ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond-Chapter 221: Still protective

Chapter 221

KATYA POV

Nonna didn’t waste time. "Well, Who are you?"

Her voice cut clean through the noise of the food court. No softness. No accusation. Just expectation.

I knew—we all knew—the question wasn’t meant for me. But my mouth opened anyway.

"His name is Michael," All eyes shifted to me.

"He’s..." I hesitated, the pause stretching too long to be natural. My fingers curled in my lap. "He was—"

I swallowed. "A friend." I didn’t know if it was true. I didn’t know if it had ever been true. I didn’t even know if he had thought of me that way, or if I’d just been something familiar, something he’d assumed would always be there.

Friend.

Michael’s eyes flicked to mine, something unreadable passing through them. Surprise, maybe. Or hurt.

Nonna noticed. She noticed everything. "A friend," she repeated slowly, like she was testing the weight of the word. Then her gaze shifted back to him, unblinking.

"Then perhaps you would like to explain why you felt entitled to grab my granddaughter like she was something you could claim."

My chest tightened. I glanced at Michael, panic fluttering low in my ribs. This wasn’t the conversation I’d wanted. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to happen.

Michael inhaled slowly, like he was steadying himself. And I wasn’t sure which of us I was more afraid of hearing speak.

"With all due respect," he said, looking straight at nonna , his tone controlled but strained, "I didn’t grab her because I felt entitled."

Nonna’s expression didn’t change. "I grabbed her because I was shocked," he continued.

"Because I thought I was seeing a ghost." His gaze full shifted to me then and my stomach dropped.

"I’ve been searching...searching for her for months," he said.

"Months." The word echoed in my head.

Searching. His eyes never swayed from mine "You don’t just forget someone disappearing like that," he went on. "Not after everything."

Nonna’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she stayed silent, allowing him to speak. That alone felt dangerous.

Michael leaned forward, his voice lowering, losing some of its control. "Do you know how it felt," he asked me, not accusing, just raw, "to watch a man threaten someone right in front of you?"

My breath caught. Images flared unbidden—suits, blood, the sound of a body hitting the floor—but I shoved them back down before they could surface.

"Do you know how it felt," he continued, "to wake up in a room with a dead body and police lights flooding the windows?"

The food court noise blurred. The clatter of trays, the laughter, the music overhead—it all faded into a dull hum.

"They thought it was me," he said quietly. "I didn’t even understand what was happening yet. One minute I was trying to process what I’d seen... the next, I was being questioned like I was a criminal."

My hands trembled in my lap. I hadn’t known. I hadn’t known any of it. I didn’t even thought of him after being captured. I didn’t even think how he would feel after being knocked out.

"And all I could think," he added, his voice rough now, "was that you were gone. No calls. No messages. Nothing. Like you’d been erased or worse killed"

His eyes searched my face again, desperate and exhausted. "So yes," he said softly, "I reacted. Because for a second, I thought I was losing my mind.".

I stared at Michael, my chest aching, guilt pressing down so hard it hurt to breathe. I wanted to explain but explain what exactly.

My vision blurred before I realized I was crying.

It wasn’t loud. There was no sob, no dramatic break. Just a quiet betrayal as tears slipped free, trailing down my cheeks one after the other, warm and unstoppable.

"I’m... I’m sorry," I whispered. The words felt useless the moment they left my mouth. Sorry for disappearing? Sorry for getting kidnapped? Sorry for all the things you went through because of my cursed life? 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

Michael’s chair scraped back sharply, before I could even react, he was on his feet and then he was in front of me.

He dropped down without hesitation, right there on the food court floor, ignoring the stares, the noise, the world.

His hands came up to my shoulders, grounding in a way that made my chest cave in. "Hey...Hey....no. It’s alright."

I shook my head, tears falling faster now. My shoulders trembled under his grip. "I should’ve—" My voice cracked. "I should’ve said something. I should’ve—" I should have told them about Romeo, about my family, about my escape.

It was all my fault. "Katya," he interrupted softly, forcing my gaze up to his. His eyes were red too, though he hadn’t let anything fall. "Stop. You’re here. That’s what matters."

He searched my face like he was memorizing it again, like he needed to reassure himself I was real. "Just—" he hesitated, then glanced briefly toward Nonna, who was watching us with a now calm expression. "Just tell me something."

His eyes came back to mine, intense but pleading. "She isn’t a threat, right?" My breath hitched.

"This woman," he continued carefully, "she’s not someone who’s going to hurt you." Nonna stiffened slightly, clearly displeased at being discussed like an unknown variable.

The guard shifted his weight a few steps away, alert. "I swear to you," Michael said, his voice dropping even lower, like a vow meant only for me, "if there is even the smallest chance you’re in danger—"

His grip tightened just a fraction, not painful. Protective. "I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out," he said. "To keep you safe. This time, I won’t fail."

That did it.

A sob tore free before I could stop it. My hands came up, fisting into the fabric of his jacket like it was the only solid thing left in the world.

He was still the same. Still kind, still Caring, Still willing to throw himself into fire without asking how badly it would burn him.

Still trying to save me.

††

Trust the process 🥲