ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond-Chapter 135: HALF MONSTER

Chapter 135: HALF MONSTER
Chapter 135
ROMEO POV
The water hit my shoulders in steady, heavy drops. Hot enough to sting, but not enough to burn.
Steam curled around me, fogging the glass and rising in thick waves, but it didn’t drown out my thoughts.
Nothing could.
I dragged a hand through my hair, pushing it back, and my gaze flicked up, straight into the mirror outside the shower.
Even through the fogged glass, the image was impossible to ignore.
Half of my face, raw lines filled with burnt scars, the reminder of hot iron rod that never fully healed.
The other half perfectly flawless with just a little healing bruise from yesterday. Two versions of me staring back.
The one the world feared. And the one I tried to forget. I didn’t know why I kept looking.
Maybe because I’d spent years avoiding the sight. Maybe because Nonna’s words from yesterday still clung to me like ashes.
"Non voglio perderti come ho perso mio figlio."
I don’t want to lose you like my son.
Her voice echoed in the back of my skull, softer now but heavier somehow. Like it had settled into the bones instead of just the mind.
I exhaled sharply and leaned one hand against the tiled wall, letting the water run over the scars.
Yesterday... was....yesterday was hell. I’d snapped. She’d broken. And I’d fallen to my knees like a child begging not to be left behind.
I hated that memory. I hated how real it was.
I hated how much it hurt to see her like that. I closed my eyes, letting the water trail down my neck, over my shoulders.
My body still felt sore from the morning before—bruises from the fight, blood dried beneath my nails, ghost aches in my ribs.
I had tracked down where that bastard boris was. Going over there to just kill him once and for all. But see my nonna consistent call I thought she was in trouble or something and that was the moment that bastard escaped.
But none of that compared to the way my chest twisted when I remembered Nonna crying.
I’d seen a lot of things in my life—worse things than most people can imagine. But nothing, nothing, rattled me like seeing her break.
I tilted my head back, letting the water soak my hair more. I just needed... silence or something close to it.
But silence didn’t come. Not when her words kept replaying. I buried my son... I can’t lose you.
I gritted my teeth, fingers curling against the wall. Part of me wanted to be angry. To push the guilt away.
To pretend I didn’t care as much as she thought. But the truth was uglier.
I did care and that made everything dangerous.
For her. Nonna thinks I don’t give a shit about her but that old hag was the only thing I have in this fucked up word. She’s my only weakness.
Which I so desperately don’t need, my father was weak. I’m not. Not after what I experienced. Not after him being to good fr his own good. He had a good heart. I don’t.
And I don’t intend to get but shit!
My nonna is like the strongest woman in the world. She barely snapped. Always calm even with me. Seeing her like that.....I knew I really fucked up.
So when she had asked if me to find someone at least to build a family, I agreed in an instant. just wanted her to be happy but I knew that old hag would hold me to my word and I don’t break my word.
But who the fuck would I be with. Who would even want to be with someone crazy like me.
I shut the water off with a sharp click that echoed too loudly in the marble bathroom.
Silence rushed in as I stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and running it over my face, down my neck, across the bruises still darkening along my ribs..
Each one pulsed with memory. Each one reminded me of everything I didn’t have the luxury to forget.
I wrapped the towel loosely around my waist and pushed open the glass door, stepping into the colder air of my bedroom.
It bit at my skin, raising goosebumps along the unburnt side of my face. My reflection caught me again.
The full mirror across the room, tall enough to show everything, honest enough not to look away.
Half the monster. Half the man. I stared at myself for a long moment, jaw tightening.
"Non voglio perderti come ho perso mio figlio."
I don’t want to lose you like I lost my son.
Her voice whispered through my head again, clearer now that nothing drowned it out. "Damn it, Nonna..." I dragged a hand down my face.
For fuck sakes, I wasn’t built for this kind of emotional mess. Give me a fight, give me blood, give me a chase and I’ll win.
But give me her tears? Her shaking hands? Her grief? I didn’t know what to do with that.
I walked toward the dresser, each step slow, heavy, the towel brushing against my legs. My mind refused to stop running circles.
Nonna’s cracked voice.Her trembling.Her apology. Her fear. It all stuck to me like a second skin.
I opened the drawer, grabbed the black shirt folded on top but didn’t put it on yet. Just held it.
"Find someone," she’d said. "Build a family."
As if it was easy. I scoffed under my breath, shaking my head.
A family? Me? Who the hell would want someone with hands like mine? With a face half destroyed? With a temper that could flatten a room and a job that could end me any night?
I pulled in a slow breath. The truth was simpler than all that.
I didn’t deserve a family. Not after everything I’ve done. Not after everything I’ve seen.
But Nonna...
She believed I could have one. That was the part I didn’t know what to do with.
She didn’t deserve to cry like she did yesterday.
She didn’t deserve to lose sleep because of me.
And she definitely didn’t deserve my half-controlled rage snapping at her the way it did.
I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the ache settle in deeper.
Yeah, I messed up.
And today...
I had to fix it somehow.
Even if fixing things wasn’t something I was good at. I glanced at the mask sitting on the bedside table.
its slick surface cold and sharp under the dim light. Half my face.
Half my life.
Everything I built. Everything I can’t escape.
"Who the hell would even want this?" I muttered to myself, dressing into the black shirt and dark slacks next to it.
I pulled the fabric over my shoulders, buttoning it in quick, practiced motions. Black always felt easier—less to look at, less to think about.
At less to spot the blood stains, It covered bruises, hid tension, matched the mood I usually lived in.
I tightened the cuffs, smoothed the shirt down, and reached for my mask. It sat exactly where I’d left it, angled toward the ceiling like it was mocking me.
Like it knew I couldn’t walk out that door without it. I picked it up by the edges, fingers brushing the familiar ridges, the cool, carved surface fitted perfectly to the ruined half of my face.
The world saw a monster. A name. A reputation. Nonna saw her grandson. And yesterday... she’d looked at me like she was watching a second funeral.