I clamp my mouth shut.
She crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the space beside her. After a moment's hesitation, I join her, keeping a careful distance between us.
"Being a housekeeper doesn't make you less human," she says. Her voice is softer now. Almost gentle. "It doesn't make you less, period."
I stare at the carpet. There's a tiny stain near my left foot. Red wine, maybe. Or blood. In this house, who knows.
"You don't understand," I whisper. "Your family is... you're all..."
"Rich? Powerful? Terrifying?" She laughs, but there's no mockery in it. "Yeah. We are. But that doesn't mean everyone else is beneath us. That's not how this family works."
Isn't it? I want to ask. Because from where I'm standing, the gap between us feels like the Grand Canyon.
"To be honest," Vittoria continues, tucking one leg beneath her, "I like you more than most of the businesswomen who come through here."
I look up, startled. "What?"
"Those women." She wrinkles her nose. "All fake smiles and designer handbags and trying to impress my brothers. Theydon't see us as people. We're just... assets to them. Connections to acquire."
I think of the gala. The glittering dresses, the champagne, the way every guest looked through me like I was furniture.
"You're different," Vittoria says. "You actually give a shit. About Lily, obviously, but also... I've seen how you are with Nora. With my mother. Even with Nico, and trust me, nobody knows how to handle Nico."
My throat tightens. "I just... I try to be kind."
"Exactly." She reaches over and squeezes my hand. Her fingers are warm. "Never again think you deserve less because of your job. Never. That's bullshit, and I won't let you believe it."
I blink rapidly, fighting fresh tears. Jack spent years making me feel small. Worthless. Like I should be grateful anyone wanted me at all.
And here's this woman telling me I matter.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" The question slips out before I can stop it.
Vittoria tilts her head. "Because someone should be."
Simple as that. No strings attached. No hidden agenda.
God, when did kindness become so confusing?
"Besides," she adds with a slight smile, "my brother clearly likes you. And Nico doesn't like anyone."
My face heats. "He doesn't?—"
"Please." She rolls her eyes. "I've known him my whole life. He looks at you like you're something he wants but thinks he can't have."
I think of his thumb on my cheek. The way his voice dropped when he said my name. The almost-kiss that still burns on my lips despite never actually happening.
"It doesn't matter how he looks at me," I say quietly. "I'm not... I can't..."
I can't risk it. I can't trust again. I can't fall for a man who lives in a world of blood and bullets.
But even as I think it, part of me knows it's already too late.
Vittoria stands, smoothing down her shirt. "You don't have to figure everything out right now. Just... don't sell yourself short. Okay?"
I nod slowly. "Okay."
Vittoria slips out with a small wave, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Which is exactly where I don't want to be.
