Roman and Julienne's heart desire-Chapter 182: It’s Time To Wake Up

Maxwell (Logan)

Stood in the middle of his quiet penthouse living room, yet nothing felt quiet inside him.

The air was too still, too cold, almost as if the place itself knew he wouldn’t be returning tonight.

His suitcase remained open on the couch, untouched, because he wasn’t here to pack. He was only here to remember.

A single photograph lay on his palm—the one he had kept hidden deep inside a drawer for months.

Rachel. Her head thrown back in laughter as she pushed cake at him.

His own face beside hers, eyes soft, cheeks relaxed in a smile he didn’t allow often.

A moment captured in a time when he allowed himself to believe he could have something simple... something gentle... something happy.

His thumb brushed over her frozen smile, and something warm and painful tightened inside his chest.

He had come here countless nights just to sit and remember their best days.

He exhaled slowly, letting the photograph lower to his side.

Tonight was different.

Tonight marked the end of something.

And the beginning of something else.

Maxwell slid the picture into the inner pocket of his coat, straightened himself, and turned toward the door.

His reflection in the glass beside it made him pause.

This face.

This wasn’t Maxwell’s original face—not the one the world rejected and humiliated.

This was Logan Steve’s face.

Sharp jaw, aristocratic cheekbones, eyes that held both mystery and power. The face the world feared, respected, worshipped.

A face he borrowed.

A face he used.

A face that would soon no longer be his.

His throat tightened, but he forced himself to breathe through it. Then he walked out.

The night city rushed past the car windows like streaks of silver and gold. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Maxwell leaned against the seat, watching the world blur by, feeling the old dread settling in his muscles.

No one knew where he was going. No one suspected his double life.

To everyone in the Logan mansion, he was Logan Steve—heir, fiancé, powerful young master with a dark, silent past.

But tonight, he was Maxwell again.

The tired, angry, determined man who accepted the most reckless deal of his life simply because he needed money for revenge.

He sank back into the leather seat.

’Logan Steve... today is the day you wake up. I can feel it.’ he said in his head

He didn’t know why. Perhaps the air in his chest felt heavier. Perhaps the silence around him felt too sharp.

Perhaps this entire year of pretending was finally catching up to him.

He closed his eyes, recalling the day everything changed.

The alley.

The accident.

The wealthy young man with the same face as him.

The strange request.

The desperation in Logan Steve’s eyes as blood stained the pavement.

"Take my place... just for a while... until I return."

"I need you... we are the same... you can pass as me."

"Promise me this will remain as a secret ."

Maxwell could have said no.

Could have run.

Could have left the unconscious heir on the street.

But revenge needed power.

Revenge needed wealth.

Revenge needed a roof, security, resources, and a name that opened doors.

So Maxwell had accepted.

Not out of kindness.

But because poor men do not win wars.

CENTER CITY TEACHING HOSPITAL

The moment Maxwell stepped through the glass sliding doors, the sterile smell of disinfectant hit him, sharp and cold.

The white floors gleamed under the harsh lights, and the steady echo of footsteps made the entire corridor feel like a chamber of memories.

He had walked these halls for months.

Always at night.

Always in silence.

A nurse at the reception desk lifted her eyes—and smiled the way she always did.

"Ah... you’re back, Mr. Steve. Right on time."

He simply nodded.

He could never correct them.

Not without destroying everything.

The nurse gestured toward the familiar hallway.

"He’s stable today. The doctor should be out in a minute."

Maxwell offered a polite hum and walked forward, the soles of his shoes clicking against the floor.

His heartbeat matched the rhythm—steady, controlled, but tight with something heavier than anxiety.

As he reached the end of the corridor, a door opened beside him.

"Mr. Steve," the doctor called warmly, stepping out with a chart in hand.

Maxwell turned.

The doctor, had been the one overseeing Logan Steve’s recovery since the beginning. Middle-aged, calm eyes, a face of someone who dealt with impossible cases.

He smiled softly, unaware of the truth standing right in front of him.

"I’m glad you came," Dr. said. "Something feels different today."

Maxwell’s brow lifted. "Different... how?"

The doctor tapped the chart lightly, his voice thoughtful.

"His vitals are stronger. More responsive. Almost as if he is... preparing to wake up."

A strange mixture of relief and panic surged in Maxwell’s chest.

"I see," he replied, keeping his expression perfectly still.

Dr. Morgan studied him with gentle admiration.

"You and your brother... most twins drift apart. But you come every week. Without fail. Even when you yourself look exhausted."

Maxwell’s lips twitched faintly—something like a smile, something like regret.

"I owe him," he said simply.

The doctor nodded, moved by the simple sincerity he thought he heard.

"Well, he’s lucky to have you. Shall I take you inside?"

"Yes," Maxwell breathed hitched.

As he walk into the room the steady beeping of the heart monitor greeted him first.

Then the soft hiss of the ventilator.

Then... silence. Heavy, familiar silence.

The real Logan Steve lay on the hospital bed, pale but peaceful.

His chest rose gently with each artificial breath, his eyelashes still, his hands resting on either side of his body.

Maxwell stepped closer, every muscle in his body tightening.

This man changed everything.

This man gave him the life he needed to bring down his fathers murderer.

This man unknowingly allowed Maxwell to meet Rachel the girl he fall hard for.

This man was the reason Maxwell had hope again.

He approached the bedside, lowering himself onto the chair he always used.

The plastic creaked quietly beneath him.

For a long time, he said nothing.

He only watched Logan Steve’s sleeping face, watched the man who shared his features yet came from a world he had been denied.

The smell of antiseptic stung his nose as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together.

His voice, when it finally came, was low and rough.

"This is my last visit, isn’t it?" he said in hope that he will wake up as something in him tell him so..

The stillness didn’t break. The machines continued their rhythm.

Maxwell swallowed.

"You asked me for help, but I’m the one who used you."

His thumb ran slowly across his palm, a nervous, guilty movement.

"I needed money... I needed power... I needed a chance. And you gave it to me. You told me to pretend temporarily, but I stayed longer because I had to finish what I started."

His chest tightened, memories unfolding behind his eyes like a cruel film.

Being beaten and accused.

Being left to rot while they celebrated.

Being treated like dirt because he was poor.

Now... none of them could touch him.

None dared.

He leaned closer to Logan Steve, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I won’t apologize," he admitted. "I did what I had to do. But... I am grateful. You helped me without knowing how much I needed it."

His throat thickened unexpectedly.

"And Rachel..."

His voice softened.

"She was my weakness before... she still is."

He let out a slow breath.

"I don’t know what will happen when you wake up. But I will be glad because know I have a life of my own, and it all thanks to you,"

He reached out hesitantly and placed his hand over Logan Steve’s hand—a gesture he had never done before.

It felt warm.

Human.

Alive.

"Wake up," Maxwell whispered. "It’s time."

He slowly rose to his feet, letting their hands part.

One step back.

Two steps.

His fingers brushed the door handle—

And Behind Him...

On the bed, the Logan Steve’s index finger twitched.

1. Not everyone who hurts you destroys your capacity to love.

Maxwell was wronged, betrayed, and stripped of everything he had — but he never lost the ability to love Rachel.

Pain changes us, but it doesn’t erase the softer parts of our heart unless we let it.

2. Sometimes the path you choose for survival becomes the path you must walk for destiny.

Maxwell didn’t pretend to be Logan Steve because it was noble.

He did it because he needed power to fight the injustice done to him.

Yet that desperate choice shaped his entire future.

Life often pushes us through doors we never planned to open.

3. Revenge may give victory, but it rarely gives peace.

Maxwell achieved the power he wanted, but the moment he stood beside Logan Steve’s silent body, he learned something:

Winning does not erase the wounds inside you.

You still have to face the person you are when the world goes quiet.