ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond-Chapter 191: Movie

Chapter 191

KATYA POV

We reached the elevator together, nonna maneuvering herself inside with practiced ease, turning the wheelchair neatly as if she’d done this a thousand times—which she had.

I stepped in after her, standing to the side, one hand instinctively bracing against the wall as the doors closed.

The elevator began its descent. I glanced down at her, at the way her posture remained proud even seated, her chin lifted, her eyes sharp with intent

"Where exactly are we going?" I asked carefully. She pressed the button again, just to be sure. "Somewhere comfortable. Somewhere with a proper screen."

The elevator chimes as the doors opened.

Fourth floor. It took half a second for recognition to hit me.

Then my breath caught. The hallway beyond was wide and softly lit, the walls lined with muted gold accents and dark wood.

The spa.

The gym.

The indoor pool.

And....My eyes widened.

The cinema room.

How could I have forgotten?

The realization bubbled up suddenly, bright and warm, chasing away the heaviness that had clung to me all day.

I remembered overhearing the maids whisper about it when they thought no one important was listening.

A private cinema. Seats that reclined like clouds. A screen so large it felt like stepping into another world.

I hadn’t seen it. I’d never been allowed this far. My life since being dragged into this house had moved too fast—pain stacked on pain, fear blurring the edges of everything else.

There hadn’t been room for wonder. Until now.

I looked at Nonna, my steps faltering slightly as excitement crept into my chest, light and unfamiliar. "Nonna," I breathed, unable to stop myself, "this floor—"

She smiled without looking at me. Not a small smile. A knowing one.

"Yes," she said simply. "This one."

Joy sparked fully then, bright and almost dizzying. I hugged my arms to myself, afraid if I didn’t, it might spill out in a laugh or something embarrassingly close to tears.

A cinema.

For someone who had never seen a movie, never sat in the dark surrounded by a story bigger than her own pain, it felt like magic waiting just beyond the hall.

Nonna wheeled forward, turning down a corridor that grew darker the farther we went. The lights dimmed automatically, softening the space.

My heart thudded faster with every step. This wasn’t survival. This wasn’t endurance. This was something gentle.

Something good.

Nonna stopped in front of a wide, matte-black door that blended almost seamlessly into the wall. If I hadn’t been following her, I might have missed it entirely.

She reached forward and pressed a discreet panel. The door slid open silently. I froze.

The room beyond swallowed sound and light in the most breathtaking way.

The cinema was vast, larger than I’d imagined, stretching out like a quiet cathedral built for stories instead of prayers.

The walls were layered in deep charcoal and black panels, textured to absorb sound. Soft LED strips traced the floor and ceiling, glowing faintly like starlight, just enough to guide without intruding.

The screen dominated the far wall—immense, pristine, waiting. It felt less like a television and more like a window into somewhere else entirely.

Rows of black leather seats stepped down toward the screen, each wide and plush, designed to recline at the touch of a button.

They looked impossibly comfortable, like something meant for kings or people who had never slept on cold concrete floors.

I swallowed.

Nonna rolled in beside me and snorted softly. "Of course," she muttered, surveying the darkness with thinly veiled judgment. "Black. Black walls. Black seats. That boy turned the entire room into a cave."

I blinked, then glanced at her. "Mr Salvatore?"

"Who else?" she scoffed. "As if light personally offended him. No one asked my opinion, of course. He decided darkness was... dramatic."

Despite myself, a small laugh escaped my lips—quiet but real. It startled me enough that I clamped my mouth shut, cheeks warming.

Nonna noticed anyway. Her mouth twitched in satisfaction. She wheeled forward, stopping near the center row.

"This one," she said, gesturing toward a seat with a slight tilt of her head. "Good view. Not too close. Not too far."

I stepped in front of her automatically. "Let me—" I caught myself, remembering her warning. "I mean... can I help you settle?"

She gave me a look, then relented with a sigh. "Fine. Slowly."

Careful of my back, I steadied the chair while she transferred herself, settling into the wide black seat like she belonged there.

Once seated, she tested the armrest, pressed a button, and watched approvingly as the chair reclined a fraction.

"Hmph," she said. "At least he bought decent furniture."

I smiled and moved to the seat beside hers, lowering myself gingerly. The leather was cool beneath my fingers, smooth and unfamiliar.

When I leaned back, the chair cradled me in a way I wasn’t used to—supportive, gentle, as if it expected comfort instead of endurance.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

The room dimmed further as the door slid shut behind us, sealing us inside the quiet. It felt safe. Enclosed. Like the rest of the world had been politely asked to wait outside.

I glanced sideways at Nonna. She was already comfortable, "What genre would you like to watch?" she asked, fingers already hovering near the sleek control panel built into her armrest.

I frowned slightly. Genre?

She turned to look at me, then paused, really looked—and something in her expression softened with understanding.

"Ah," she said gently. "Of course. I forget sometimes." Then she waved her hand. "It just means the kind of story you want."

She began listing them off, counting lightly on her fingers. "Romance. Horror. Comedy. Action. Drama. Sometimes they mix."

I went still at a few of those words.

Horror.

Action.

My chest tightened almost reflexively. I didn’t need monsters or explosions. I’d lived enough of both.

Fear had never been entertainment for me—it had been survival. Pain. Waiting for the next hit. The next scream.

I swallowed and shifted slightly in my seat, the leather whispering beneath me.Romance sounded... strange. Distant. Like something meant for other people.

But not unpleasant. Comedy, though—that word sparked something warmer. Lighter. Laughter without consequences. Smiles that didn’t have to be earned or defended.

I glanced at the massive screen, imagining colors and voices filling it, imagined myself getting lost in something that didn’t hurt.

"I think..." I hesitated, then said it softly, like I was testing the shape of it. "Comedy."

Nonna raised a brow. "Only comedy?"

I thought about it for another second. About sweetness. About hope. About something gentle enough not to scare me, but meaningful enough to matter.

"With romance," I added quickly. "If that’s... allowed."

A smile bloomed on Nonna’s face—slow, approving, victorious.

"A romantic comedy," she declared. "Excellent choice."

Relief loosened my shoulders.

"It’s joyful," I murmured, mostly to myself. "And... sweet."

Nonna heard anyway. She always did.

"Yes," she said, her voice softer now. "Everyone deserves sweet. Especially you."

She turned back to the panel, scrolling through options with practiced ease. Titles flickered briefly across a smaller auxiliary screen beside her seat—names I didn’t recognize, worlds I’d never stepped into.

Finally, she stopped.

"This one," she said decisively, pressing play.

The lights dimmed even further, the soft glow along the floor fading until the room was wrapped in a comfortable twilight.

The massive screen came alive, colors blooming across it, music swelling gently through hidden speakers.

I startled just a little at the sound, then relaxed as it settled around me—not loud, not sharp. Inviting.

The chair hummed softly as it reclined another inch, and I let myself sink into it, hands resting loosely in my lap.

This was new.

No fear. No orders. No waiting for pain.

Just a story.

*††

I know I know, y’all might say what’s the meaning of this movie shit but it’s crucial for the story lol.

Thanks for reading