CHAPTER 126: I GUESS... I WANNA LEARN FROM MY PARENTS

Before Abigail could say something further, Roman’s patience snapped. His hand, firm and unyielding, pushed her away.

The movement wasn’t violent, but it was sharp—enough to create a ripple through the crowd gathered around the stage.

Gasps rose, whispers followed, and Abigail staggered back with widened eyes, her painted lips parting in disbelief.

But Roman’s expression gave her nothing to hold onto—no anger, no tenderness, no regret. His face was carved in stone, a mask of cold blackness, shielding every trace of his emotions.

Without sparing her another glance, he descended the steps of the dancing stage, his tall frame moving with a kind of commanding finality.

Julie had been watching, her heart thrumming like a trapped bird. She didn’t understand everything that had just passed between them, but she could feel the weight of it pressing on Roman’s shoulders.

When she saw him leaving, something inside her stirred restlessly. She couldn’t just stand there.

The man she had been paired with during the exchange dance blinked in surprise as Julie abruptly pulled her hand away.

"I’m sorry," she murmured with a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes, bowing politely before slipping through the shifting crowd.

Some people turned their heads, following her with curious gazes. A murmur rose—wondering what had happened, why Roman had left so suddenly, and why the young woman trailed after him so urgently.

Julie’s steps were quick but graceful, weaving through silk gowns and sharp tuxedos until she caught up with him in the golden-lit hallway just beyond the ballroom.

"Is everything alright?" she asked softly, breathless not from the chase but from the storm of worry swelling in her chest. Her eyes searched his face, hoping for a crack in that mask.

Roman halted. For a heartbeat, silence stretched between them, the distant sound of music and laughter spilling faintly from the ballroom doors.

Then he turned his head slightly, enough for her to catch the curve of a smile tugging at his lips.

It wasn’t a full smile, not the kind that revealed his soul, but it was enough to soothe her nerves. He nodded once, as though steadying both of them.

"Yeah," his deep voice carried the steadiness she needed to hear. "Everything is alright."

Julie tilted her head, unconvinced but unwilling to push him in front of so many eyes.

She drew closer, the delicate folds of her gown brushing against his side as she asked gently, "Shall we?"

Roman’s gaze softened as he looked at her—truly looked, as if her presence alone had the power to anchor him.

He inclined his head toward the door, the faintest glimmer of warmth replacing the storm that had threatened to consume him moments earlier. "Shall we," he echoed, his voice gentler this time.

Relief blossomed on Julie’s lips as she smiled. Without hesitation, she nestled her head lightly against his arm, the movement tender and natural, as though she belonged there.

The contact steadied him, and together, with quiet dignity, they walked toward the grand doors leading away from the chaos behind them.

Every step drew curious stares, whispers trailing in their wake, but neither of them cared.

In that moment, all that mattered was the unspoken comfort between them—her trust in him, and his silent vow to protect her from the ghosts of his past.

"Ehm," Julie hummed softly, her voice almost lost in the hum of the ballroom behind them.

Together, she and Roman walked side by side out of the grand door, the cool night air instantly brushing against their skin as if to welcome them into a quieter world.

Julie rested her head lightly on his arm from the side, a small smile pulling at her lips. She didn’t ask him anything further, because even in his silence she felt the heaviness he carried.

Roman’s arm shifted slightly, drawing her closer, protective yet calm.

Back in the hall, murmurs stirred like waves.

"Where did Julie and Roman go to?" Samantha tilted her head curiously, watching the door swing shut after them. The sparkle in her eyes carried more curiosity than concern.

"They went back home," Lazarus replied simply, his gaze fixed on the same door.

His tone was unreadable, though the faint crease on his brow showed he had noticed something unusual in Roman’s sudden departure.

"I thought we would all be leaving together... that was unexpected," Samantha murmured, her lower lip pushing into a pout as she looked up at his face.

Her fingers toyed absentmindedly with the hem of her dress as if trying to distract herself from the small ache of disappointment.

Lazarus gave her a sidelong glance. "I think we should also leave then," Samantha said abruptly, puffing out her cheeks in that way she did when trying to appear serious.

"You don’t want to stay here?" Lazarus asked, his brow raising slightly.

Samantha shook her head vigorously, her curls bouncing with the motion. "Nope," she answered quickly, her pout deepening as if she were about to sulk.

The reaction made Lazarus pause. "Weren’t you the one who was eager to be here?" he asked slowly, studying her expression.

He remembered how excited she had been when he first mentioned attending the event.

The way her eyes had lit up, her hands clapping together like a child receiving candy.

"Yes, I was," Samantha admitted without hesitation, her voice softening for a moment.

Then in one quick breath, she blurted, "But that was all because of Julie—you know, you should take me sometime to Roman’s house, else you won’t understand me anymore!"

The words tumbled out so fast that for a moment, Lazarus blinked at her, speechless.

They were no longer swaying with the music; the lively melody faded into background noise as he simply stared at her, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

"Of course, I have to," Lazarus finally replied dryly, his tone carrying the faintest edge of sarcasm. His eyes, however, softened as they lingered on her. "I’m no longer understanding you anymore."

Samantha lifted her chin stubbornly, though the corners of her lips curved as if she were trying not to laugh.

The lights of the chandeliers above cast a gentle glow over her, highlighting the playful fire in her eyes.

For Lazarus, the moment stretched—her words might have been ridiculous, but the way she looked in that instant was disarming. Beautiful. Baffling. Entirely Samantha.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as if surrendering to her antics. "You’re impossible," he muttered, though the ghost of a smile betrayed him.

Samantha only grinned, pleased with herself. "And you like me that way," she teased, her voice dancing like the music that carried on without them.

Lazarus shook his head, his disbelief softening into something warmer as he looked at the woman before him, caught between exasperation and admiration

"Now shall we?" Samantha asked again, tilting her head slightly with that familiar mischievous glint in her eyes.

Lazarus gave a small nod, his lips twitching into a restrained smile. Without saying much more, he reached out, placing a light but firm hand on her back, guiding her away from the crowd of dancers.

Together they made their way across the room, weaving between chatting aristocrats and laughing guests until they reached Mr. Bellanti, who stood not far away from the edge of the dancing stage, his posture relaxed yet commanding.

"You will be leaving already?" Mr. Bellanti asked, his voice smooth but tinged with curiosity.

His gaze lingered on Lazarus, studying his expression as if trying to decipher something beneath his calm demeanor.

"Yes, we will," Lazarus replied politely, bowing his head a little. "Roman asked me to inform you about his leaving."

Mr. Bellanti let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head in mock frustration. "That man... this is the third time he’s attended one of my parties, and each time he refuses to stay until the end. Hah." His laughter carried a hint of resignation.

Samantha stepped closer, her eyes bright with both amusement and pride as she spoke up.

"My boyfriend is such a man that doesn’t mingle with people often. If I’m sure you know him well, then of course you’d understand."

Her tone was playful yet protective, and Lazarus, standing beside her, could only glance at her sideways in disbelief at her boldness. Mr. Bellanti, however, chuckled deeply, the sound rolling out like waves. "Well said," he admitted, nodding.

"Thank you for the night, Mr. Bellanti," Samantha added warmly, her lips curving into a polite smile that softened her entire face.

Mr. Bellanti returned the expression, his own eyes crinkling. "No, no, it’s I who should be thanking you. I looked forward to seeing you and Queen Julie tonight. In fact, your presence graced my party with beauty. You should know, I’m the lucky one."

Samantha giggled softly, covering her mouth with her hand before answering, "Okay, since you say so."

Lazarus, who was eager not to remain at the party for another second, quickly tightened his hold on her hand.

He bowed slightly toward Mr. Bellanti, then pulled Samantha gently but firmly away. They excused themselves without looking back.

As soon as they stepped out into the cool night air, the atmosphere shifted.

The muffled music and chatter from inside faded behind them, replaced by the faint hum of the city and the crisp scent of evening dew.

Samantha let out a long exhale, as though she had been holding her breath the entire evening.

The puff of warm air left her lips in a visible cloud against the night, her shoulders dropping in relief.

Meanwhile, across town, Roman and Julie were already in the car, driving straight back home.

The vehicle hummed quietly along the road, but inside, silence pressed heavy between them.

Julie sat with her hands clasped on her lap, sneaking glances at Roman’s profile.

His jaw was set, eyes fixed straight ahead, his aura sharp and chilling like ice spreading across a frozen lake. She didn’t dare to disturb him.

Her lips parted slightly, hesitant, then closed again. Finally, in a soft, almost sing-song tone, she ventured, "I guess... I wanna learn from my parents."

The words came out light, like a feather drifting in the air, but they were meant to ease the atmosphere.

Since they had left the party, Roman hadn’t spoken a single word. His silence was heavier than stone, and Julie could feel it pressing down on her chest.

He seemed lost in thought, trapped in some deep, consuming trance that she longed to pull him out of.

Her eyes softened, searching his face, hoping he’d glance at her, just once.