Let Me Go, Mr. Howard Chapter 288

Natasha was the Russo family's longtime housekeeper. In her younger years, she'd worked under Marco's father, but as she aged, she'd stepped back from the mob life.

And when Marco became the new godfather, facing increasingly strict legal systems, he'd steered the family toward legitimate business to ensure their survival.

An old-timer like Natasha naturally had no place in that new world.

Still, Natasha was a Drovinskian who'd followed Marco's father, living in Seraphim for over half her lifetime. The Russo family—who never abandoned their own—kept her on without hesitation.

These days, Natasha spent her retirement at the estate, baking cookies whenever the mood struck.

"Aren't you worried about making him mad?"

After walking a bit with Rosalia, Scarlett finally asked.

The question came out of nowhere. Rosalia didn't catch her meaning at first. She stopped mid-stride and looked back. "Who'd be mad?"

Scarlett just looked at her, silent.

Reading her expression, it only took Rosalia a few seconds to figure out exactly who he was.

The change in Rosalia's face was instant.

Her eyebrows drooped, her mouth turned down, and her voice cracked with emotion. Without warning—ignoring Scarlett's resistance—she pulled her into a tight hug.

Scarlett wasn't short, but next to Rosalia, she felt small.

Rosalia stood nearly eye-to-eye with Sebastian.

Which meant Scarlett's face was currently buried in Rosalia's chest.

Even though they were both women, Scarlett froze, completely at a loss.

"Rosa... Rosalia, Ms. Russo!"

She cycled through several titles before finally breaking through to Rosalia's rational mind.

Rosalia released her at last, but immediately cupped Scarlett's face in her hands, launching into an exaggerated stream of Seraphine that left Scarlett completely lost.

Though she couldn't understand most of it, Scarlett wasn't a complete novice anymore. After months of watching Seraphim TV dramas, she could pick up simple phrases.

Like the part where Rosalia kept repeating something about poor child.

Combined with Rosalia's expression, Scarlett pieced together what she was saying. And once she did—introvert or not, Lumarian reserve be damned—she couldn't handle this kind of comfort.

She started struggling immediately. Rosalia seemed surprised by the resistance, pausing before letting go and automatically asking something in Seraphine.

Then she caught herself—Scarlett didn't speak Seraphine—and quickly switched languages. "What's wrong, Letty?"

Hearing the question, Scarlett felt a flush of embarrassment. But she didn't hedge. She just shook her head gently. "Nothing. I'm just confused, Rosa. Why would you think I'm... pitiable?"

"You understand Seraphine?" Rosalia looked genuinely shocked.

Scarlett shook her head. "Only simple stuff."

Rosalia nodded, then continued. "Jacob told us everything he did to you. A while back, he came clean about all of it."

Scarlett blinked. She honestly hadn't expected Sebastian to share that with the Russos—especially given how distant they were from the Howard family.

Then again, in Sebastian's world, Marco and his family held an irreplaceable place.

Still, the fact that Sebastian had brought up those past events seemed... odd.

"Though I knew from the start he wasn't giving us the full story." Rosalia's voice remained bright as they continued walking. "The fact that you'd even ask that question tells me you went through something real."

Scarlett froze again. This time, warmth didn't flood her chest—instead, her nose stung with the sharp threat of tears, more intense than any other sensation.

She inhaled sharply through her nose, squeezing her eyes shut until she forced that burning ache back down.

"You asked why I'm not afraid of making him angry. My answer is this: we're family. And if we're family, why would I be scared of him getting upset?" She glanced back at Scarlett. "You're family too. You don't need to walk on eggshells."

Rosalia's words hit Scarlett's heart like an arrow weighted with stone—the impact made her chest contract, and then that weight swung gently back and forth, making her pulse stutter with each sway.

She pressed her lips together, at a complete loss for words.

After everything with Edith and Adeline, whether in Lumaria or Vesperia, Scarlett had never truly seen Sebastian as family. If anything, some part of her had recoiled from the idea.

But Rosalia's words shattered that resistance in an instant.

Scarlett stayed quiet for a moment, then muttered somewhat awkwardly, "Got it."

They didn't speak again after that. The atmosphere didn't exactly freeze over, but the lightness from before had evaporated.

By the time they reached the small sitting room, Natasha had already set out her freshly baked cookies.

Natasha was the quintessential Drovinsk Empire matron—wearing a fall-winter dress with a thick headscarf wrapped around her head. When she looked up, silver strands of hair peeked out from the edges.

"There you are."

Even after decades in Seraphim, Natasha had never bothered learning Seraphine. Her English, though, was flawless—crisp and proper.

"You must be Ms. Seymour. Come, come. Try one of my fresh cookies."

The moment she spotted Scarlett, Natasha waved her over. Her formal English might have sounded stiff from anyone else, but years had softened Natasha's voice into something genuinely warm.

"Hello, Natasha." Scarlett smiled. Though they'd never met, Marco's earlier comment made it obvious this was the woman with the cookies.

After spending the entire morning at the vineyard, Scarlett had finally started to relax.

"Natasha, where's my mother?" Rosalia followed behind Scarlett, her tone casual, like she was making small talk.

Scarlett settled onto the sofa. She found it hard to look at Rosalia now—her earlier behavior felt painfully childish in retrospect—but she also didn't know how to handle this kind of genuine kindness.

Rosalia, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected. After getting Olivia's whereabouts from Natasha, she didn't leave right away. Instead, she smiled down at Scarlett.

"Letty, wait here for me. I'll go get Mom."

Scarlett nodded her agreement.

Natasha lowered herself onto the opposite sofa. Age had clouded her eyes, made them milky and dim.

Once seated, she seemed to truly study Scarlett for the first time.

"Ms. Seymour... have we met somewhere before?"