Chapter 132
KATYA POV
Nonna wasn’t done. Her voice didn’t soften either. It cracked open into sothing raw and terrible and painfully honest.
"You think I will watch it happen again?" she demanded, her hand shaking as she pointed at him.
"You think I will sit here and wait for soone, Maybe Antonio again to tell ....to tell ...to" Her voice broke, and she pressed her fist to her mouth before the words escaped.
"To tell you are gone the sa way your father disappeared from ?" Roo’s inhale was sharp—barely there, but I heard it.
Everyone did. He stood frozen in front of her, the swagger gone, the arrogance gone... everything peeled away until he looked like nothing more than a boy caught between guilt-rage and the ghosts that raised him.
"Nonna..." his voice dropped.
"No," she whispered fiercely. "No, you listen to ." Her trembling hand lifted again—not to hit him this ti, but to cup his cheek, gentle where she had been harsh only seconds ago.
"I buried my son without answers," she said, each word shaking like it weighed more than she could carry.
"I buried him not knowing what really happened. Not knowing if he was scared. He suffered so much,so so much. You expect to go through that again?"
Roo’s jaw tightened, breath uneven, and for once, he had no clever coback and no smirk.
"I won’t lose you," she whispered. "I won’t. Not you too." Roo closed his eyes, briefly, like her words hit sothing deep and personal—sothing he never lets anyone see.
Around us, the courtyard was so quiet I swear even the wind refused to breathe.
"I ca back, didn’t I?" he said finally, his voice hoarse. "I’m here."
"For how long?" she fired back, eyes flashing. "Until the next ti? Until Another...another fight? Another call in the middle of the night that drags you into danger I cannot even imagine?"
Roo’s lips pressed together—stubborn, but not cruel. Defensive, but not dismissive.
He opened his mouth to answer, but Nonna cut him off before he could shape a single word.
"I am old, Roo. I do not have ti for your recklessness. For your secrets. For these... these missions you run to like they are gas."
Nonna’s words trembled in the air, still sharp, still cutting, but softer now—like each sentence hurt her as much as it hurt him.
But Roo... Roo wasn’t taking it quietly anymore.
His jaw worked, tight and angry. His hands curled and uncurled at his sides, stained fists flexing like he was holding himself back from exploding.
Finally, he let out a humorless laugh. A dangerous one.
"Oh, so now you’re blaming for living the life you lived too?" he said, voice low but shaking with barely controlled emotion.
Nonna’s eyes snapped up, shocked. The guards subtly straightened. Antonio subtly cursed under his breath.
They seed to forget we still outside the mansion. Literally standing at the entrance displaying drama.
"You think I want this?" Roo stepped back, then forward again like his body didn’t know which direction belonged to anger.
"You talk like I chose this world. Like I woke up at eight years old and said, ’Hey, you know what sounds great? Danger.’"
"Roo—"
"No!" he cut her off, louder than before. "Don’t act like you don’t know what it’s like. You of all people, Nonna—you lived this life first. Before my father. Before any of us."
Nonna froze. Her eyes filling with tears. "You built this family," Roo went on, chest rising and falling fast.
"You kept everything together. You taught everyone exactly how to survive. You made the rules!" She flinched—not visibly, but in that tiny way older people do when a truth they hate gets spoken aloud.
"And now," he said, voice cracking with frustration, "you’re standing here making it sound like I’m out running around because it’s fun? Because I like it?"
"Roo—"
"I was born into this!" His voice hit the marble walls like thunder. "You know that. You know how hard it is to leave anything that’s in your blood. That’s in your na."
Nonna’s eyes glistened again, but anger still sparked underneath. "Dont turn this around. You of all people know your father tried to leave, at least he tried but you...you," she tried speaking but that was it.
That was the mont Roo snapped.
He stepped forward so fast I jumped.
Even Nonna startled, though she didn’t back away.
Roo’s voice wasn’t loud this ti.
It was raw, razor-sharp. Strained to the point of breaking.
"I’m not him."
Silence slamd the entire courtyard flat.
Roo stood over her—breathing hard, eyes burning with sothing so intense it didn’t even look like anger anymore. It looked like pain wearing anger’s face.
"I’m not him," he repeated, each word torn out of him. "Stop comparing to a man who couldn’t protect himself. Stop acting like his choices are mine."
Nonna’s breath caught. "My father was weak," Roo said, trembling slightly. "And being weak is what got him killed. Don’t put his mistakes on ."
Roo wasn’t done. "I’m not him," he said again, softer now but far more heartbreaking. "I don’t get to live the life he wanted. I don’t get to leave. I don’t get to pretend I’m normal. I’m doing what I have to do to keep everyone alive."
His voice cracked at the end, just barely. "And I don’t have ti arguing about shit in front of our courtyard."
Nonna’s eyes broke. Tears spilled quietly at first, then all at once. Her hand flew to her lips as if she could trap the sound inside her chest, but it trembled too hard.
A small, choked sob escaped anyway. I’d never seen her cry this hard. Not like this. Not like soone whose heart had cracked twice in the sa lifeti.
When she had told that story she looked so broken but now? She looked as if she was done with life.
For a second, I forgot how to breathe. I took a hesitant step toward her,—instinct more than courage— I needed to comfort him.
My heart was bleeding at her wrecking form but I froze when Roo suddenly moved. He dropped to his knees at her feet.
Not slow. Not gentle. It was like sothing inside him collapsed, and the ground was the only place left to hold him up.
†††
Well well well
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