stood before his desk, phone pressed to his ear, his expression hardened into something cold and calculating.
The man who had just smiled and melted under Julie’s touch was gone, replaced by a figure of quiet command.
"Sir, Mr. Jenkins and the company are stabilizing. Their stock has stopped dropping," the voice reported.
Roman’s face remained unreadable, his fingers drumming once against the desk before stilling.
"So... Mr. Jenkins is trying his best," he said flatly, but his lips curled on one side, forming a smirk that did not reach his eyes.
"Well, let him try harder."
He leaned forward slightly.
"In a month, I want them to fall apart. Slowly. I want the company to hit rock bottom—then collapse."
There was a short pause. The person on the other end hesitated.
"You word is my order, sir. But... what about the other girl?"
Roman’s eyes glinted darkly. He straightened his back, voice dipping lower—more dangerous.
"Well, something is awaiting her," he said coolly.
The man on the line gave a nervous chuckle, but Roman’s own laugh followed—low, smooth, but laced with malice.
It wasn’t the kind of laughter that came from amusement, but from a predator savoring the moment before the strike.
"Goodbye, sir."
Roman gave a nod, even though no one could see it. "Keep me updated."
The line went dead.
He stared at the blank screen of his phone for a moment, then placed it gently on the desk, his face carved in quiet fury.
"Mr. Jenkins... You touched a soul you shouldn’t have touched," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "And you will pay for that mistake."
He adjusted his sleeves and turned toward the door, each step calm and purposeful.
The mask of warmth he wore in front of Julie was nowhere to be seen. This was another side of him—cold, sharp, and relentless.
Meanwhile, in a room not far away—
"Cassandra... I tell you, this girl will push us down the road one day," Lewis said urgently, pacing the room with restless energy.
His wife, Cassandra, who had been seated before the mirror applying cream to her neck, turned to look at him.
Her expression was a mix of irritation and curiosity.
"What happened now?" she asked, turning more fully to face him, seeing the panic lining his features.
But Lewis could barely form the words. His chest rose and fell with growing worry.
The ripple that began with Julie was now building toward a wave—and something told him, deep in his bones, that when it crashed, it would take more than just their reputation with it.
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