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Maddy gasped.“But youwill?”

“Yeah,” Catarina admitted, butterflies dancing in her stomach.“I hope so.He’s…uh…pretty hot, Maddy.”

“Youlikeyour husband?”Maddy whispered as if the idea were scandalous.

Catarina laughed, startled at how true the words felt.“Yeah.I do.He’s not the monster the rumors make him out to be.He’s kind.Gentle.He’s…nice, Maddy.”

A pause stretched, softer this time.Then Maddy said warmly, “That’s really good, Cat.I’m happy for you.”

Catarina exhaled slowly.“Yeah.Now I just need to figure out how to seduce him.”Another screech.Catarina laughed, shaking her head.“Why are you shocked?Youknowhow much I want kids.”

“Yeah, but we never thought you’d want them with a guy in…well, you know.”

“I know,” she murmured.

A noise behind her made her jump, and she twisted around quickly.“I’d better go.Someone’s coming.Love you—talk soon!”

She ended the call just as Barbara entered, balancing a tray.

“Good afternoon, dear,” the housekeeper said gently.“You skipped lunch again.Mr.Romano asked me to bring you a little something.”

Catarina looked down at the tray: neat sandwiches, bright slices of fruit, and a glass of lemonade beading with condensation.It was simple, but it felt extravagant compared to the careless way she’d been treated in her father’s house.

When she looked up again, Barbara was already halfway into the room.

“Barbara!”she blurted, nerves tightening her throat.“Thank you,” she whispered, her hands knotting together.“This is very kind of you.”

Barbara hesitated as she set the tray down on a table nearby, but before she left, the older woman looked at Catarina.Her eyes softened, though her lips pressed into a firm line.“Your husband…he’s a good man.”She shook her head as if biting back more words.“Never mind.If you need anything, you ask me.I’ll make you whatever you like.”

Catarina stared down at the tray, then had an idea.“Barbara!”she called, rushing to the door.

The housekeeper had already walked out, but she leaned her head back in, brows raised.“Yes, ma’am?”

“Would you…um…the cooking lessons?I don’t want to be a bother but…?”

Barbara stepped back into the room, folding her hands in front of her apron.“I thought Sal was going to teach you.”

Catarina blushed, then gestured toward the tray.“He was.”She hesitated, then ducked her head so the older woman couldn’t see her cheeks flaming.“I mean… Sal said that he’d teach me, but…,” she sighed, not exactly sure how to explain.Finally, she lifted her eyes and clarified, “Maybe…you could teach me how to make Sal’s favorite foods?”

Barbara smiled gently and nodded.“Absolutely.Whenever you’re ready, you just tell me, and I’ll make time for lessons.”A sly smile curved her mouth.“And yes, I know all of the man’s favorites.Stick with me, and you’ll have him spoiled in no time.”

Catarina’s smile broke free, brighter and more genuine than she could remember in years.The idea of doing something for Sal warmed her chest, but the deeper truth—the thought of learning a life skill for herself, of no longer being helpless—lit something new inside her.Her shoulders drew back, her spine straightened.For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel like she was shrinking.

She didn’t notice the subtle change in her own step, the small bounce of energy that had never been there before, but Barbara did.The housekeeper’s eyes softened as Catarina left the room.

Halfway through the sandwich, inspiration struck like lightning.She leapt to her feet, nearly sprinting for the door before remembering the tray.With a quick, self-deprecating laugh, she shoved the last bite of bread into her mouth, gathered the tray, and carried it quickly downstairs.

“Thank you!”she called, etiquette forgotten as she popped the final grape into her mouth.She set the tray beside the sink, her grin widening at Barbara’s quiet chuckle before she darted off down the hallway.

At Sal’s office door, she hesitated.Knocking softly, she waited, then, hearing no response, pushed it open.The room was empty.Seizing the chance, she slipped inside, grabbed a few sheets of paper and one of his pens, then spun to leave.

And nearly collided with him.

Sal stood there with the same two powerful men from earlier although Tony was no longer with them, his presence filling the doorway like a wall.His gaze locked on her, sharp and intent, even as he extended his hand toward her without thought—claiming, steady, inevitable.

Her pulse leapt.That simple gesture sent heat rushing through her, equal parts pride and giddy nerves.Brushing imaginary crumbs from her dress, she crossed to him and slid her free hand into his, grounding herself in his strength.

“I thought of something,” she said, breathless, holding up the paper and pen as if to prove to him that she wasn’t invading his privacy.“I remembered where I saw the woman I drew for you.”