Chapter 160
KATYA POV
The sunlight was an insult. It stread through the heavy drapes of my window, harsh and cold, hitting my face and forcing awake.
The room was no longer dark, silent, and safe, it was morning, and the world had moved on, pretending last night never happened.
I blinked, my eyelids gritty, disoriented for a mont. I wasn’t tucked into my nightshirt. I was still wearing the sunflower sundress, now crumpled and stiff.
I hadn’t changed. I hadn’t even made it under the covers. I must have fallen onto the mattress the mont I locked the door, letting the exhaustion of the night win out.
I had slept away the fear, the pain, the sha.
But the mont consciousness returned, the mories rushed back like a slap to the face.
My cheek throbbed—a dull, unmistakable ache. I reached up, my fingers finding the tender skin where Marina had struck .
My arm burned faintly where she had gripped sa as my scalp. The frantic plea for Roo to believe her lies.
The house was quiet now. Normal. I sat up, pushing the crumpled sundress down. I was dirty.
Sticky with dried sweat and the mory of that brutal contact. I needed a shower, looking at the clock on the bedside table. 07:05 AM.
Roo would be awake. Nonna would be awake. The maid’s would be making noise about the failed engagent party.
The crisis was no longer contained in the dark; it was now a professional disaster being addressed in the light.
I walked to the dresser, my movents stiff and slow. The room was painted a stark white everywhere—walls, carpet, heavy furniture—the exact opposite of Roo’s space across the hall, which was all black marble and dark wood.
It was my cage, disguised as a sanctuary.
I forced myself into the ensuite bathroom, locking the door behind .
Stripped off the ruined sundress and practically threw myself under the hottest water I could stand.
The steam was thick, helping to hide from the world, if only for five minutes. I scrubbed my skin until it felt raw, trying to wash away the mory of Marina’s touch, Marina’s perfu, the terrifying weight of her body.
Ten minutes later, I was dressed, brushing my wet hair quickly, not bothering with my appearance.
I looked pale, exhausted, and the swelling on my cheekbone was a visible bruise. I looked at the clock again. 07:20 AM.
It was ti to face Nonna, ti to start the morning routine, ti to pretend I hadn’t been assaulted by the future Donna of the family.
I was crossing the room, heading for the door, forcing myself into a semblance of control, when.... BANG. BANG. BANG!
The noise was deafening. It wasn’t a knock. It was a violent, shocking assault on the wood, making the entire fra shudder in the white wall.
I froze mid-step, my heart shooting up into my throat. The controlled morning silence of the house shattered.
Oh my God. He’s here. My breath hitched. My mind instantly fractured into a thousand terrified scenarios.
It was either Marina, back for final, desperate revenge, or Roo, coming to execute the sentence.
He had witnessed my pathetic fear. He had witnessed his fiancée’s humiliation. In their world, I had crossed a sacred boundary simply by being a witness.
He was finally here to give my death for disrespecting his ’fiancée.’ I stumbled back, my feet catching on the edge of the carpet, sending sprawling backward onto the mattress.
I scrambled up, crawling toward the headboard, instinctively trying to put distance between myself and the door.
BANG! The final blow was harder, more demanding.
"Katya!" The voice cut through the wood, echoing in the sterile white room. It was not Marina’s high, brittle shriek. And it wasn’t the flat, lethal baritone of Roo.
It was a female voice but I couldn’t register who. My terror didn’t lessen, but it changed form.
BANG! Another more demanding and harder blow was launched on the door as the voice ca again, impatient, laced with contempt.
"Open up, Katya! Stop wasting ti! Donna wants to see you!" Donna? Not Nonna. Donna!
The word hung in the air. We don’t have any Donna but soone who is the future Donna might as well just make herself the Donna and the only person is marina.
But why would this supposed Donna want to see . Unless she’s about to finish what she had started yesterday.
My heart flipped, I couldn’t hide in this room forever sooner rather than later Marina would find a way to kill .
So slowly I stood, my knees shaking, forcing myself toward the door, opening it and I was t with Gina.
When the fuck, couldn’t my day get anymore worse? She couldn’t have sent anyone, any freaking body apart from Gina who hated with the quiet, simring jealousy of soone trapped in her station watching a re companion live in forced luxury.
I twisted the handle to anchor as Gina stood in my front. Her expression was pure, undisguised distaste.
She was dressed in the severe black and white uniform, usually pristine, but her shoulders looked tense, her eyes darting nervously down the empty hallway before landing on .
Her gaze swept over , lingering on my pale face and the visible bruise on my cheek. She took her ti, a slow, malicious look that started at my bare feet and climbed up my simple sweater.
She didn’t hide the contempt. "Look at you," she hissed, her voice low but sharp, confirming the hatred. "You finally decided to wake up, did you? Donna’s been waiting."
"Why—" I don’t know where I got the confidence but I managed my dry voice. Maybe it’s the fact that I have accepted that marina was definitely having my head before breakfast is even served.
"I don’t get paid to ask," Gina cut off, rolling her eyes with so much annoyance. "Just get moving. And try not to waste my ti."
She didn’t wait for to respond. She turned sharply, starting down the hall toward the main staircase, forcing to follow.
She didn’t offer a hand or guidance; she treated like a stray animal she was required to herd.
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