Chapter 169
KATYA POV
I stood there long after Marina left, staring at the bags like they might move on their own if I waited long enough.
They were everywhere. Sprawled across the floor, piled against chairs, leaning against the walls like silent sentries.
Hard leather trunks with brass corners. Bulky garnt bags stuffed until the zippers strained. Cases so large they looked like they belonged on cargo planes, not staircases.
My back pulsed with a slow, relentless ache, like a warning drumbeat. Every breath pulled at the bandages beneath my uniform.
I swallowed and forced my shoulders to stay straight. Behind , Gina clicked her tongue.
"She said top floor," she reminded lightly, almost cheerfully. "And if you don’t already know where the Donna’s room is, I’ll lead you."
The words slid under my skin. If you don’t already know.
There was sothing there—sothing deliberate—but my mind was too fogged, too exhausted to untangle it.
I didn’t ask. I didn’t react. I just stared at the bags. Which one do I even start with?
They all looked heavy. Too heavy. I rembered seeing these bags arrive at the house before. I rembered how the staff handled them.
Minimum two maids per trunk. Sotis three if it was full. Soone guiding, soone lifting, soone steadying.
Now it was just . One body. One injured back. One set of trembling hands.
My fingers curled slowly at my sides as the reality settled in. She didn’t expect to succeed.
She expected to break. "Don’t tell you’re thinking of refusing," Gina said, her voice sharp now. "That wouldn’t be wise."
I bent down just slightly to test the nearest trunk. Pain flared imdiately, hot and blinding, stealing the air from my lungs.
I hissed at the pain, knuckles whitening as I gripped the handle, my vision swimming. I hadn’t even lifted it yet.
My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. Slowly, carefully, I straightened again, blinking through the sting in my eyes. I couldn’t let her see. I wouldn’t.
I looked at the bag again. Just one, I told myself. One at a ti. The staircase lood in my mind like a mountain.
Top floor. No elevator. I swallowed, then reached for the handle again. This ti with both hands, bracing myself, setting my feet the way I’d seen the others do.
My arms shook as I pulled.The trunk barely moved. A soft laugh ca from behind .
Gina leaned against the doorfra, arms crossed, watching like this was entertainnt. "You know," she said casually, "the Donna doesn’t like delays."
I didn’t answer. I dragged the trunk, it scraped an inch across the floor, the sound loud in the quiet room.
My breath ca out in a broken hiss, sweat imdiately prickling along my spine. My vision blurred but I didn’t stop.
Because stopping ant more pain. Pain and suffering that those two witches are eagerly waiting to give.
I pulled again. And again.Each movent felt like it was tearing sothing loose inside , but I kept going, inch by inch, dragging Marina’s life behind like a punishnt.
Gina finally straightened. "When you’re ready," she said sweetly, "we’ll head upstairs."
She paused, then added softly, almost kindly. "You’re really going to love her room." My hands tightened around the handle.
I didn’t look back. I didn’t ask what she ant. The trunk scraped over the threshold with a jolt that sent a sharp bolt of pain straight up my spine.
I bit down hard on my lip, tasting salt and iron, refusing to make a sound as I dragged it past the doorway.
The hallway beyond felt endless, My eyes flickering instinctively to the elevator at the far end.
Its doors were closed, polished, silent. What I wouldn’t give to use it right now.
Just one ride. Just one rcy. But Marina’s voice echoed in my head—Don’t use the elevator.
And Gina was still behind . Watching. Waiting... Waiting for any small thing to give the beating of my lifem
I turned away from it and pulled the trunk toward the stairs instead. Each step felt heavier than the last.
The wheels didn’t roll properly on the carpet, so the weight fought , jerking against my arms like it wanted to stay exactly where it was.
By the ti I reached the stairwell, my breathing was ragged, uneven. My legs trembled as I tipped the trunk forward, guiding it down the first step.
The impact sent pain screaming through my back.I gasped, gripping the railing with one hand, the trunk handle with the other, forcing myself to keep going.
Down one step. Then another. My shoulders burned. My arms shook so badly I was afraid I’d lose my grip and send the trunk crashing back into .
Halfway down, I passed two guards stationed by the wall. Their boots were polished. Their uniforms pristine.
They didn’t look at .Not even once.
I might as well have been part of the furniture—another burden being dragged through the house.
Invisible. Replaceable.The thought hurt more than the strain.
By the ti I reached the bottom of the stairs, my back felt... wrong. Too hot.A damp sensation spread beneath the bandages, slow and unmistakable.
Wetness.Panic fluttered weakly in my chest, but I shoved it down. I couldn’t stop now. Stopping would only make it worse.
I adjusted my grip and started up the next flight.The trunk thudded against each step, the sound echoing too loudly in the stairwell.
My vision blurred at the edges, sweat dripping down my temples, soaking into my hair. With every pull, the bandages pulled tighter, sharper.
Sothing tore.
Just a little.
Enough to send a fresh wave of heat down my spine. I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached, forcing my legs to move when they begged to buckle.
One step.
Another.
Another.
Top floor.
I didn’t know how many steps were left. I didn’t know how much more my body could take. All I knew was that if I stopped, I might not be able to start again.
So I dragged the trunk upward, breath by broken breath, pain by pain—hauling Marina’s world behind while mine slowly ca apart.
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Im so bad at Chapter titles ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ
Please manage this Chapter, my flu is coming again. So sorry guys about this Chapter. I will try making the others better
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