Chapter 330: Yours or mine

ROMEO POV

The silence inside my room was a welcome change. It was one of the few places inside the villa where nobody expected anything from me.

No conversations. No meetings. No questions. Just quiet.

I reached for the hem of my sweater and pulled it over my head, tossing it carelessly onto the armchair near the bed before rolling the stiffness out of my shoulders.

The afternoon had been… long. The police. Nonna’s questions after they’d left. Calls that couldn’t be ignored.

Reports from my main branch waiting. I really couldn’t just abandon them after making an impulsive travel across countries.

And all these because of …her. She’d spent the entire afternoon trying very hard to pretend she wasn’t terrified.

She wasn’t convincing. A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. Three measured taps.

Not loud. Not hesitant either. My hand paused halfway toward the wardrobe. My eyes shifted toward the bedroom door.

That… was unusual. Very unusual.

James wouldn’t knock. Neither would any member of my security detail. Because they knew better. I’d made that rule myself the very day I step back to the country.

No one came to my bedroom door. Ever. If they needed me, they called. If it wasn’t urgent, they waited until I left my room.

Simple. There had been complaints in the beginning. There always were. I hadn’t cared. There was a reason the rule existed.

My bedroom wasn’t accessed from the main hallway. It connected through Katya’s room. Which meant anyone wanting to knock on my door first had to enter hers.

An unnecessary invasion of her privacy. Whether she appreciated the consideration or not was irrelevant.

The rule remained. So… Who exactly was standing outside? Certainly not James.

If he ignored one of my direct orders, he’d better be carrying news important enough to justify it.

I doubted that. My curiosity grew.

Katya? No. I dismissed the thought almost immediately.

After today’s interrogation? She barely looked in my direction unless she absolutely had to.

The girl still stiffened whenever I occupied the same room. She wasn’t voluntarily seeking me out.

Not yet.

Chiara, perhaps. That possibility seemed considerably more believable. The head maid’s daughter had far fewer reservations.

Nervous?

Yes.

Afraid?

Certainly.

But unlike Katya, She possessed the unfortunate habit of speaking before fear had the opportunity to stop her.

I walked toward the door, more curious than cautious. Another soft knock echoed just as my fingers closed around the handle.

Without bothering to put my shirt back on, I pulled the door open.

The movement stopped halfway through.

Well. That… I hadn’t expected. Standing in the doorway was none other than Katya.

Not Chiara.

Katya.

She stood perfectly still, one hand still half-raised from knocking, as though she hadn’t quite expected the door to open so quickly.

Her eyes lifted automatically. Then froze as genuine surprise crossed her face.

Her gaze flickered over my bare shoulders before darting somewhere above them with almost comical determination, as if looking anywhere else required too much courage.

Interesting.

I rested one hand against the edge of the door, saying nothing.

Neither did she. The silence stretched between us. She’d come to my room.

Voluntarily. Whatever had finally pushed her here… It had to be important. Because fear had clearly accompanied her all the way to my door.

I waited but she didn’t speak. she simply stood there, fingers twisting together as though she’d forgotten why she’d come.

Her breathing was a fraction too quick. Her shoulders were stiff. Even now, she refused to meet my eyes for more than a heartbeat before looking somewhere over my shoulder instead.

Still avoiding me. Old habits. “My face isn’t that frightening.” The words left me before I gave them much thought.

Dry. Matter-of-fact. Nothing more.

Her eyes snapped towards my half masked face. “I…” She frowned. I leaned one shoulder against the doorframe.

“You’ve knocked on my door,” I said evenly. A quiet exhale escaped her. She looked… conflicted.

Like half of her wanted to continue the conversation while the other half regretted knocking in the first place.

Interesting. She drew in a slow breath. A deliberate one. Not the kind people took naturally.

The kind they took when trying to convince themselves they were brave enough to do something they very much wanted to avoid.

I noticed the subtle rise of her shoulders. The way her fingers gradually stopped twisting together. The tiny lift of her chin.

She was gathering confidence. Or attempting to. Whether she’d actually found any remained questionable.

Her eyes finally settled on mine. Not for a fleeting second this time.

She held my gaze. Barely. But she held it.

“I…” Another breath. “I would like us to talk.”

My left eyebrow lifted of its own accord.

That… Was unexpected. Of all the things I’d anticipated hearing when I opened this door… That sentence hadn’t made the list.

Talk. An interesting choice of words. Particularly considering our previous attempts.

The last time we’d been alone together, every answer she’d given had consisted of one or two words.

Fine.

Good.

Yes.

No.

The conversation had been so painfully awkward that even my grandmother’s interruption had been a welcome relief.

And now… She wanted to talk. A smirk threatened to surface. I suppressed it before it fully formed. Mocking her now would accomplish nothing.

Besides… Curiosity had already won. I pushed the door open another few inches, stepping back just enough to widen the space between us.

“My room?”

I gestured lightly behind me.

“Or yours?” My hand shifted toward the open doorway leading back into hers. I don’t particularly care. The choice, however Interested me.

If she chose my room, she’d be stepping willingly into my space. If she chose hers, she’d be asking me to enter hers—although I have been passing through her’s.

Neither option was insignificant. She followed the movement of my hand, her gaze drifting first into my bedroom…

Then back toward her own. For a brief moment, she looked almost offended that I’d made her decide.

Good. People revealed far more through the choices they disliked making than the ones that came easily.

I remained where I was. Waiting.

After all… She’d come looking for me.