And then—he opened it.
As the laughter died down, the door opened again.
Roman stood just outside, pausing with a calm breath.
Then, with his usual coolness, he opened the door fully and gestured to Julie to walk in first.
She stepped inside.
The room fell utterly silent.
Every head turned.
Julie's presence had an unexpected impact—elegant and composed, she seemed almost out of place in the lively setting, like a quiet snowfall in the middle of a storm.
Her posture was graceful, her steps measured, as if she belonged somewhere far more refined than this chaotic, neon-lit room.
The maroon in her dress caught the warm lights like dark rubies, shimmering subtly with every movement.
It wasn't just her beauty—it was the way she carried herself, effortlessly poised.
Her eyes scanned the room politely, not with arrogance, but with quiet observation.
A flicker of uncertainty passed over her face, the barest hesitation, before her shoulders straightened.
