ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond-Chapter 137: COUGH

Chapter 137: COUGH
Chapter 137
KATYA POV
A few days had passed, but the memory of that afternoon in the courtyard still clung to me like a shadow I couldn’t shake off.
Not the crying. Not the shouting.
Not even Romeo dropping to his knees.
It was the way they disappeared together... and how I stayed behind. But I didn’t let myself think about it too much. Not out loud anyway.
The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of Nonna’s room, turning the polished floor warm and golden. I stood behind her wheelchair, adjusting the blanket over her knees.
She’d been quieter these past few days gentler, softer around the edges. Less commanding general, more tired grandmother. But she still insisted on our routine.
"Slowly, dear," she murmured as I began to push her toward the balcony. "My bones are arguing with the morning again."
Her voice was light, almost teasing, but the weariness underneath it was impossible to miss.
"Yes, Nonna," I said softly.I had grown used to this room. The lavender scent. The shelves filled with framed pictures of people whose smiles echoed lives I didn’t know.
Men in suits. Women in elegant dresses. A little boy who looked so much like Romeo did now.
Her son. Romeo’s father.
Nonna’s sigh broke my thoughts. "You’ve been quiet these past days."
I stiffened. "Just tired."
"Hmm." She didn’t believe me. She always heard more than I wanted her to.
We reached the balcony, and I positioned her chair toward the railing. Birds hopped along the stone ledge, fluttering away when Nonna lifted her hand as if greeting them.
The breeze brushed against my face, cool and sweet, carrying the faint scent of citrus from the orchard. I tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her shoulder.
Nonna tapped the armrest gently. "Sit, mia cara. Don’t hover around like your a stranger here."
My heart skipped—just once—but I forced a small smile and pulled out the chair beside her. My hands felt awkward as I smoothed my palms on my cloths before sitting down.
I tried to relax my shoulders, but they stayed tight, my spine too straight.Nonna noticed.
Of course she did.
"How is your day going?" she asked, turning her head toward me. Her eyes were warm and curious—too perceptive for my comfort.
"You came in looking like someone stole your favorite pastry." I huffed a tiny breath, something almost like a laugh. "I’m fine. Really."
"Mmm," she hummed knowingly. "You say that like a girl who is... how do you say... definitely not fine." I pressed my lips together. Not too tightly but just enough to stop whatever truth was trying to rise.
Nonna didn’t push. Instead, she angled herself slightly toward me, mischief slipping into her voice. "You know..." she said, "now that Romeo is walking again, I fear he may have lost his best assistant."
My chest went stiff. I was extremely grateful for these past few days when me and Romeo hadn’t crossed part that I had forgotten that I was even his assistant at one point.
I really hope nonna isn’t planning on me doing any chores that makes me near him.
"So," she continued lightly, "does this mean you are no longer his assistant? Or will he still order you around simply because he enjoys it?"
As if it wasn’t your idea, I wanted to say at her joke but it landed in my stomach like a stone. I swallowed before answering. "I... I don’t really know."
Nonna chuckled softly, patting my hand. "Ah, that boy. He has always been dramatic. Even as a child he would limp around the house pretending to be injured just so his mother would fuss over him."
The image was... strangely sweet. But it didn’t loosen the knot inside me. I felt her eyes on me again.
I forced myself to keep my expression neutral, relaxed even. I didn’t want her reading the thoughts twisting through my mind. Thoughts I hated.
Thoughts about where I stood. About who I was to her. Or... who I wasn’t.
Because sitting beside her now, in this quiet warm space, I couldn’t stop remembering the truth.
She loved Romeo. Romeo was her blood. Her family. Her last thread of the son she lost.
And me... I was none of that. If something ever forced her to choose—if lines were ever drawn—where would that leave me?
A tremor ran through my fingers. I hid my hands in my lap. "Katya," Nonna said suddenly, her voice softer than silk, "you have gone quiet again."
I blinked hard and looked up. "Sorry. Just—thinking."
"About what?" she asked gently.Her tone wasn’t demanding. It wasn’t commanding. It was concerned.
And somehow that only made my throat tighter. "I’m fine," I said again, trying to smile. "Really."
A lie. But a safer one.
Nonna studied me for a long moment, her eyes tracing something I didn’t want her to see. Then she nodded slowly, as if storing her questions for later.
"Alright," she said softly. "I will not pry. But..." Her hand reached out, resting lightly on mine. "You do not have to be made of stone around me, cara. You know that, yes?" I held still.
Perfectly still. Because the warmth of her hand... Because her kindness... Because the softness in her voice...
It all made me feel more guilty about my stupid and selfish thoughts. But before I could answer her—before I could even decide if I wanted to answer her—something caught my eye.
Movement at the gates of the estate. A slick white car glided through the gates, so polished the sunlight bounced off it like a knife.
Not one of the usual security vehicles. Not one of the armored SUVs. Something... different.
My head turned slightly. I didn’t want to make it obvious, but my attention wasn’t on Nonna anymore. It was on that car.
Nonna followed my gaze almost instantly. "Mm?" she hummed softly. "Chi è... who might that be?"
We both watched the car roll across the driveway, slowing near the front steps. It was elegant, expensive, unfamiliar.
Nonna squinted a little, then huffed lightly. "Perhaps Romeo has... company." She said it casually but underneath there was an irritated noise and before I could say anything about it, she broke into a sharp and sudden cough.
Her body jolted with it. Her hand gripped the armrest. Her shoulders shook. "Nonna?" I leaned forward immediately. "Nonna, what’s wrong—?"
She waved a hand weakly, trying to brush it off, but another cough cut her off—deeper this time, rougher. Panic pricked under my skin.
"Hold on—" I stood, scanning the balcony table, the small dresser, the side table next to her bed. "Where’s your water?"
She always kept a glass nearby. Always.
But today... nothing.