amaotonovel Chapter 257: Hot.
Chapter 257: Hot.
Chapter 257
KATYA POV
Elena smiled wider when she saw the way I stiffened, like she’d already learned something important about me without needing it explained. "I would hug you properly," she said, resting a hand over her stomach with a soft laugh, "but my little one has decided my personal space no longer belongs to me."
Her voice was gentle. Musical in a way that felt earned, not practiced. "That’s okay," I said quickly, then hesitated. "I mean—thank you."
She laughed again, quieter this time. "You don’t need to thank me for wanting to hug you, cara."
Chiara groaned dramatically beside me. "See? I told you. She hugs everyone. I’m offended you didn’t try anyway."
Elena shot her a look. "You’re offended by breathing."
"That’s because I do it too much," Chiara shot back easily, then turned to me, eyes bright. "Give it time. She’ll hug you whether you’re ready or not."
I wasn’t sure whether that was a promise or a threat. Elena gestured us inside with a small tilt of her head. "Come in. You’re blocking my light and I need all of it these days."
We stepped fully into the kitchen, and the warmth wrapped around me instantly, making me remember miss Stella. The light in my eyes dimmed thinking about how she had looked at me. I just hope she doesn’t hate me more with Lila’s death.
Chiara hand wrapped around mine, pulling me out of my sorrowful thoughts, I thought she would ask me what’s wrong but she only smiled and pulled me towards a chair.
Elena moved slowly, carefully, but not weakly. Everything about her felt deliberate. Like she knew exactly how much space she was allowed to take and refused to shrink beyond it.
Chiara hopped onto a stool like she owned the place. Which, judging by Elena’s fond sigh, she probably did.
"So," she said casually, leaning forward on the stool, peering into the bowl Elena had set aside. "what are you making?"
Elena didn’t even look up as she reached for a jar on the counter. "Something you are not eating."
Chiara gasped, hand flying to her chest. "That’s cruel. I live here."
"And you eat everything in sight." Elena said softly.
"I am supporting two people now," Chiara argued, nodding toward Elena’s stomach. "Me and the baby."
Elena snorted. "The baby has no interest in sharing with you."
Chiara turned to me, eyes wide, seeking an ally. "Do you see how she treats me?" I hesitated, the words tangling in my throat.
I wasn’t used to being pulled into conversations like this—casual, teasing, unguarded. I offered a small shrug instead. "She... seems nice."
Chiara laughed like I’d said something profound. "nice" she repeated approvingly. "That’s her polite word for evil."
Elena finally glanced over her shoulder, eyebrow raised. "Careful. I am pregnant, not powerless."
"That’s debatable," Chiara said cheerfully. Then she grinned and added, "Can you believe she got pregnant by one of the guards here?"
The words landed too fast. My spine stiffened before I could stop it, my eyes flicking instinctively toward the door, the walls—anywhere but Elena.
Elena sighed, long-suffering. "Chiara."
"What?" Chiara said innocently, then looked back at me. "It’s romantic. In a very Nonna-would-have-a-heart-attack kind of way."
"We are married," Elena said firmly, turning fully now. "Legally. Properly. With witnesses."
Chiara waved a hand. "Details."
Elena pointed the spoon at her. "Important details."
I swallowed, heat creeping up my neck. Marriage. Guards. Choice. All of it felt... foreign. Dangerous, almost. Where I came from, power and affection never mixed without consequences.
"That’s—" I started, then stopped. My voice felt too loud in my own ears. "That’s... nice."
Elena’s expression softened immediately, like she heard everything I wasn’t saying. "It is," she said gently. "Unexpected. But good."
Chiara hopped down from the stool and moved closer to me, bumping my shoulder lightly with hers. "Her husband is hot, like hot hot but his not hot like James or Romeo."
My stomach dipped before I could stop it.
Romeo. The name dragged something cold up my spine. I must have reacted, because Elena paused mid-movement.
The spoon in her hand hovered for half a second too long before Clack.
Elena smacked the back of Chiara’s head with the wooden spoon, not hard, but sharp enough to snap the air.
"Ow!" Chiara yelped, rubbing her scalp. "What was that for?"
"For saying his name like that," Elena said calmly, already turning back to the counter.
Chiara gaped. "Oh shit, Don Salvatore" She dragged the his name.
Elena scoffed as she smacked another spoon to chiara’s head, this time quicker.
I stayed quiet, my fingers curling tighter in my lap. The way Elena corrected her wasn’t fear. It was habit. Respect carved so deep it surfaced even in jokes.
"But James," Chiara insisted, undeterred, turning back to me like she was sharing a secret. "James is—ugh. Ridiculously hot. Like unfairly so."
My throat tightened. "James?" I repeated carefully, like the name might bite if I held it wrong, remembering the metal biting into my wrists, the weight of hands that hadn’t asked, the sound of cuffs snapping shut like a decision already made for me.
Chiara sighed dramatically, eyes rolling back. "Yes, James. Tall. Dark. Always brooding like someone stole his joy at birth."
Elena snorted. "That’s because you never left him alone."
"He was my childhood best friend," Chiara argued.
Elena laughed outright. "He was not your friend."
"He was!"
"He barely tolerated you," Elena corrected. Chiara crossed her arms. "That still counts."
"No," Elena said flatly. "It does not. He used to hide behind Romeo to avoid you."
"That is a lie."
"He once pretended to be on guard duty for six hours just so he wouldn’t have to listen to you talk an he wasn’t even of age then"
Chiara gasped, offended. "That’s dedication. You don’t do that for someone you don’t care about."
Elena rolled her eyes. "You were loud. He was desperate."
I stared at the floor, my pulse loud in my ears. Their version of James didn’t match the man I remembered—controlled, unreadable, efficient. The one who’d looked at me like I was already restrained before the cuffs ever touched my skin.
"You know him?" Chiara asked suddenly, tilting her head at me. The question hit me.
"I—" My voice faltered. I forced it steady. "I’ve... seen him."
That wasn’t a lie. Chiara brightened instantly. "Wasn’t he hot?." She wiggled her brows while Elena gave me a sideways look, something perceptive flickering behind her eyes.
She didn’t press. Just turned back to the stove and stirred slowly. "For the record," Elena said mildly, "James has the emotional range of a locked door."
Chiara grinned. "Exactly my type." I didn’t smile, not because I didn’t find the their banter amusing but because I wouldn’t wish for Chiara to be with someone that’s close to Romeo.
††
James and Chiara huh?
A chaotic Duo lol