Chapter 244
KATYA POV
My heart slamd so hard against my ribs it felt like it might crack them open. The room tilted, shrinking to that single point where her gaze t mine.
She looked terrified. Not defiant. Not cruel. Not sharp-tongued and sure like she’d been in the kitchen.
Terrified.
I sucked in a breath that burned all the way down. "Li...." My voice caught imdiately, strangled before it could form anything useful.
"Madonna santa," Nonna breathed, wheeling in front of without hesitation, her chair placing itself squarely between and Lila like instinct had taken over where thought couldn’t. "Who did this?"
No one answered.
The door stayed open, the hallway beyond it eerily empty, like the house itself had stepped back to watch.
Lila shifted weakly, a low sound slipping from her throat as she tried to push herself up. Her hand raised brushed my leg, fingers trembling.
I flinched again, sharper this ti, my back pressing into the headboard. "I didn’t—" she croaked, her voice hoarse, broken. Looking deep into her open mouth I saw no tongue.
The sound she made after that wasn’t a word. It couldn’t be. It ca out as a wet, broken breath, more vibration than voice, her mouth working desperately around nothing.
Her jaw trembled as if muscle mory was trying to form syllables that no longer existed. "I—" I swallowed hard. I leaned forward despite myself, straining to understand what she was trying to say. "Lila, I can’t— I can’t hear you."
Just so minutes ago she was totally fine when she threw those words at . She shook her head violently, frustration and panic crashing together in her eyes.
Her hands fluttered uselessly at her throat, then pressed flat to her chest like she was trying to push the aning out so other way.
Nonna’s wheelchair creaked as she shifted, her voice sharp now, cutting through the shock. "What happened to you?" she demanded. "Who touched you? Who did this to your mouth?"
Lila’s gaze snapped to Nonna for half a second until a sound reached us from the hallway.
Footsteps. Not hurried. Not running.
asured. Heavy.
The color drained from Lila’s face so fast it was almost frightening. Her eyes flew to the open door, wide and wild, her whole body going rigid like a cornered animal.
Another step sounded, closer this ti, the wood beneath it groaning softly. A broken sound tore out of her again.
She scrambled forward, clumsy and desperate, dragging herself onto her knees. Her hands latched onto my leg, fingers biting hard through fabric and skin.
I gasped. "Lila—" She shook her head frantically, tears spilling down her bruised face, her grip tightening as if letting go would an sothing final.
Her eyes locked onto mine, pleading, apologizing, warning—everything at once. Whatever she was trying to say, it was urgent enough to terrify her.
"Let go of her," Nonna said sharply, reaching out, trying to pry Lila’s hands away. "Child, you’re hurting her."
But Nonna was old. And Lila was panicking. The footsteps grew louder. Closer. Right outside the room now.
Lila’s whole body began to shake violently. She pressed her forehead against my knee, clutching like an anchor, like I was the only thing keeping her from being dragged back into whatever had broken her this way.
I could feel her fear vibrating through . And suddenly, I understood. She wasn’t asking for help. She was begging not to let go.
But not let go to what?
A shadow fell across the doorway. It swallowed the light in one clean stroke, turning the open fra into sothing solid and looming.
My breath caught. Slowly—too slowly—I dragged my eyes away from Lila’s shaking hands. From her fingers digging into my leg. From the terror pouring out of her.
My gaze traveled upward. Shoes first. Dark leather, spotless. Then trousers, tailored and unwrinkled, as if the man wearing them hadn’t just co from violence.
My stomach tightened as my eyes kept climbing, dread building with every inch. A hand ca into view.
A man’s hand. It was stained red,slick along the knuckles, sared into the lines of his palm like paint that hadn’t dried yet.
More of it marked his cheek, a careless streak across skin that looked otherwise untouched. No bruises. No swelling. No sign of a struggle.
Just blood.
Roo stood in the doorway, filling it completely, his presence sucking the air out of the room.
His expression was unreadable—calm, almost detached—as if he’d simply walked in on a conversation instead of a scene ripped open by fear.
Lila made a sound then. It wasn’t a scream. It couldn’t be. It was sothing raw and broken that scraped its way out of her chest. Her grip on tightened painfully as she twisted, trying to crawl behind , trying to disappear.
Her eyes never left him.
Nonna froze.
Her chair stopped moving, one hand still half-extended, her face going tight and pale as she took him in. "Roo," she said, low and sharp. "What is this?"
He didn’t answer her right away. His gaze dropped...to Lila.
And Lila shattered.
She shook so violently I could feel it through my bones, her fingers clawing at now, desperation turning feral.
She pressed her face into my leg again, as if she could hide there, as if my body could shield her from what she knew was standing only a few feet away.
I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt hollow, like sothing essential had been scooped out and replaced with ice.
Roo’s eyes finally lifted.
They t mine. And in that instant—before anyone spoke, before anything else happened—I understood exactly what Lila had been begging not to let go of.
Not the room. Not Nonna. Not even herself. . Because I was the only thing standing between her and him.
††
Well well well, Roo did cut off the tongue lol. Would Katya be grateful or nah. What would y’all do if you’re in this situation.
Thanks for reading.
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