Chapter 153
KATYA POV
Roo didn’t co.
He literally did not show up at all to his own engagent party.
Not fashionably late. Not dramatically delayed. Not even slipping in quietly at the last minute.
He didn’t co.
The party dragged on for three whole hours—three exhausting, glittering, painfully stretched hours—because Nonna kept asking the organizers to extend it.
Once. Then again. And again. Each ti with that sa calm authority, like ti itself would eventually bend out of respect for her will.
The music changed more than ten.The champagne ran low, then was replaced.
The laughter grew louder... and thinner.
And still, the podium stayed empty. The throne-chairs remained untouched, looming over the ballroom like a question no one wanted to ask out loud.
Guests smiled, danced, mingled—but the energy had shifted into sothing strained, sothing brittle.
Every conversation felt like it was circling the sa unspoken thing.
Where is Roo?
I stood behind Nonna the entire ti, my hands never leaving the wheelchair handles. By the second hour, even she could no longer hide it completely.
Her fingers had gone still—not tapping anymore—which sohow felt worse. Her spine stayed straight, chin lifted, dignity intact... but waiting had settled into her bones.
Marina stayed standing. The entire night.
She smiled until it had to hurt. She laughed when spoken to. She posed for pictures, accepted congratulations, kissed cheeks, shook hands. She played the role perfectly except for one thing.
She never once went near the podium.By the third hour, people had started to leave in clusters. Quiet goodbyes. Polite excuses.
Glances that slid toward Nonna first, then away again. Marina’s father disappeared sowhere into the crowd, his expression no longer relaxed, his smiles shorter.
And Marina...
Her blue dress was still flawless. Her makeup still perfect. But there was sothing desperate now in the way she moved like she was holding herself together through sheer will alone.
When the music finally softened into its last song and the organizers approached Nonna with careful voices and nervous eyes, I already knew.
It was over. Nonna nodded once. Just once.
The lights dimd. The staff began their quiet, efficient dismantling of a celebration that had never truly happened.
Three hours of waiting. For a man who never ca. As we were wheeled away from the ballroom, I looked back one last ti at the empty podium.
At the chairs no one had dared to sit on.
__
The ride upstairs was silent. Not the awkward kind. Not the kind where you scramble for words just to fill the space.
This was a heavy silence. One that sat between us like a third presence. The elevator doors closed softly, and as it began its slow ascent to the second floor.
I beca painfully aware of every tiny sound—the faint hum of the cables, the muted click of the floor numbers lighting up, the whisper of fabric when Nonna adjusted her shawl.
She didn’t speak. She didn’t sigh. She didn’t ask for anything. Her hands rested neatly in her lap, fingers folded together, knuckles pale but steady.
Her face was composed, almost serene, but I’d spent enough ti with her to know better.
I guided her down the familiar hallway, the carpets muffling our movent, the house unusually quiet now that the guests were gone.
No laughter. No music. Just the echo of a night that had failed to land where it was supposed to. When we reached her room, I pushed the door open gently and wheeled her inside.
The lamps were already on, casting a warm, soft glow across the space, against dark wood, embroidered cushions arranged just so.
Everything looked exactly as it always did. Like nothing had happened. I helped position her beside the vanity, locking the wheelchair in place before stepping back.
"Nonna," I said carefully, keeping my voice light. "do you need help taking off your jewelry? Or... your makeup?"
I hesitated, then added, quieter, "Or—if you just want to rest, I can—"
I was already preparing myself for the dismissal. For the gentle wave of her hand. For the go on now, child. For the reminder that this was not my place.
I turned slightly, ready to give her space, ready to retreat back into invisibility.
"Stay."
The word stopped cold. I blinked. Slowly turned back to her. "Stay?" Nonna tired eyes t mine in the mirror.
"Yes," she said softly.
I nodded imdiately. "Okay. I’ll stay."
I stepped closer to the vanity, helping her with her accessories, starting with her earrings, unclasping them slowly, placing them in the velvet boxes near , one by one.
Nonna watched herself in the mirror as I worked. "Three hours," she said suddenly, her voice quiet but steady.
"Yes," I replied just as softly. She exhaled through her nose. A sound that wasn’t quite a sigh. "Why? A Don does not miss his own engagent, do they?."
I didn’t respond. There was nothing I could say that wouldn’t sound wrong.
I removed her necklace next, laying it down gently. "Why would be fix a date ft sothing so important not to show up?" Nonna continued. "And he embarrassed this family."
Her eyes flicked to mine in the mirror. " Do you think he doesn’t want this?"
I paused, eting her gaze. "Umm, I don’t know but if he doesn’t want this why would he start it in the first place."
Nonna looked away from the mirror this ti, toward the window, guilt flashing her face. She went quiet for a long mont.
So quiet that I thought maybe she wouldn’t answer at all.
"To be fair," she spoke softly but not to . Not really. Her voice was softer than I’d ever heard it, "I was the one who spoke to him about settling down. About love. About children."
Her fingers tightened slightly in her lap. "I told him a man cannot rule forever alone. That a family anchors power. That love—real love—makes a man human."
She let out a small, humorless breath. "Perhaps I was foolish to think that boy would hear the love part."
I glanced at her reflection. Her face wasn’t angry. It was... disappointed. In herself more than him.
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And 5 honest reviews for the new book equals one bonus update for this book.
Thanks.
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Just so y’all know, this was made today 5 January 2026, so it’s yeah, thanks
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