ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond-Chapter 125: Invisible

Chapter 125: Invisible
Chapter 125
KATYA POV
My jaw tightened. Oh, I had the perfect comeback sitting right on my tongue — something along the lines of "if you don’t shut up, I swear you’ll be the one I kill."
Not literal. I mean I was bluffing but with what they think of me? That would put them back in their place.
I opened my mouth but the pantry door swung open with the force of divine intervention.
Miss Stella marched back into the kitchen, basil in hand, muttering angrily at whatever chaos she had just survived in there. "Who stacked the jars like this?."
The two maids jerked back so fast you’d think she was holding a holy relic instead of herbs. Miss Stella didn’t even look at them at first — she went straight to the stove, checked her sauce, then froze mid–stir.
Her eyes slid to me. Then to the girls.
Then back to me. Her brows narrowed.
"What," she said slowly, "is going on here?"
Lila and Gina straightened immediately, they knew not to mess around with the head maid because apparently miss Stella had the power to fire them.
"Nothing, Miss Stella," Gina said quickly, fake sweetness dripping all over the tile floor. "We were just—" Lila started.
But Miss Stella raised one finger. They both shut up instantly.
She didn’t yell. She just stared at them with that flat, unimpressed, motherly disappointment that could make a grown man confess to crimes he didn’t commit.
"If you two are done loitering," she said calmly, "you have work. Not here. Somewhere that is not near my stove. Or my counters. Or my ingredients."
The girls exchanged a look, swallowed whatever insult they were dying to toss, and skittered out of the kitchen like roaches hearing footsteps.
The door shut behind them and I exhaled, shoulders dropping.
Miss Stella turned back to me. "Katya," she said.
"Yes?" I answered, bracing for something.
She pointed her spoon at me. "Do not let children with empty heads bother you before breakfast. I refuse to season food with bad attitudes." My lips twitched despite myself. "Noted."
She nodded, satisfied, and went back to stirring her sauce like nothing had happened. I picked up my knife again.
The onions suddenly felt lighter. Miss Stella hummed her song once more.
The kitchen settled back into rhythm, like nothing happened — the only proof of that stupid encounter being the faint echo of their shoes retreating down the room
Miss Stella tasted the sauce, nodded, then handed me another chopping board.
"Pepper," she ordered. "Thin slices. Try not to massacre them."
"I don’t massacre vegetables," I muttered. "You massacre everything," she replied without missing a beat.
More maids began to trickle in. All of them going straight to their morning duties. Setting plates, arranging cutlery, portioning pastries, warming bread.
Everyone fell into places and of course, Miss Stella was the conductor.
"Maria, check the bread."
"Carla, lower that heat before you burn the eggs." It was loud, busy, chaotic but it was the good kind of chaos.
The kind that made the mansion feel alive rather than dangerous. I moved around the kitchen helping wherever Miss Stella pointed.
Passing ingredients. Stirring. Carrying bowls. Sliding finished plates to the counter. Eventually, the first trolley was brought out. Polished, silver, and stacked with neatly arranged breakfast dishes.
Then another. And another. The kitchen smelled like heaven. "Katya, pass me that cloth," Miss Stella said.
I did.
"Now help them load the pastries," she added, waving at the group pushing the trolley toward the hall.
I nodded and helped transfer trays, adjusting plates, shifting things so nothing would spill. When everything was ready, the maids started pushing the trolleys toward the dining room.
I stepped back immediately. Nope.
No, thank you.
Absolutely not.
The moment the hallway came into view, my feet stopped moving. Because I knew exactly what waited in the dining room.
Miss Red.
Her perfect hair. Her perfect smirk. Her perfect attitude problem. I wasn’t dealing with that before breakfast. Or ever.
The maids continued forward, wheels squeaking softly across the floor. I stayed planted near the counter like I was fused to it.
Miss Stella turned just as she handed off the final tray. Her eyes narrowed. "Katya," she called. "Why are you standing there like someone nailed your shoes to the tiles? Go with them."
"I—" I don’t know what to say.
Think damn it!
"I actually... I need to check on Nonna." I blurted, waving my hands a little too fast.
Miss Stella blinked. "Nonna? Now?"
"Yes," I said quickly. "Very now. Extremely now. I. I haven’t seen her since last night and she might be awake and, um... confused. Or lonely. Or—"
"Its still morning" she said slowly, "She might just be waking up or not. Would she suddenly be lonely?"
I firmly nodded. "Yes." She stared at me for a long second like she was scanning my soul for lies.
I smiled. Innocently. Probably suspiciously. Then finally
— finally —
she sighed.
"Fine. Go check on her," she said, pointing her spoon at me again. "But come back. I haven’t had you to my for long."
"I’ll be quick," I said, already backing toward the hallway opposite the dining room.
Miss Stella turned back to the stove. I turned the other way entirely, heart thumping with relief.
Anything
— literally anything —
was better than walking into that room and dealing with Miss Red this morning or in the life.
I slipped out of the kitchen, hugging the wall like a suspicious criminal trying to avoid a laser alarm system.
The hallway was quiet which meant either everyone was already gathered for breakfast
I glanced toward the elevator. If I took it upstairs, I could get straight to Nonna’s room, pretend I’d been busy caregiving all morning, and avoid being dragged back to the breakfast chaos where certain red‑haired demons existed.
"Okay," I whispered to myself. "In and out. Fast. Quiet. Invisible."
I turned toward the elevator and the elevator dinged.
My soul left my body. The doors slid open in slow motion, dramatic and disrespectful, and stepping out was exactly the nightmare I did
NOT
want to face.
Miss Red. In heels.
In a tight red dress. With red hair.
With that walk.
With that face.
And now with tat hand.
I didn’t even think.
I dove
— literally dived —
behind the decorative plant sitting beside the hallway pillar. The plant was not nearly big enough to hide a whole human being, but I folded myself like a cursed creation and prayed.
Dear universe, please render me invisible.
Or blend me with the leaves.
Or let Miss Red suddenly lose the ability to see colors so she overlooks me entirely.
Miss Red stepped fully into the hallway, her heels clicking sharply. She paused right in front of the elevator as if sensing the presence of someone who disliked her.
My lungs stopped working. She turned her head...My heart dropped.....
And then....She kept walking.
Past the plant.
Past me.
Straight toward the dining room.
I didn’t move until she was completely out of sight, and even then, I only exhaled when her heels faded into total silence.
"Thank you," I whispered to the plant.
I don’t know which deity was listening, but I didn’t care.
Only when I was certain she was gone did I straighten, dust off the imaginary leaves clinging to me, and tiptoe the rest of the way to the elevator.