Chapter 116
KATYA’S POV.
Ti skip — about 1–2 hour’s later
Nonna was freshly bathed, dressed in one of her soft pastel sweaters, her hair brushed back neatly as always.
She looked brighter, more awake, more herself. And she’d refused—completely refused—to eat in her room.
"Eating alone in that room makes feel like a ghost," she’d said. "I want to see the house alive."
So here we were.
I had my hands on the handles of her wheelchair, guiding her down the quiet hallway toward the elevator.
Her blanket was tucked neatly around her legs, and she humd softly under her breath—so old Italian tune she always humd when she was in a good mood.
Honestly... seeing her like this made everything inside soften.
"You don’t have to push all the way there," she said for the third ti, even though she wasn’t fighting at all.
"And you don’t have to pretend you’re heavy," I murmured back. She laughed. "I’m not pretending. I am heavy."
"You’re not," I said, trying not to smile as I steered her around the corner. "Mr. Salvatore is heavier" I muttered under my breath but she heard .
"You compared to him?" she asked.
"No!" I quickly answered in fear thinking I said sothing offensive but she looked back at m with a soft smile before shaking her head.
"Mia cara, you don’t have to be uptight with "
I sighed through a smile and kept pushing her toward the elevator that would take us up to the third floor — the dining hall, apparently where she insisted on eating today.
"Tesoro," she called gently, glancing back at , "Don’t be scared around ."
"I’m okay," I said. And surprisingly... I ant it. Being with her made everything else fade into the background.
We reached the elevator doors. I pressed the button, waiting for the soft chi. Sowhere above us... Roo was still in his eting.
Sowhere above us... that girl with perfect hair might still be there.
But right here, in this hallway, pushing Nonna toward the dining hall? My chest felt less tight.
The elevator doors slid open and my breath stuttered.
It was her. The girl from earlier. The one with the perfect hair, the perfect posture, the perfect everything.
She stood alone inside the elevator, her hands clasped loosely in front of her, her expression relaxed like she owned whatever room she stepped into.
Her eyes lifted the mont she saw us. For so reason, I felt myself straighten... then imdiately regret straightening, because why was I trying to look presentable?
I wasn’t eting a celebrity— if I even know them. She was just a girl. A very, very beautiful girl who looked like she’d waltz straight into any part of this world without having to ask permission.
Nonna smiled politely and so did I... tried not to scream internally.
"Oh," the girl said, her gaze flicking down to the wheelchair, then to again — slow, delicate, polite on the surface... but with the tiniest curve of her mouth that hinted at superiority.
Her voice was soft and confident, the kind of voice that moved like velvet across the air.
Great. Even her voice was perfect. Of course.
She stepped to the side gracefully, but the move wasn’t ant to make space. It was ant to make feel like I was the one intruding.
I swallowed, moving inside quickly. "Thank you." I pushed Nonna’s wheelchair forward, trying not to stare too hard... but also failing not to stare at all.
Up close, she looked even more unreal — glowing skin, long lashes, features so balanced that I wondered if the universe had favorites.
And sohow, she didn’t look arrogant about it. She just existed, and effortlessly.
Nonna gave a look — one she always gave when she sensed my mood spiral — but she stayed quiet, letting compose myself.
As soon as we were fully inside, the girl pressed the "3" button for the dining hall floor before I could reach for it.
"Oh—um, you didn’t have to..." I murmured.
"Huh?," She looked at like I was speaking dirt. "Umm, umm I ant you didn’t.." then I rembered that she doesn’t even know where we are headed to and this is an elevator.
I shifted awkwardly, hands resting lightly on Nonna’s wheelchair handles as the elevator doors slid shut.
The soft hum of the machinery filled the small space, and suddenly, the elevator felt too quiet. Too bright. Too reflective.
I could see my embarrassed self in the stainless steel walls — ssy bun, oversized sweater and jeans.
And then I saw her reflection.
Perfect. Poised. Pulled together.
I looked away imdiately.
Nonna glanced up at from her seat — she didn’t need words to know what I was thinking. Her hand brushed my wrist gently, a silent anchor.
The girl seed completely unbothered by my awkwardness. She wasn’t that seriously rude. She wasn’t judging. She was just... existing comfortably in her own skin.
Sothing I had no clue how to do.
Then, out of nowhere, she spoke,"You’re Roo’s assistant, right?"
My heart jumped into my throat.
Nonna’s head turned slightly, curious.
"Yes," I managed to say. "I—I help him."
Her smile brightened. Weirdly kind. "That must be hard work. He seems like a very demanding person."
I blinked. Wow. She wasn’t wrong.
"And who might you be?" Nonna asked, her voice gentle but steady, the kind that carried authority without ever needing to raise itself.
The girl turned her head slightly, offering Nonna a pleasant smile — brighter than the one she’d given . "Oh. I’m Marina." Her voice dipped with pride, like the na should ring bells.
When neither Nonna nor I reacted, her smile wavered for half a second before she added, "Marina Valerio.."
Nonna nodded politely. "It is lovely to et you, Marina but why are you here?"
Marina’s eyes flickered back to — a quick, assessing sweep. "I’m here with my father. He’s in a eting with Roo." Then, like it was the most casual thing ever, she tucked a strand of perfect hair behind her ear.
"We’ve known the Salvatores since... well, forever." Oh.
Well... that explained a lot.
No wonder she walked around with that kind of confidence like every hallway in this mansion had been built with her initials carved into the foundation.
Like she belonged here, and the rest of us were just passing through. Nonna humd. "Ah. Old friends, then."
"Yes," Marina said, tilting her chin slightly. "Very old."
But Nonna didn’t seem to recognize the Valerio na. And Marina didn’t seem to realize that Nonna didn’t know her.
Or... were they both pretending?
I focused on the glowing floor numbers above the doorway, willing the elevator to move faster.
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