Chapter 129
KATYA POV
I’d been standing outside Nonna’s door for... I wasn’t even sure anymore. Thirty minutes? Maybe more.
Long enough for my legs to start aching and for the hallway lights to feel too bright. Nonna hadn’t called back in.
Not a word. Not a sound. Part of told myself she just needed ti. She’d asked for a mont, and I wanted to respect that.
But another part of was... worried. The kind that twists low in your stomach and keeps twisting even when you try to breathe past it.
I kept glancing at the closed door, waiting for it to open on its own. It didn’t.
Or at least hear my na being called but the longer I stood there, the heavier everything felt.
A few guards had walked past over the last half hour. So nodded in greeting, so completely ignored .
Their boots echoing after them against the marble like a reminder that life kept moving sowhere else.
But Mr. Antonio? I hadn’t seen him. Not even once. I know his floor is sam as nonna but he wasn’t here. Rembering that his office door is locked also I had no doubt that he would be with Roo.
He was his right hand man anyway. I leaned back against the wall, arms folded tightly across my chest.
My thoughts were louder than anything in the hallway.Gunshots.
They’d co through the phone. Sharper than anything. Roo was definitely in danger.
And for the tiniest second— the ugliest, most exhausted part of whispered.
If he’s really in danger... maybe... maybe he should just...
I swallowed hard.
I wasn’t proud of it. I wasn’t even sure I ant it. It was just—Roo made everything complicated.
Every breath near him felt like setting myself on fire. And the fire was starting to burn holes in .
"Get it together..." I muttered under my breath, rubbing my hand across my face.
I didn’t want him dead.
...Probably.
What? I want him dead. Katya get your shit together.
I wanted him dead for everything. He killed Frank. Get this info back into your head katya. Frank being an asshole the ti I t him doesn’t justify that Roo could kill him.
Even if not that at least, Aria was Frank’s twin sister and she had been the sweetest to . I should definitely avange franks death.
Directly or indirectly.
My fingers tapped nervously against my arm as the hallway stretched on in unbearable silence.
I wasn’t sure if thirty minutes was long or short when soone you cared about—even if you didn’t want to admit you cared—was alone, worrying about soone you hate, and pretending not to be.
I pushed off the wall and took one small step toward the door, ready to knock.
Click.
The door opened before I touched it.
Nonna rolled out slowly in her wheelchair, her hand steady on the wheels, her expression... calr than before, but not calm.
Not really. Her eyes were slightly puffy, even though she’d never admit she’d been crying. She stopped right in front of .
"I don’t want to stay in that room anymore," she said softly—firm, but tired. "The walls feel too small."
I straightened imdiately. "Nonna... are you okay?"
She didn’t answer. Not directly. Instead, she looked down at her lap, as if the silence inside the room had followed her out.
I stepped closer. "Maybe... maybe we can get you so breakfast?" I suggested gently. "Sothing warm. And after that, we can go out to the garden. So fresh air might help."
Nonna blinked up at , her posture loosening just a little, like she hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding herself together.
"The garden..." she echoed quietly. "Sì. That sounds nice." Relief slipped out of in a slow exhale.
"Okay," I nodded, placing a hand lightly on the back of her wheelchair. "Let’s do that. Breakfast first."
Nonna didn’t smile, but sothing in her eyes eased—sothing soft, grateful, and still deeply worried about the grandson whose voice had co through gunfire.
I turned her chair toward the elevator, guiding her gently down the hall.At least this was sothing I could do.
Sothing small. Sothing that didn’t involve gunshots or impossible choices or the confusing ss that was Roo.
Just taking care of Nonna. For now... that was enough. The elevator ride down felt longer than it should have—like every floor took its ti deciding whether it wanted to exist or not.
Nonna stayed quiet the whole way, hands folded tightly in her lap, her gaze fixed sowhere far from . I didn’t push her to talk. She wasn’t ready.
When the doors opened to the dining floor, a faint sll of warm pastries drifted out. Normally, that would make feel... comforted. Today, it barely made a dent.
I guided Nonna forward. And then it hit .
The dining hall. Miss Red. My stomach dropped to my shoes. I slowed for a second, but Nonna didn’t seem to notice.
She was too wrapped in her own thoughts, probably replaying Roo’s voice and those awful sounds in the background. I straightened my shoulders.
Okay. Okay, Katya. You’re doing this for Nonna. Not for yourself. Not for Miss Red. For Nonna.
The worst that could happen? Miss Red might throw a few mind gas at .
Or a look. Or... okay, maybe a slap if she was in a particularly dramatic mood.
Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’d survived worse. Much worse. I tightened my grip on the wheelchair handles and pushed forward again.
As we reached the entrance of the dining hall, my heart thudded a little harder. I peeked inside quickly—half expecting to see that woman seated with her legs crossed, her cold smile ready to slice through my confidence.
But the hall was... surprisingly empty.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.
Nonna noticed. "Everything all right, cara?" I forced my voice steady. "Yeah. Just... checking."
I rolled her farther in, choosing a quiet corner table where sunlight filtered in through the tall windows.
A safer spot. Sowhere Miss Red would have to cross the whole hall to reach, and I’d have ti to see her coming.
As I settled Nonna near the table, she finally looked up at —really looked. "Thank you, Katya," she whispered.
I smiled.
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