Roman and Julienne's heart desire-Chapter 189: Trapped Between Need and Dread

"Why does your face look that way? You look worried," Ava said softly, her brows knitting together as she studied Azazel’s face.

Azazel paused mid-step, then turned toward her.

A tired sigh escaped his lips as he ran a hand through his hair, the playful spark he usually carried noticeably absent.

"I pissed bro off this morning," he admitted, shaking his head.

"And now everything is coming back flying at me." He let out a short, humorless chuckle before continuing.

"Even though I know I have sis, so technically I shouldn’t bother... but I know my brother well."

He glanced away, jaw tightening slightly. "He may choose to agree to her request," Azazel added, exhaling through his nose, "but he will still find a way to punish me. That part is guaranteed."

Ava hummed thoughtfully, lips pursed as she watched him. Then she stepped closer, her voice calm and reassuring.

"Don’t worry. Just calm down. He won’t do anything serious to you," she said, lifting her hand slightly as if to soothe him. "But next time... don’t try that."

Azazel slowly turned his head toward her. One brow lifted, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"What?" he asked.

Ava blinked, clearly confused by the sudden shift in his expression. "What?" she repeated, her head tilting slightly as she studied his face.

"Whose girlfriend are you?" Azazel asked, his tone low and serious now, gaze locked onto hers as if daring her to answer.

The question caught Ava off guard. Her lips parted slightly, eyes widening for a brief second before she frowned in confusion.

"It’s obvious," she replied, tilting her head again, her brows furrowed. "Why are you asking me that?"

"Then why do I feel like you’re on his side?" Azazel asked, his voice low and edged with mock suspicion.

Before Ava could even process the question, his arm suddenly wrapped around her waist and pulled her toward him.

"Ahh!" Ava gasped, the sound slipping out as her chest collided firmly against Azazel’s hard torso.

The impact stole her breath for a second.

Her eyes widened instantly as she looked up at him, searching his face—only to find that same serious, unreadable expression staring back at her.

"Azazel, come on," she protested softly. "You pulled me too hard—it hurts."

She lifted her hand to her chest, pressing gently as her eyes fluttered shut, a small crease forming between her brows. The slight wince on her face was enough.

Azazel’s expression changed immediately.

The seriousness melted away, replaced by clear concern.

His arm loosened at once as his other hand came up instinctively, hovering near her as if afraid to touch her wrongly again.

"Hey—love," he said quickly, his tone softening. "I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would hurt you."

His fingers moved almost on their own, brushing the fabric of her blouse before carefully undoing a single button.

His movements were slow now, cautious, nothing like the bold pull from earlier.

"Let me check," he murmured. "I’m really sorry, okay?"

Ava opened her eyes.

Instead of pulling away, she raised a brow slowly—then a small, knowing smirk curved her lips.

She watched him closely, amused, curious, and completely aware of the effect she had on him.

Azazel suddenly stopped.

His fingers froze at the button, as if someone had pressed pause on him.

He swallowed and lifted his gaze, meeting her eyes with a mix of hesitation and restraint.

"You won’t stop me?" he asked quietly, searching her face.

Ava smiled—confident, warm, proud.

"I know my man," she said calmly, holding his gaze without blinking. "You won’t. You’re not that type."

For a moment, Azazel simply stared at her.

Then a small smile broke through, genuine and relieved.

"Thanks," he said softly.

"Well," Ava added, her voice gentle now, "I might be on his side sometimes..." She stepped closer, closing the small distance between them. "But most importantly, I’m on your side."

Azazel laughed under his breath, the tension finally leaving his shoulders.

He looked at her the way he always did in moments like this—like the world had narrowed down to just her.

"I love you," he said.

Ava’s smile bloomed instantly, bright and full, like a rose opening beneath warm sunlight—unmistakable, beautiful, and completely his.

In another part of the city, Rachel stepped into the room, her movements hesitant.

The space was divided into sections by thin curtains that swayed slightly with the air.

From where she stood, she could see several of them drawn tightly closed, their silhouettes barely visible behind the fabric.

Soft, muffled moans floated through the room.

Rachel’s breath hitched. Her fingers curled slowly at her sides as instinct urged her to turn away.

She lowered her gaze at once when shadows shifted behind one of the curtains—blurred figures moving together, bodies pressed close, movements unmistakable even without clear detail.

Her heart began to pound violently against her ribs.

The realization struck her all at once, heavy and undeniable. This wasn’t just a bar. This wasn’t just a private lounge.

This was a place where choices were made quickly—and rarely without consequences.

Rachel swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. She forced herself to breathe evenly, even as her chest tightened painfully.

The sounds, the shadows, the closeness of it all made her skin prickle with unease.

This is it, she thought.

The weight of her decision settled heavily on her chest, pressing down until it almost hurt.

Fear whispered at the edges of her mind, but she pushed it back.

Turning around now wouldn’t change anything—not the empty house waiting for her, not her mother’s tired eyes, not the hunger she was trying so desperately to outrun.

Rachel straightened her shoulders.

While Rachel stood there, struggling to steady her breathing, the heavy weight in her chest refused to ease.

Her fingers curled slowly at her sides, nails digging into her palms as she tried to ground herself.

From the corner of her eye, movement caught her attention.

One of the curtains was suddenly pulled aside.

Rachel stiffened.

A man stepped out, his lips stretching into a slow, unpleasant smirk the moment he saw her.

His eyes roamed shamelessly from the crown of her head down to her toes, lingering far longer than necessary.

He was thickset, his round belly pushing against his shirt as if he were three months pregnant, his age obvious—somewhere in his forties, maybe older.

The smell of alcohol clung to him faintly.

He licked his lips.

"Wow... what a beauty," he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Before Rachel could fully register who had spoken—or even react—strong arms suddenly wrapped around her, pulling her sharply against someone else’s body.

Her breath left her in a startled gasp.

At the same time, another curtain from a nearby corner was drawn back.

A pair of sharp eyes narrowed instantly when they landed on her, watching the scene unfold with silent interest.

"Let go of me," Rachel said, her voice weak but strained, barely rising over the man’s voice. "What is wrong with you?"

The man chuckled, tightening his grip as if her resistance amused him.

"Aren’t you here to entertain?" he asked casually. "I’m a client too. That means you should entertain me, right?" His breath brushed against her skin as he leaned closer. "Just tell me how much you want to be paid."

He didn’t give her time to respond.

His face dropped toward the crook of her neck.

Rachel flinched violently, panic flooding her veins. She shoved him with both hands, forcing him back a step.

Even though she was here for a reason—despite knowing she needed the money—her body rejected him instantly.

Something inside her screamed no, loud and uncontrollable.

She didn’t know why.

She just knew she couldn’t let this man touch her. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"God... help me," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Only then did she realize she’d spoken aloud.

The man pulled back slowly, staring at her for a second before bursting into loud laughter right in her face.

"God should help you?" he mocked.

"Stop acting like a virgin. No virgin comes to a place like this." His eyes hardened. "And besides—who do you even have to help you, huh?"

Rachel’s nose stung, her eyes burning as humiliation and fear mixed together.

She turned her face slightly to the side, refusing to look at him directly.

"How much are you willing to pay?" she asked quietly, forcing the words out as his grip remained firm, unyielding.

A satisfied grin spread across his face.

"Finally," he said. "Now you’re acting the way you should."

Disgust twisted in Rachel’s stomach. She stared at the wall beside him, focusing on anything that wasn’t his face.

"One million," she said suddenly—the number slipping out before she could stop herself.

The man’s eyes widened in disbelief.

"One million?" he scoffed. "Who would pay that much for someone like you? An unvirgin?" He laughed cruelly. "What do you think you are?"

He leaned closer again, his voice dripping with mockery.

"A virgin I’d have to take responsibility for?"

"Then how much will you pay?" Rachel asked, her voice hollow, still refusing to meet his eyes.

"One hundred thousand yuan," he replied flatly, studying her face as if daring her to argue.

All the while, just outside the curtain, another man stood silently—listening to every word, his presence unseen but very much aware.

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