ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond-Chapter 190: Fear

Chapter 190

ROMEO POV

Five days.

That was how long it had been since I’d allowed myself anywhere near Katya.

Not the halls.

Not even the same wing of the house unless it was unavoidable.

I sat behind my desk, the weight of the mansion pressing in on me from all sides, the glass walls of my office reflecting a man I barely recognized.

The room was quiet. No meetings. No interruptions. Just the steady control I’d built my life around.

But still, I couldn’t focus. My attention kept drifting back to that night.

I hadn’t planned to see her. I’d only gone into the room to change clothes, to wash the blood off my hands and pretend that what had happened hadn’t shaken something loose inside me.

She was supposed to be asleep. it was late at night. But she wasn’t.

Her eyes had snapped open as soon as my hands touched her head. Fear.

Not of the room.

Not of the pain.

Of me.

I’d frozen.

I didn’t even remember deciding to move closer. I just knew I was suddenly there, standing beside her bed, staring down at the bandages wrapped around her head like they were my fault. Maybe they were.

I still didn’t know what possessed me to touch her. My fingers had barely brushed her hair, careful, restrained—nothing invasive, nothing I couldn’t justify as checking her condition.

And yet it had felt like crossing a line I’d sworn never to approach. I clenched my jaw now, hands flattening against the polished surface of the desk.

Weakness. That was what it was.

Touching her had been a mistake. Looking at her had been a mistake. Allowing myself to linger in that room longer than necessary had been the biggest mistake of all.

So I’d stayed away.

I’d ordered it—indirectly, carefully. Guards repositioned. Schedules adjusted. Routes changed so our paths would never cross.

I’d avoided Nonna too. Not deliberately at first. It had started as coincidence—missed breakfasts, meetings rescheduled, corridors taken a second too late.

But after the third time her sharp gaze found me anyway, I stopped pretending. Every time we crossed paths, she looked at me like I’d failed something sacred.

No words. No lectures.

Just that look.

Resentment didn’t sit naturally on Nonna’s face. I’d grown up knowing her as unshakable, calm, kind, principled, stern but fair.

She had always been my constant—my shield when my parents were gone, my compass when power blurred lines it shouldn’t.

And now?

Now her eyes held disappointment so heavy it felt like accusation. I knew exactly why.

That decision.

The one I’d made when Katya had been dragged back half-conscious, bloodied, barely breathing.

When Marina stood there, composed and untouchable, while her maid watched like it was nothing more than a lesson carried out properly.

I’d chosen control over justice. Containment over confrontation.

I’d told myself it was strategy. That confronting Marina publicly would destabilize the house, fracture alliances, invite chaos I couldn’t afford.

Nonna had screamed at me that night. She had pleaded, begging me desperately to get Marina out of our lives.

She’d stayed beside Katya’s bed, her hands shaking, her eyes filling with tears but I still refused her request.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the glass wall of my office. From here, I could see almost everything—the garden paths, the gates, the people moving below like pieces on a board I’d learned to control too well.

Power was supposed to make things simpler.

It didn’t. For the first time, I wondered—truly wondered—what Nonna would do if forced to choose.

The thought hit harder than I expected.

She would choose Katya.

I exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over my face. I hadn’t slept properly since that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw bandages. Blood. The way Katya’s breath had stuttered when she realized I was there.

I rose from my chair and turned toward the glass wall overlooking the grounds below. The garden stretched out beneath me, orderly and beautiful and deceptive.

That was when I saw her.

Katya sat beneath the tree, small against the stone bench, her posture deceptively calm. From this distance, she looked almost at peace.

Almost.

I watched her longer than I should have.

She tilted her face toward the sky, eyes closed, like she was trying to convince herself she was safe.

My chest tightened.She shouldn’t be here.

But yet, every attempt I tried to send her away ended the same way—with resistance, with doubts, with consequences.

What if all these was a lie, what if both she and her father planned all these? I mean he’s not dead and he ad trained killing Katya when I used her as bait. Was. this all planned?

I shifted closer to the glass without realizing it. Her white curly hair flowing with the wind. If I let her, would it be for the best? But what would my enemies think? What would I look like?

Different scenarios played. across my head, I want to make a choice that could cost me my entire life, Her family cannot be trusted. Sh might look innocent, everything might look aas if it’s the truth but people could pretend.

They could lie for years just to have their end goal. My eyes watched when she opened her eyes.

Slowly and looked up. Straight at my office.

I stilled. For a heartbeat, I thought she couldn’t see me. The glass was designed that way, one-sided, reflective, impenetrable.

Then her body went rigid. And I knew.

She felt me. I stepped back instinctively the reflection swallowed my shape again, turning me into nothing more than another shadow in a room full of them.

I had no right to watch her.

No right to want to protect her.

No right to care whether she broke or survived.

And yet, five days later, here I was—standing in the dark, pretending distance was the same thing as control.

It wasn’t. It was fear.

And that was the one thing I could never afford.