Chapter 107: Denovan’s visit
"Well, my greetings to my sister-in-law," Azazel said, his voice oozing with mischief as he prepared to continue his endless blabbering.
The teasing lilt in his tone made it clear he was enjoying himself far too much.
But Roman wasn’t in the mood.
"Azazel," Roman growled, a low, warning rumble that instantly cut through his brother’s playful tone. "Tell me the important thing."
Azazel chuckled softly, unbothered, always daring to test his older brother’s patience. "Bro, what I’m saying now is also important, isn’t—"
"Do you remember that sports car you wanted to buy earlier?" Roman’s voice sliced through Azazel’s words, calm but laced with sharpness.
He leaned back against the headboard, his tone dripping with mock thoughtfulness.
"It’s already on its way to the mansion you’re in right now. But I think—" he paused deliberately, as if savoring the effect, "—I should ask the driver to turn around and take it back to the company. Right?"
There was a brief silence on the line, and then Azazel’s exaggerated gasp echoed through the speaker.
"Ahh! No, no, brother! Please, bro, I seriously want it, brother. I lo—"
"Cut it, Azazel," Roman interjected smoothly, his tone firm and unyielding. "Tell me the important thing."
His voice rose slightly, a flicker of frustration peeking through, but he quickly restrained himself, lowering it back to a quiet, dangerous calm.
He turned his head slowly, his sharp eyes drifting toward the sleeping figure beside him.
Julie lay curled beneath the soft sheets, her face serene and untouched by the morning light filtering through the sheer curtains.
Roman’s gaze softened. Seeing her breathing evenly, unaware of the brewing tension, he exhaled quietly, his body relaxing just a fraction.
Azazel seemed to finally understand the gravity in his brother’s tone. "Well, brother... Grandpa is back," Azazel said, his playful tone now laced with underlying seriousness.
"And Lisa already told him everything about you and sis."
Roman’s fingers stilled, gripping the phone tighter as his jaw tensed.
His eyes narrowed slightly, the news stirring something sharp and calculating within him.
"Thank you," he murmured, the words clipped and precise. "But are they coming here?"
On the other end of the call, Azazel shook his head as if Roman could see him through the phone.
"That’s actually why I called you," he said, his voice casual but tinged with uncertainty.
"I have no idea whether they’re coming or not, so you better be ready. Even though I know you always a—"
Azazel’s words were abruptly cut off by the beep of a call disconnecting.
Roman had already hung up.
He didn’t need further words. He’d heard what mattered.
A soft sigh left his lips as he gently placed the phone on the bedside table, careful not to make any sudden movements that might disturb Julie’s sleep.
The phone clicked softly against the wood, but Julie remained still, her face nestled into the pillow, her hair cascading over her cheek like a soft curtain.
For a long moment, Roman just stood there, gazing at her. The world outside could wait.
He climbed back into bed with practiced grace, the mattress dipping under his weight as he shifted closer to her.
The air in the room was still, the only sound was the faint hum of the air conditioning blending with her soft, rhythmic breaths.
Roman didn’t hesitate. His arms moved around her, encasing her gently yet securely.
He pulled her closer, molding her frame into his, as if to shield her from the outside world. Her warmth seeped into him, grounding him.
His chin brushed lightly against the crown of her head as he closed his eyes, breathing in the faint, soothing scent of her shampoo — a subtle mix of lavender and something uniquely hers.
In that moment, the conversation with Azazel, the impending presence of their grandfather, and all the chaos that might follow—it all faded into the background.
Right now, all that mattered was her.
Since it was the weekend, Roman hadn’t bothered to get up for his usual morning exercise.
The routine could wait. The weight of responsibility could wait. Even the Thompson name could wait.
This—her—couldn’t.
He pressed a soft kiss against her hairline, his lips lingering there longer than necessary, savoring the simplicity of the act.
The tension that had built up in his shoulders slowly ebbed away as he felt her stir slightly, instinctively nestling deeper into his embrace.
A faint smile played at the corner of his lips. She didn’t even realize how tightly he held her, how his presence wrapped around her like a shield.
Roman’s thumb traced lazy, feather-light circles on her back, each movement deliberate, like a silent vow that as long as he breathed, no one—not even family—would touch her without going through him first.
The morning light continued to stretch across the room, casting soft, golden hues that painted their tangled forms in an intimate glow.
His thoughts flickered back to Azazel’s words. Grandpa is back.
Lisa had probably already given the old man the full account of Roman’s "secret" marriage. It didn’t surprise him. It was only a matter of time before they faced it.
But unlike before, Roman felt no urgency to move. Let them come. Let them knock on his door.
He would be ready. But for now, his priority was right here in his arms, breathing peacefully against him.
His grip tightened slightly, protectively, as his lips brushed her temple once again.
"I’m ready," Roman whispered into the silence, a promise meant only for her ears, even though she was deep in sleep.
No one was going to take this peace away from them—not today.
The mansion was unusually quiet that morning. Even the staff seemed to sense that disturbing Roman would be a mistake.
The air was thick with a strange calm, as if the house itself was holding its breath.
Roman was still in bed, his arms securely wrapped around Julie when his phone vibrated silently on the nightstand. He ignored it. The world could wait.
But the sharp, repetitive buzz of the doorbell moments later—three deliberate rings, each one more persistent than the last—was impossible to dismiss.
Roman’s eyes flickered open, cold and sharp.
They were here.
Julie stirred slightly in his arms, a soft murmur escaping her lips.
Roman pressed a soothing kiss to her forehead. "Sleep, Julienne," he whispered, gently untangling himself from her warmth.
He rose from the bed in a fluid motion, grabbing a simple black T-shirt and pulling it over his head as he strode across the room.
His bare feet padded silently against the marble floor, but his presence was anything but quiet.
His very aura seemed to thicken, becoming heavier with each step he took toward the front door.
The doorbell rang again, this time longer.
Roman’s hand gripped the brass handle, and without the slightest hesitation, he pulled it open.
There they stood.
Donovan Thompson.
And Lisa—Grand Lisa.
Donovan’s towering frame filled the entrance, his arms crossed, lips curled into that familiar half-smirk that never revealed too much.
His silver-streaked hair was combed back, but his sharp, calculating eyes were very much alive, scanning Roman up and down.
Lisa, on the other hand, looked entirely different.
Her smile was radiant, as if she was arriving for an afternoon tea rather than an unexpected confrontation.
She leaned slightly into Donovan, her hand resting on his forearm like a queen making her entrance.
"Oh, my, Roman... you don’t even bother to greet your grandparents properly anymore?" Lisa teased, stepping forward with elegance only she could command.
"Grandpa. Lisa." Roman’s voice was calm, collected. His gaze, however, was as sharp as ever. "What brings you here so early?"
Donovan chuckled, a deep, gravelly sound that resonated through the hall.
"What, a man needs a reason to visit his own grandson? Since when?"
Lisa’s eyes glinted as she tilted her head. "You didn’t expect us to sit quietly after hearing everything, did you?"
Roman stepped aside wordlessly, holding the door open for them. "You’re already here. Come in."
As they entered, the atmosphere subtly shifted.
Donovan’s steps were slow but deliberate, as if he was measuring the very air of the mansion.
Lisa’s eyes were far more curious, glancing around the house with an approving nod as if inspecting her son’s taste.
Denovan was the first to break the quiet. "I see Julie is not with you. Hiding her, are you?" she teased, but Roman caught the undercurrent of his intent.
"She’s sleeping. I have no intention of waking her up for anyone." His words were soft, but there was iron beneath.
Donovan raised an eyebrow, amused. "Protective, aren’t you? Good. You’ll need that when the rest of the family starts knocking."
Roman’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Let them."
Lisa and Donovan exchanged a glance. The boy was exactly as they expected—unyielding, calm, and dangerously prepared.
"So..." Lisa began, easing herself onto the living room sofa like she owned the place.
"Tell me, Roman. When were you planning to inform the rest of the family about this marriage of yours? Or were you going to wait until they found out through the tabloids?"
Roman didn’t sit. He stood tall, his presence looming yet composed. "Lisa, if I remember correctly, you were the one who figured it out before anyone else. And now you’re here. So you know."
Donovan laughed, shaking his head. "He’s got your tongue, Lisa."
Lisa’s lips curled. "Indeed, he does. But you know, Roman, you can’t keep shielding Julie from the family forever. Sooner or later, she’ll need to face them. You’re strong—but the family, they bite."
"She’s not alone," Roman said firmly. "She has me. And whether the family bites or not, they’ll break their teeth on her if they try."
Donovan’s expression shifted, just slightly. A flash of pride masked by the usual sternness.
"Good. That’s what I wanted to hear. But we didn’t come to argue with you, Roman. We came to see her. Both us want to meet the girl especially me." Denovan said pointing at himself.
Roman’s stance didn’t soften. His instincts screamed to protect Julie from any sudden confrontation, but Lisa’s next words disarmed him.
"I won’t wake her up. Not today," Lisa said, smiling softly. "Let her rest. A woman deserves her peace, especially after what she’s been through. We’ll have our tea and wait."
Roman’s gaze narrowed slightly, calculating, but he gave a small nod. He knew Lisa well enough to recognize when she was serious. This was not a trap. Not today.
"Then tea it is," Roman murmured, signaling one of the housekeepers to prepare it.
Donovan settled himself into a chair, crossing his legs, his gaze sharp yet approving. "You’ve grown into quite the man, Roman. Let’s see how well you protect what’s yours when the real test comes."
Roman’s lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile.
"I always pass my tests, Grandpa."