Chapter 188
KATYA POV
Five days.
That was how long it had been since I’d last seen Roo Salvatore—or at least, since I’d last been sure he was real.
Miss Stella clicked her tongue for what had to be the tenth ti that morning. "Katya," she said patiently, "you are not supposed to be standing for this long."
"I’m fine," I replied, even as I leaned my hip against the counter for balance. "I promise."
She didn’t look convinced. She never did. The kitchen slled warm and alive—fresh bread, herbs, sothing simring gently on the stove.
Sunlight poured in through the tall windows, turning the marble counters gold. It felt like a place ant for living, not hiding.
And that was exactly why I was here.I needed sothing to do.
Five days of resting. Five days of careful steps, asured breaths, bandages checked and rechecked. Five days of being watched like I might shatter if soone blinked too hard.
Two days ago, they’d moved out of Roo’s room. Back into my old one.
The Donna’s room.
I still paused every ti I crossed its threshold. Still scanned the corners. Still half-expected Marina to step out of the shadows with that smile that never reached her eyes.
She never did. But my body hadn’t learned that yet. "Nonna will not be happy if she finds you here, again."
Miss Stella warned, handing a small bowl of chopped vegetables anyway—betraying herself.
I smiled faintly. "You handed the knife."
She sighed. "Because if I don’t, you’ll find one yourself."
She wasn’t wrong. I worked slowly, carefully, my thoughts drifted—uninvited—back to him.
Roo.
Five days. No footsteps in the hallway. No presence looming in doorways. No cedarwood scent curling through the air.
Nothing.
Sotis I wondered if that night had been nothing more than a fever dream. Pain and exhaustion blurring into sothing my mind invented to cope.
Because n like him didn’t look at girls like with worry in their eyes. They didn’t touch bandages gently.
They didn’t retreat like they were the ones afraid. I swallowed, focusing on the rhythm of the knife against the board.
Slice. Thud. Slice. Thud. It was a simple, mindless task, a world away from the complicated, terrifying reality of the Salvatore family.
But then, the swinging doors of the kitchen creaked open. I didn’t even have to look up to feel the shift in the atmosphere.
The light footsteps were familiar, but the energy behind them was sothing else. I lifted my gaze, and the vegetable knife nearly slipped from my fingers.
Lila. She stood just inside the doorway, another maid hovering behind her like a nervous shadow.
It felt like a lifeti since I’d seen her. In my mory, Lila was always the girl standing three inches behind Gina, giggling at her insults, too timid to start the fire but more than happy to fan the flas.
But the girl standing there now wasn’t timid.
Her eyes were bloodshot, the whites of them stained pink from what looked like hours of weeping.
Her gaze stopped my breath, literally. It wasn’t the shallow, an-spirited flicker of a bully anymore.
She looked at like I was a virus. Like I was the very thing that had poisoned her world. "Lila," Miss Stella said, her voice dropping into a warning tone.
She stepped slightly in front of , a subtle movent of protection that I didn’t miss. "You’re late for your shift. Get the linens from the pantry and go."
Lila didn’t move. Her hands were clenched into such tight fists that her knuckles were white. "Is it true?" she rasped, her voice cracking. "Is she really back staying in that room? The Donna’s room?"
I swallowed hard, my heart beginning to thud painfully against my ribs. I wanted to look away, to hide behind the marble counter, but my pride—the tiny, flickering piece of it that had survived—kept my chin up.
"Lila, that is enough," Miss Stella snapped. "She’s a monster!" Lila’s voice suddenly rose. She took a step forward, ignoring Miss Stella’s glare.
"Look at her! Sitting there, eating our food, living in a palace, while Gina..." She choked on the na, a fresh tear tracking through the salt-stain on her cheek.
"Gina might never see the light again! She can’t even speak! She just lays there, staring at the basent ceiling because of what you did!"
The knife clattered onto the board. Gina.
I knew I had hit her with the vase. I knew there had been blood.
But I hadn’t known the extent of it or the fact that she’s still alive and in the basent?
The "dark place" in my mind, the one that had been satisfied by the sound of the glass breaking, suddenly felt very cold.
"I didn’t an to..." I started, my voice barely a whisper.
"You lie!" Lila shrieked. "You enjoyed it! We all saw the way you looked at her. You think because the Don has a soft spot for a broken stray that you’re one of them? You’re still a servant, Katya! You’re still the daughter of our enemy and you’ll always be a killer!"
"Lila! Out! Now!" Miss Stella’s voice was like a whip. She grabbed Lila by the arm, her face a mask of iron.
"You will not bring this filth into my kitchen. If you have a grievance, you take it to the steward. But if you speak to her like that again, you’ll find yourself in the holes before sunset."
Lila didn’t fight Stella’s grip, but she kept her eyes locked on mine as she was shoved toward the door. "He’ll get bored of you," she spat "And when he does, there won’t be anyone left to stop us. Not even Nonna."
The doors swung shut, the sound echoing like a slap. The kitchen was silent again, but the warmth was gone.
I looked down at the vegetables I had been chopping. They looked pathetic. I looked at my hands—the hands that had held a jagged shard of porcelain—and they were shaking so hard I had to grip the edge of the counter.
Miss Stella turned back to , her expression softening into deep concern. "Don’t listen to her, Katya. She’s grieving for a friend who was a bully. She doesn’t see the truth."
"Is it true?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Is Gina... is she really that bad? Why is she in the basent not the infirmary?" Miss Stella was clearly taken aback with the question as she hesitated, and that was all the answer I needed.
She sighed, stepping closer and placing a hand on my shoulder. "She is alive. That is more than she deserved after what she tried to do to you. Now, sit down. Your face is as white as the flour."
I sat, but I didn’t feel good anymore. Lila’s hate felt more honest than Nonna’s kindness. It reminded of who I really was in this house.
A stray. A killer. An enemy.
And as the fear began to coil in my stomach again, I wondered if Roo had retreated for five days not because he was worried, but because he was finally realizing exactly what kind of monster he had brought into his bed.
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I’m getting writers block lol
You guys should give suggestions for the book
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