Chapter 151
KATYA POV
It had been... what, thirty minutes?
Long enough for three trays of champagne to sweep by though. Long enough for the music to shift from soft strings to sothing more upbeat.
And long enough for people to start whispering about the bride and groom taking their sweet ti.
But there was still no sign of Roo. No sign of Marina either. Nonna kept greeting people like she was the queen of this palace, and honestly... she kind of was.
I stayed behind her wheelchair, shifting my weight from foot to foot, pretending I wasn’t scanning every doorway like so crazed stalker waiting for a man who shouldn’t matter to .
I wasn’t. Just to be clear. Okay, maybe a tiny bit. But barely. Like... five percent. Maybe seven.
A hoarse voice cut through my ntal argunt. "Nonna Rosaria," a man greeted warmly.
Both Nonna and I turned—and instantly, sothing about him tugged at my mory.
He was tall, with a perfectly trimd beard and a polished suit that probably cost more than my entire street’s annual rent. But it was his bald head that struck .
Shiny. Distinct. Familiar. I’d seen that head before.
But where?
"Mr. Valerio," Nonna said with a wide smile. And just like that, the mory snapped into place.
The elevator. The very first day I saw Marina.
She had stepped out with her father. The sa bald man now smiling politely at us.
Right. That’s why he felt familiar.
Marina’s father. He bowed his head slightly toward Nonna. "You look radiant tonight."
"Ah, flattery," Nonna replied, patting her hair lightly. "Save it for the ladies your age, hm?"
Mr. Valerio laughed, and his eyes briefly flicked to . Warm. Curious. Reserved— the polite kind reserved people use on strangers they assu won’t matter.
I automatically straightened, hands sliding over the skirt of my sunflower dress for no reason other than instinct and nerves.
"And who might this be?" he asked.
Before I could fumble out sothing awkward like "I’m nobody, sir," Nonna reached back and tapped my hand.
"This is Katya," she said simply, proudly. "My sweet companion." Sothing softened in his expression.
Respect, maybe. Or just courtesy. Hard to tell. "Well, it’s a pleasure to et you, Katya," he said with a small nod.
I forced a polite smile. "It’s nice to et you too, sir." His gaze drifted toward the podium, where the ornate chairs still sat empty.
"I see the couple hasn’t arrived yet," he murmured, his tone neutral—too neutral. "They should be here soon."
Mr. Valerio had barely finished his sentence when...
FWOOOM.
The ballroom doors swung open with the kind of dramatic force usually reserved for royalty... or soone who wanted to be seen.
The music dipped, conversations faltered, and a ripple of attention rolled across the room like a wave.
Every head turned, including mine and there she was.
Marina.
Walking in alone.
And looking like she owned the entire night.
Her gown was a deep, shimring blue that matched the exact shade of her eyes. The kind of blue that made you think of oceans you’d never be rich enough to swim in.
The dress hugged her perfectly—elegant, expensive, and definitely custom-made. Jewels glittered at her neck and wrists, catching the chandelier lights like tiny captured stars.
Her hair cascaded in glossy waves, styled to effortless perfection. Her makeup was soft but striking, making her look simultaneously angelic and terrifying.
And that smile.
A dazzling, bright, practiced smile — the kind that could close deals, lt hearts, and hide entire wars underneath.
She glided forward, every step smooth and calculated, her heels tapping lightly against the marble floor like a slow countdown.
People gasped. Whispered. Straightened.
Soone actually clutched their pearls, which felt a little dramatic but honestly... I understood.
Because for a second — just a single, traitorous second — even I forgot to breathe.
She looked like a dream. No...nope, she looked like a warning.
A woman who fit perfectly in this glowing, golden world. A woman who belonged on the podium. On the throne-like chair. Next to Roo.
My stomach twisted for reasons I couldn’t explain. Or maybe didn’t want to.
Mr. Valerio exhaled softly beside us. "Ah. There she is," he murmured, a hint of pride warming his voice.
Nonna straightened slightly in her wheelchair, eyes narrowing with the kind of grandmotherly scrutiny that could slice diamonds.
I just... stood there. Rooted. Watching Marina glide through the crowd as if she had been born to walk into rooms like this.
As if the whole world existed just to turn toward her. And yet...
There was sothing strange. Sothing off. Sothing I couldn’t place.
Because even though she smiled like a star stepping out for her big reveal...
She was alone. Roo wasn’t beside her.
Why? My brain scrambled to make excuses for this.
Maybe he’s doing his own dramatic entrance? Maybe that’s how these rich-people events work. Maybe the groom shows up later, like—bam! Surprise, applause, fireworks—
Yeah. Maybe. I had no idea. I’d never been to anything remotely like this. At most, I’d imagined where people might cry because soone forgot the rings.
Marina glided closer through the crowd, her blue dress sweeping elegantly around her legs like she was floating.
And the closer she got, the tighter sothing in my chest pulled. Panic flickered up my spine.
Not because of her....Okay, maybe because of her.
Because if she was here... then Roo—
No. Nope. I forced myself to breathe, to blink properly, to unclench my fingers from the poor handle of Nonna’s wheelchair before I dented it.
I lifted my chin slightly, trying to look normal. Calm. Invisible. Or preferably all three.
My heart didn’t get the mo.
Marina’s eyes were sweeping the room, searching, asuring, smiling at the people she deed important... and gliding right over the ones she didn’t.
Which included . Obviously.
Her father straightened when she approached, his expression shifting into sothing proud and official. Like this was his mont too.
"Marina," he said warmly.
She reached them—reached us—and her smile brightened, dazzling enough to make an entire table of guests gasp.
"Papà," she greeted, kissing his cheeks gracefully. Then she turned to Nonna, dipping her head politely. "Nonna Rosaria."
Nonna responded with a nod that was... civil but not so soft. What happened with her being joyous?
Marina’s gaze slowly slid toward , like she wasn’t sure if I deserved a full second of her attention.
Her eyes flicked over my sunflower dress. My hair.
My entire existence.
Sothing sharp and unreadable passed through her expression. Gone in less than a heartbeat.
*††
Please your thoughts, thanks for the constant support, Saywhat ಥ‿ಥ
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