Chapter 321: Questions

CHAPTER 322

KATYA POV

By the time the afternoon settled over the estate, breakfast already felt strangely unreal.

The morning sunlight had long since climbed higher into the sky, replacing the pale dawn with warm golden light that spilled across every corner of the villa.

Somewhere inside the house, staff moved quietly through their usual routines. Lunch was still some time away, and for the first time since we’d returned from the club, the estate had fallen back into its familiar rhythm.

Peaceful. Almost painfully so.

m You would never have guessed what had happened less than twenty-four hours ago.

I sat on one of the wrought-iron benches overlooking Nonna’s rose garden, my elbows resting lightly on my knees.

The breeze drifted lazily through the flowers, carrying with it the sweet scent of roses and freshly cut grass. Somewhere nearby, water trickled softly from the old marble fountain hidden among the hedges.

Birds chirped. Leaves rustled. Everything looked…Normal. Beside me, Chiara sat unusually still.

That alone was unsettling. Normally, she’d have found at least five different topics to complain about before lunch.

Instead, she’d barely spoken since breakfast.

Honestly… Neither had I. Because neither of us had the slightest idea what had just happened.

Breakfast had gone completely differently from what we’d expected. I’d walked into that dining room convinced our secret was about to explode.

Instead… Romeo had somehow convinced Nonna that we’d spent the previous evening helping him with work.

Not only that— She’d actually scolded him.

Him. And THAT apology….. it still baffles me that Romeo, the almighty and cold man apologized to me for what I have no idea of…The thought still felt ridiculous.

I let out a slow breath, watching a handful of white flower petals tumble across the stone path before disappearing beneath the hedges.

I still couldn’t understand it. Nonna hadn’t questioned me. She hadn’t questioned Chiara.

She hadn’t asked where we’d gone. She hadn’t asked why we’d looked so exhausted. She hadn’t even seemed remotely suspicious.

Instead, she’d looked… Satisfied. As if whatever explanation Romeo had given her had answered every question she’d intended to ask.

Which only created a completely different problem. What exactly had he told her?

I couldn’t ask. Absolutely couldn’t. The temptation had nearly won several times during breakfast.

I had wanted to ask Nonna what Romeo had said. But doing that would have been unbelievably stupid.

The moment I asked…

The lie would begin falling apart. Nonna wasn’t foolish. If Romeo had truly explained everything, why would I suddenly need clarification?

She’d immediately realize something didn’t fit. And then… Everything would unravel.

So I’d remained quiet. Smiled whenever appropriate. Forced myself to eat despite having absolutely no appetite.

Then escaped to the garden the first chance I got. The breeze brushed gently across my face, carrying a welcome coolness beneath the afternoon sun.

I leaned back slightly against the bench. Maybe…Maybe it was better this way. Maybe some questions really didn’t need answers.

Unfortunately…

My brain completely disagreed. It wanted answers. It demanded them. Every few minutes my thoughts circled right back to the exact same place.

Romeo.

Again. I groaned inwardly. Why was everything somehow leading back to him?

First the alley. Then the drive home. Then breakfast. Now this. I wasn’t even trying to think about him anymore.

Yet somehow… I always ended up doing exactly that.

Beside me, Chiara let out a long sigh.

“I’ve been thinking.” I glanced sideways. “I think…” She hesitated, absently picking at the sleeve of her sweater.

“I think we should just forget about whatever Don Romeo told Nonna.”

I looked at her properly. She continued staring straight ahead.

“I mean…” she said quietly, “…maybe it’s better this way.”

I waited. She shrugged one shoulder.

“Nonna doesn’t seem angry.”

True.

“She doesn’t seem disappointed either.”

Also true.

“If she’s happy…” Chiara exhaled softly.

“…maybe we should just leave it alone.” The words lingered between us. They made sense.

Annoyingly so. If we kept digging… We risked uncovering something that had already been buried.

If Romeo had chosen to protect us— For whatever incomprehensible reason— Then questioning everyone involved would only make things worse.

I knew that.

Logically… Chiara was right.

Emotionally… I hated it.

Because I still didn’t understand. And I hated not understanding.

“I know,” I admitted after a long pause, folding my arms.. “I just…”

The words refused to come easily. “I don’t understand him.” Chiara looked at me.

“I don’t think anyone does.”

Fair enough.

That answer somehow felt both comforting and deeply unhelpful.

Another breeze swept through the garden. Rose bushes swayed gently. The afternoon sun warmed the tops of my hands where they rested in my lap.

I glanced absentmindedly toward the long gravel path leading back toward the house.

Empty. I hadn’t seen Romeo since breakfast. Not once.

Part of me was relieved.

The larger part… Didn’t know what to feel anymore.

If I saw him… What exactly was I supposed to do? Thank him?

Pretend breakfast had never happened? Ask why he’d lied? Absolutely not. That conversation alone sounded exhausting.

Besides…

How did one even begin asking someone like Romeo—

Excuse me, why exactly did you invent an entirely different version of last night and somehow convince your grandmother that we were helping you work instead of sneaking into a nightclub?

Ridiculous. He’d probably stare at me for five seconds before walking away.

Honestly… That seemed like the most likely outcome. Which was precisely why I had no intention of approaching him.

Ever.

Well…

At least not today. “You’re thinking again.” Chiara’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

I blinked. “You were thinking about him?”

I looked away immediately.

“No.”

She gave me a look but said nothing while resting her chin in her palm. Silence returned once more. This time… The wind stirred again. Somewhere beyond the hedges, I heard distant footsteps.

At first, I paid them little attention. Staff crossed these gardens all the time. Gardeners. Housekeepers.

Security. The estate was never truly empty.

The footsteps continued.

Measured and Unhurried. Crunching softly over the gravel path.

Closer. Something about the rhythm made me look up. My head turned slightly toward the sound. The movement was almost absentminded.

Until I saw who it was. I froze. My breath caught somewhere between my lungs and my throat.

Romeo.

He was walking along the stone pathway that wound through the center of the gardens, one hand tucked casually into the pocket of his dark joggers.

The afternoon breeze shifted a few strands of his dark hair. He was dressed almost exactly as he had been that morning.

Simple.

Black.

Effortlessly composed.

The mask still covered the upper half of his face, concealing everything except those impossibly calm grey eyes.

For one absurd second… I actually wondered if I should pretend I hadn’t seen him.

Perhaps if I looked away quickly enough—

Too late.

His gaze lifted. Locked directly onto mine. The world seemed to narrow into that single moment.

Beside me, I felt Chiara straighten almost imperceptibly.

Neither of us spoke.

Neither did he.

He simply continued walking toward us with the same steady, unhurried pace.

And suddenly…

Every question I’d been trying so hard to stop thinking about came rushing back all at once.

what’s Romeo up to?