Chapter 182
KATYA POV
"She’s heartless, no... no, I didn’t an that," I stamred, the words tripping over each other in my haste to take them back.
My heart felt like it was going to burst. I looked up at Nonna, searching her face for the shadow of a scold, "I shouldn’t have said that. She’s your family now. She’s... she’s the one he chose. She’s going to be the Donna. I’m sorry, Nonna. Please don’t hate . Please don’t think I’m—"
I choked on the word. Ungrateful. Crazy. A murderer. I was terrified that by speaking the truth about Marina, I had finally severed the only thread of kindness I had left in this house.
Nonna loved Roo. Roo was marrying Marina. In the twisted math of this world, that ant Marina was protected, and I was the blaspher.
"I’m just a shadow," I whispered, my forehead dropping toward the floor. "Shadows don’t have opinions. I didn’t an to call her that. She’s just... she’s doing what she thinks is right for her house."
But the lie tasted like ash. My mind flashed back to that room, the way Marina had stood over , the way she had ordered Gina to "discipline" , the sheer, icy pleasure in her eyes when she saw bleeding.
She was heartless. She was a monster wrapped in designer silk, but I couldn’t say that. Not to the woman whose grandson was putting a ring on that monster’s finger.
"Katya," Nonna said, her voice like a soft velvet blanket over the jagged edges of my panic.
"I swear, I didn’t an to hurt Gina," I cried out, the "dark place" in my mind fighting to stay hidden.
"Sothing just... it just went black. One minute she was pulling my hair, and the next... the vase... I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted the pain to stop."
I didn’t tell her that for a split second, seeing Gina’s blood had felt like justice. I didn’t tell her that the "switch" inside hadn’t just been fear.
It had been a dormant, lethal rage that terrified more than Roo ever could. ’ I’m so sorry. So, So sorry." I waited for her to pull away. I waited for her to tell that I had gone too far, that I was no longer welco in her light
I just wanted soone—anyone—to be on my side for a mont. Even if it was a lie. Even if it was just because I was a broken thing she felt sorry for.
Nonna leaned forward as much as her chair would allow, reaching out and placing a hand on top of my bandaged head.
Her touch was warm, steadying the chaotic vibrations in my skull. "Look at , child," she commanded softly. I lifted my head, my eyes blurry with tears.
"You did not choose to be in this war," Nonna said, her eyes piercing through my excuses.
"And as for Marina... do not lie to to protect my grandson’s pride. I have lived in this house longer than he has been alive. I know the difference between a Queen and a vulture."
My breath hitched.
"You are not crazy, Katya," she continued, her thumb tracing the edge of the bandage on my temple.
"You are pushed. And when a person is pushed far enough into a corner, they either die or they bite. I am only glad you chose to bite." I leaned my head into her hand, a sob finally breaking free.
The weight of Nonna’s words—the validation that I wasn’t the monster I feared I was—finally shattered the last of my defenses.
The dam didn’t just leak; it burst. A jagged, ugly sob tore from my throat. I didn’t care about how I might look, wrapped in bandages. I was just a girl who had been hollowed out until there was nothing left but a scream.
"Shhh, piccola," Nonna whispered, her voice a low, lodic hum against the storm in my head.
"Cry. Let it all out. Let the salt wash away the blood." I didn’t need to be told twice. I leaned forward, my forehead coming to rest on her lap.
The tears ca in a flood, hot and stinging, soaking into the expensive wool of her skirt. I cried for the girl in the yellow dress who had died in the hallway.
I cried for the father who had taught that love was just another word for a bruise. I cried for the shadow I had beco, and for the jagged piece of porcelain that felt more like a part of than my own na.
Nonna’s hand remained on my head, her fingers stroking the hair that hadn’t been matted with blood.
She didn’t try to stop . She didn’t tell to be strong. She just let be broken. "I’m so tired," I gasped between sobs, the words muffled against her knees. "I’m so tired of being afraid. I’m so tired of the fire in my back. I’m so tired of everything."
"I know," she murmured. "I know, tesoro." I stayed there for God knows how long, my body shaking with the force of my grief.
In the silence of Roo’s room, the only sound was the wet, rhythmic hitching of my breath and the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.
Slowly, the violent tremors began to subside, leaving hollow and lightheaded. The adrenaline that had kept upright was gone, replaced by a crushing, soul-deep exhaustion.
My back throbbed in ti with the ache in my skull, "Why don’t you lay down back on the bed?" I nodded wordlessly, having no strength as I lay on the bed without care.
"Better?" Nonna asked softly after a long ti.
I didn’t have the strength to speak. I just gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod, my eyes already closing.
As long as nonna was here with , not looking at like a killer. I could sleep without thee fear of being hated.
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rry Christmas
Please a gift to , your dearest author 😉😩
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