ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond-Chapter 124: Gina&Lila

Chapter 124: Gina&Lila
Chapter 124
KATYA POV
Miss Stella blinked at me like I’d just told her Romeo sprouted wings. "Walking..." she muttered, shaking her head as if that would make the information settle properly.
Then, suddenly remembering her pot, she turned back to stir it. "Good for him. Nonna would be thrilled." Miss stella said but there wasn’t much joy in her tone
I nodded anyway, agreeing with her. Nonna would surely b thrilled, I should probably see her when she wakes. I grabbed an apron from the hook, turning back to miss stella.
Miss Stella noticed the movement and quirked a brow. "You are helping?"
"Yes," I deadpanned. "I miss helping you."
She smacked her lips at me but didn’t argue. "Fine then. Chop the onions. Thin slices. Do not butcher them like last time."
"I didn’t butcher them," I said, already reaching for the knife. "You made them cry," she returned.
"They are onions!" She waved her spoon as if dismissing my entire existence. "Excuses."
I shook my head but started slicing anyway. The kitchen was calm in a way the rest of the mansion never was — warm, steady, smelling like home and butter and a life that never involved guns or wheelchair-bound men suddenly discovering legs.
I worked quietly while Miss Stella moved around the kitchen humming that beautiful Italian song under her breath. Every now and then she’d toss an instruction my way.
"Add salt." "Not that much!"
"More stirring." "Your slices are uneven but I will pretend not to see."
It was nice though. Finally I could do something that doesn’t makes me fear for my sanity. Warmth pooled somewhere behind my ribs before I could stop it.
I wasn’t prepared for feelings so early in the morning, Both Miss stella and Nonna brings the best out of me. I wasn’t the shy or scared person around them.
Yes I’m still shy and a little anxious around Nonna but that doesn’t mean she’s any less than Miss stella. Miss Stella finished at the stove and wiped her hands on her apron.
"I need the basil from the pantry," she said. "The fresh one, not the dried! If we use the dried, I will cry."
"Noted."
She walked toward the back pantry door, muttering something about missing ingredients. I kept slicing, the faint sizzle of sautéing vegetables filling the air.
She pushed open the pantry door — then poked her head back out.
"You stay here. Do not touch the sauce while I am gone. Do not touch it, Katya." I raised a hand solemnly. "I swear on my uneven onion slices."
She squinted like she didn’t trust me for a second, then stepped fully into the pantry.
The door swung shut behind her and suddenly, the kitchen felt... too quiet.
I looked at the stove. I looked at the sauce. I looked at the spoon she had abandoned.
"I mean..." I whispered to myself. "What’s the worst that could happen?" A loud clatter sounded from the back pantry — Miss Stella probably waging war with jars again — so I turned back to the onions and pretended like I wasn’t contemplating treason against her sauce instructions.
I’d just reached for the towel to wipe my hands when the door to the hallway swung open.
Footsteps. Two pairs. I didn’t even have to look to know who it was. The air itself shifted, that subtle mix of perfume, hostility, and the unmistakable energy of girls who think they’re better.
The two maids walked in. Lila and Gina. And of course, they were together. They always were. A duo of synchronized judgment, powered by gossip and fake smiles.
They paused at the threshold, scanning the kitchen. Their gazes slid past the counters, the stove, the hanging pots — and landed on me.
Their eyes rolled so hard I briefly wondered if they’d get stuck. I didn’t react.
Why would I? I’d gotten used to it. Their whispers. Their sideways glances. The way they’d talk about me when they thought I couldn’t hear.
Calling me that girl, the outsider, the enemy’s daughter. But always behind my back.
Never in front of me.
I turned back to the cutting board, focusing on the onions. Mind your business. Chop. Breathe. Don’t stab anyone. Chop.
But today... something was off.
The girls didn’t head to their workstation on the opposite counter. They didn’t start gossiping in the corner like they usually did.
No. Their footsteps stopped right in front of me. I stilled.
Knife halfway through an onion.
Slowly, I looked up — and saw both of them standing there, blocking the counter, blocking my air, blocking my entire peaceful-morning energy.
Their expressions? Not the usual passive-aggressive glances.
No. Today, they looked... bold. The kind of bold that said they woke up and chose stupidity for breakfast.
I raised a brow. "...Can I help you?" One of the girls — Gina, the one who always spoke first because Lila only grew a personality when she stood behind someone — crossed her arms.
"Why are you here?" she asked, her voice dripping with that fake sweetness she used when she was about to be terrible.
"Shouldn’t you be sucking off Mr. Salvatore? You always act like you mouth is glued to his cock."
I was flabbergasted at her words. They were so disgusting to even think but her friend snorted. "Yeah."
I inhaled slowly through my nose. Calm. Calm. Calm. Miss Stella will return. These girls are just trying to find someone to bully and too bad for them. I wasn’t the person.
I still I Romeo to worry about. Those girls are no match to what I put up with that man. I went back to slicing, refusing to bite.
But they didn’t stop.
Gina leaned a little closer, voice lowering like she was sharing something scandalous. "I heard about your little... meltdown," she said, tilting her head.
"Crying in that room. Saying something about how you’re ’not a killer.’" My knife paused mid-slice. That was age’s ago. When Miss stella said she had found me in a room, slicing my wrist like a lunatic.
Why were they bringing that up. Lila stepped up beside her, eyes bright with the thrill of gossip. "It made me curious," she said softly. "Who did you kill?"