Chapter 319: Completely at ease

CHAPTER 320

KATYA POV

“…Unbelievable.”

I wasn’t even entirely sure which part I found unbelievable. The fact that he’d walked into my room without warning. Or the fact that he’d somehow managed to leave without saying a single word.

Marching toward my wardrobe with considerably more determination than before, I pulled both doors open.

Rows of neatly arranged clothes greeted me. All through these six months in Italy, Nonna had been the best to me.

Normally, I’d spend several minutes deciding what to wear. But not today. Today I couldn’t have cared less.

Without giving myself time to think, I reached inside and grabbed the first comfortable outfit my hands landed on.

A soft charcoal-grey hoodie. Black joggers. Simple and Comfortable.

I shut the wardrobe with my hip before carrying everything toward the dresser near the bathroom. The robe slipped from my shoulders moments later, landing in an untidy heap across the cushioned bench beneath the mirror.

I dressed quickly. Far more quickly than I usually did. The joggers settled comfortably around my waist before I tugged the oversized hoodie over my head. It immediately made me feel less…

Exposed. Less aware of the awkward encounter that had just taken place.

I pulled the sleeves over my hands absentmindedly before glancing toward my reflection.

Better. At least now I looked like myself again.

My damp hair, however, remained another problem entirely. White strands clung stubbornly to my neck and shoulders.

I reached automatically for a hair tie resting on the dresser. Gathering everything together proved more difficult than expected. Several shorter strands escaped almost immediately.

I frowned, doing another attempt. This time I managed to twist everything into a loose, messy bun high at the back of my head.

Not neat. Not particularly elegant. but Good enough. A few damp strands framed either side of my face anyway.

I didn’t bother fixing them. There were more pressing problems waiting downstairs.

Nonna. The reminder immediately erased what little satisfaction I’d felt after getting dressed. My stomach tightened all over again.

Should I go downstairs now?

Or… Delay the inevitable for another ten minutes?

Maybe fifteen. Would that make it better?

Probably not.

If anything, it would only give me more time to imagine increasingly terrible versions of the conversation waiting for me.

I sighed. There was no escaping it. Eventually, I would have to face her. Eventually, she would ask questions.

Eventually… Someone would have to answer them.

Hopefully Chiara.

Very hopefully Chiara. I wandered absentmindedly back into the bedroom, rubbing one sleeve over the lingering moisture at the back of my neck.

Knock.

I froze. My head snapped toward the bedroom entrance. A strange feeling settled immediately in my stomach.

Romeo? The thought appeared automatically. He’d probably forgotten something.

Or perhaps— Another knock echoed through the room.

A little louder this time.

I frowned. That was odd.

If it were Romeo…

Would he knock? Technically, he didn’t need to. The connecting door existed for a reason. Heat threatened to creep into my face.

Absolutely not.

I refused to think about that. Taking a steadying breath, I walked toward the bedroom entrance. Each step felt strangely cautious despite the complete lack of danger.

The knock came again. Three quick taps. More impatient this time. Definitely not Romeo. He wasn’t impatient.

Nor was he likely to knock three times. My hand settled around the brass handle.

I pulled the door open.

“…Chiara?” She stood in the hallway already dressed for the day.

Well… As dressed as Chiara ever looked before breakfast.

She wore an oversized cream sweatshirt tucked carelessly into loose linen trousers, one sleeve half rolled while the other remained exactly where it had started.

Her dark hair had clearly been brushed.

At some point.

Since then… It seemed to have developed entirely independent opinions.

Several loose curls escaped around her face, making her look as though she’d rushed out of her room without bothering to check a mirror.

She looked… Surprisingly nervous. The usual sparkle dancing inside her eyes had dimmed considerably.

Instead, she stood shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. The moment our eyes met…

She gave me a sheepish smile.

“Morning.”

“Morning…”

For a second… Neither of us spoke. Then, almost simultaneously—

“You slept?”

“Did you sleep?”

We both stopped.

Blinked. Then stared at each other. Chiara let out a tired laugh first.

“You answer.”

I folded my arms.

“Not really.” She nodded immediately.

“Me neither.”

For some reason… That made me feel better. At least I wasn’t the only one whose brain had refused to cooperate all night.

“You look exhausted.”

“So do you.”

“Thanks.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“I know.”

Silence settled between us again.

Not uncomfortable.

Just…

Heavy.

My eyes searched her face.

“You’ve been thinking about it too.”

It wasn’t a question.

Chiara’s smile disappeared.

“Yeah.” Chiara rubbed both hands slowly against her sleeves before looking past me into the room.

“You’ve been awake long?”

“A while.”

“I figured.” She tilted her head slightly.

“I almost knocked earlier.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Her expression became strangely guilty. “I wasn’t sure if you were asleep.”

My eyebrow lifted.

“You’ve never cared before.”

“I know. it’s just…” She gave me an awkward smile. “You and the Don share a door now….” I looked at her, She wasn’t wrong. Chiara groaned dramatically before dropping her forehead against the doorframe.

“I don’t want to go downstairs.” I understood exactly what she meant.

“I don’t either,” I admitted quietly. “But we have to.”

Chiara let out a long, defeated groan. “The longer we make Nonna wait…” I sighed, “…the worse it’ll probably be.”

She stared mournfully down the hallway. “I was hoping she’d magically forget.”

I gave her a look.

“Chiara.”

“I know.” She threw both hands into the air dramatically. “I know she won’t forget.”

Another silence settled between us. Neither of us moved. As though standing outside my bedroom somehow delayed the inevitable.

Eventually, I glanced toward the pair of loafers sitting neatly beside the wall. With another resigned sigh, I slipped my feet into them one after the other before bending to smooth the back of the heels into place.

Comfortable. At least something today was.

Straightening again, I reached back into my room for one final look, making sure I’d left nothing lying around before gently pulling the bedroom door shut behind me.

The soft click echoed through the quiet hallway.

That was it. No more delaying.

“Ready?” I asked.

Chiara made a face.

“No.”

“…Me neither.” Despite that, we started walking.

The hallway felt unusually quiet this early in the morning. Golden sunlight filtered through the tall windows overlooking the gardens, stretching across the polished wooden floor in long ribbons of light.

Normally, I loved mornings here. The house always felt peaceful before everyone fully woke up.

Today… It simply felt like the calm before an execution.

Our footsteps remained soft as we headed toward the grand staircase. Neither of us spoke for several moments.

Then, just as we reached the top step, Chiara nudged my arm.

“So…” I looked sideways at her.

“You got a plan?”

“A plan?”

She nodded.

“For when Nonna starts asking questions.” I exhaled slowly. “I was trying not to think about that.”

“Well…” she muttered, “I’ve been thinking enough for both of us.”

We started descending the staircase together, our footsteps quiet against the polished wood.

“So?” She looked at me expectantly.

“Should we stick with Romeo’s story?” My pace faltered almost imperceptibly.

The lie.

Working.

It was still unbelievable how effortlessly he’d said it. I looked ahead again.

“…It’s probably the safest option.” Chiara nodded immediately.

“I thought so too.”

Another few steps. Then the obvious problem occurred to both of us at exactly the same time.

I frowned.

“…What kind of work?” She blinked.

“…Huh?”

“What work did we supposedly help him with?” Chiara’s mouth slowly opened.

“…Oh.”

“Exactly.”

“We can’t just keep saying ‘work.'”

“No.”

“What if Nonna asks what we actually did?”

I rubbed my forehead.

“Then we’re in trouble.”

Chiara groaned.

“I didn’t think that far.”

“I noticed.”

She sighed dramatically.

“I was too busy celebrating that we weren’t immediately arrested.”

Fair enough. I couldn’t exactly argue with that. Still… The story had holes.

Big ones.

We reached the bottom of the staircase. Neither of us said another word.

The silence returned, heavier than before. Step by step, we crossed the entrance hall until the familiar double doors leading to the dining room came into view.

My stomach tightened instantly. We both stopped. There was no avoiding it. If Nonna wasn’t already inside… She would be in the next few minutes. Either way…

This conversation was happening. Chiara slowly turned toward me. I looked back at her. Neither of us spoke.

She inhaled deeply. I did the same.

It felt strangely like standing outside an examination room after forgetting everything I’d supposedly studied.

“You first,” she whispered.

I stared at her.

“Absolutely not.”

She gave me an innocent smile.

“Worth trying.”

I rolled my eyes despite myself. The nerves had swallowed whatever amusement might have been there.

Finally… Together…

We reached for the handles. The heavy doors swung inward with surprising ease.

The familiar scent of fresh coffee, warm bread, and butter drifted into the hallway.

I stepped inside first. My eyes immediately searched for Nonna.

She was exactly where I’d expected.

m Seated at the head of the long dining table with a cup of tea resting beside her.

But she wasn’t alone.

I stopped so abruptly Chiara nearly walked into my back. My heartbeat stumbled.

Romeo. He was already there. Seated calmly beside Nonna as though he’d been part of breakfast all along. A cup of black coffee rested untouched in front of him.

He looked entirely at ease.