ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond-Chapter 182: Not a monster

Chapter 182

KATYA POV

"She’s heartless, no... no, I didn’t mean that," I stammered, the words tripping over each other in my haste to take them back.

My heart felt like it was going to burst. I looked up at Nonna, searching her face for the shadow of a scold, "I shouldn’t have said that. She’s your family now. She’s... she’s the one he chose. She’s going to be the Donna. I’m sorry, Nonna. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t think I’m—"

I choked on the word. Ungrateful. Crazy. A murderer. I was terrified that by speaking the truth about Marina, I had finally severed the only thread of kindness I had left in this house.

Nonna loved Romeo. Romeo was marrying Marina. In the twisted math of this world, that meant Marina was protected, and I was the blasphemer.

"I’m just a shadow," I whispered, my forehead dropping toward the floor. "Shadows don’t have opinions. I didn’t mean to call her that. She’s just... she’s doing what she thinks is right for her house."

But the lie tasted like ash. My mind flashed back to that room, the way Marina had stood over me, the way she had ordered Gina to "discipline" me, the sheer, icy pleasure in her eyes when she saw me bleeding.

She was heartless. She was a monster wrapped in designer silk, but I couldn’t say that. Not to the woman whose grandson was putting a ring on that monster’s finger.

"Katya," Nonna said, her voice like a soft velvet blanket over the jagged edges of my panic.

"I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt Gina," I cried out, the "dark place" in my mind fighting to stay hidden.

"Something just... it just went black. One minute she was pulling my hair, and the next... the vase... I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted the pain to stop."

I didn’t tell her that for a split second, seeing Gina’s blood had felt like justice. I didn’t tell her that the "switch" inside me hadn’t just been fear. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

It had been a dormant, lethal rage that terrified me more than Romeo ever could. ’ I’m so sorry. So, So sorry." I waited for her to pull away. I waited for her to tell me that I had gone too far, that I was no longer welcome in her light

I just wanted someone—anyone—to be on my side for a moment. Even if it was a lie. Even if it was just because I was a broken thing she felt sorry for.

Nonna leaned forward as much as her chair would allow, reaching out and placing a hand on top of my bandaged head.

Her touch was warm, steadying the chaotic vibrations in my skull. "Look at me, child," she commanded softly. I lifted my head, my eyes blurry with tears.

"You did not choose to be in this war," Nonna said, her eyes piercing through my excuses.

"And as for Marina... do not lie to me to protect my grandson’s pride. I have lived in this house longer than he has been alive. I know the difference between a Queen and a vulture."

My breath hitched.

"You are not crazy, Katya," she continued, her thumb tracing the edge of the bandage on my temple.

"You are pushed. And when a person is pushed far enough into a corner, they either die or they bite. I am only glad you chose to bite." I leaned my head into her hand, a sob finally breaking free.

The weight of Nonna’s words—the validation that I wasn’t the monster I feared I was—finally shattered the last of my defenses.

The dam didn’t just leak; it burst. A jagged, ugly sob tore from my throat. I didn’t care about how I might look, wrapped in bandages. I was just a girl who had been hollowed out until there was nothing left but a scream.

"Shhh, piccola," Nonna whispered, her voice a low, melodic hum against the storm in my head.

"Cry. Let it all out. Let the salt wash away the blood." I didn’t need to be told twice. I leaned forward, my forehead coming to rest on her lap.

The tears came in a flood, hot and stinging, soaking into the expensive wool of her skirt. I cried for the girl in the yellow dress who had died in the hallway.

I cried for the father who had taught me that love was just another word for a bruise. I cried for the shadow I had become, and for the jagged piece of porcelain that felt more like a part of me than my own name.

Nonna’s hand remained on my head, her fingers stroking the hair that hadn’t been matted with blood.

She didn’t try to stop me. She didn’t tell me to be strong. She just let me be broken. "I’m so tired," I gasped between sobs, the words muffled against her knees. "I’m so tired of being afraid. I’m so tired of the fire in my back. I’m so tired of everything."

"I know," she murmured. "I know, tesoro." I stayed there for God knows how long, my body shaking with the force of my grief.

In the silence of Romeo’s room, the only sound was the wet, rhythmic hitching of my breath and the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.

Slowly, the violent tremors began to subside, leaving me hollow and lightheaded. The adrenaline that had kept me upright was gone, replaced by a crushing, soul-deep exhaustion.

My back throbbed in time with the ache in my skull, "Why don’t you lay down back on the bed?" I nodded wordlessly, having no strength as I lay on the bed without care.

"Better?" Nonna asked softly after a long time.

I didn’t have the strength to speak. I just gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod, my eyes already closing.

As long as nonna was here with me, not looking at me like a killer. I could sleep without thee fear of being hated.

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Merry Christmas

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