ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond-Chapter 139: STRANGER’S ARRIVAL

Chapter 139: STRANGER’S ARRIVAL
Chapter 139
KATYA POV
By the time I reached the third-floor hallway, my thoughts were a tangled mess—knots pulling tighter instead of loosening.
I hated that a stranger’s arrival could shake me like this. Hated that a single word—Donna—could slip under my skin and scrape something raw.
Stupid.Focus. The kitchen was just ahead.
Warm light spilled into the hall, along with the familiar noise of pans, the hum of the oven, the clatter of breakfast prep.
I pushed the door open, stepping inside just as two chefs nearly bumped into each other. A sweet smell—cinnamon, maybe honey—filled the air.
Someone was whisking eggs in a steel bowl. Another sliced fruit with quick, practiced movements.
Miss stella is no where to be found which was unusual. Her being absent wasn’t just unusual, it was wrong.
She lived in this kitchen. She was always here before sunrise, humming while stirring pots, scolding the younger chefs, making sure Nonna’s meals were perfect down to the last herb.
But now? Nothing.
Just the bustle of staff and a strange, jittery energy buzzing through the room like everyone was pretending not to rush.
I cleared my throat softly. "Excuse me... could I get a glass of water?"
A few heads turned, surprised. I didn’t blame them. I usually come here and just get what I need without asking but Miss stella was always present.
Usually Miss Stella herself practically pushed the drinks and snacks into my hands the moment I walked in.
And right now, I didn’t need anyone calling me a thief as it’s their kitchen not mine and I sure know most of the people here don’t like me.
So despite their hate I still have to be calm and polite. One of the male staff members—Paulo, I think—nodded quickly. "O-Of course, Miss Katya."
Miss Katya, ohhhh. He hurried to the counter, grabbing a clean glass. I watched him go, tapping my fingers lightly against my side, feeling the tension still lingering in my stomach.
From the corner of the room, two other cooks whispered to each other. Not loud. But not exactly quiet either.
"Is she going upstairs?"
"Yes, yes—second floor guest room. The big one."
"The big one? Already?"
"Hush! Don’t say it like that. You want trouble?" Paulo returned before I could listen any further, setting a glass of chilled water on the counter.
Paulo returned before I could listen any further, setting a glass of chilled water on the counter. "Here."
"Thank you." I reached for it—and stopped.
Paulo’s hands were shaking. Not much. Just a slight tremor. But enough to notice.
"You okay?" I asked.
His eyes darted to the doorway, then back to me. "Yes. Just... long morning."
A lie. A terrible one.
Before I could press, another chef nearly bumped into him, muttering something about being late with a breakfast tray. Breakfast tray? For who? Nonna’s had already been prepared. Romeo preferred taking his in his room.
Unless...
Unless there was someone new who needed serving. Someone important enough to put the whole kitchen in a rush.
I swallowed, keeping my expression still.
"I’ll take this up," I said, lifting the glass.
Paulo nodded, but his eyes didn’t leave the door again.
Something was going on in this house.
Something everyone seemed to know... except me.
Paulo nodded as I stepped out of the kitchen, the cool hallway air hitting my skin like a small shock.
The glass in my hand felt suddenly heavy. I started toward the staircase again, a flutter of footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor—quick, light, purposeful.
Miss Stella.
She rounded the corner, breath slightly short, her apron crooked like she’d put it on in a rush. When she saw me, she startled—like she hadn’t expected anyone there.
"Katya!" She put a hand over her chest. "You scared me. Why are you down here alone?"
"I came for water," I said simply, though her nervousness tugged at my attention. "Nonna had a bad cough."
Miss Stella’s face softened instantly. "Ah... . I’ll bring her honey tea right away."
But the softness vanished almost as quickly as it came. Her eyes flicked toward the staircase—upward.
Toward the second floor. Toward whoever just arrived. She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You should go back to Nonna, dear."
There was something in her tone—something careful, like she was tiptoeing around the truth.
"Why?" I asked.
Miss Stella didn’t answer, she just adjusted her clothes again, flustered. "Go on, sweetheart. Nonna shouldn’t stay alone right now."
There it was again—that strange urgency everyone seemed to have today. Like something was happening above us.
Something they didn’t want me anywhere near.
I nodded slowly. "Alright." Miss Stella exhaled, relieved in a way that made my stomach twist tighter.
She patted my arm once—distracted, rushed—and then hurried past me into the kitchen, already barking instructions before the door closed behind her
I stared at the closed door for a heartbeat, swallowing the unease rising in my throat. Water. Just get the water to Nonna. I turned toward the stairs and started climbing.
My steps were quiet, but my heartbeat wasn’t—it thudded unevenly, too loud in my ears. By the time I reached the second floor, I heard it.
Voices.
Soft at first, muffled by distance, but unmistakably tense. They drifted down the hallway in sharp bursts—female voices, hushed but fast, like they were trying not to be overheard while also failing miserably.
I held the glass of water a little tighter and moved forward carefully, each step measured. I didn’t want to eavesdrop... but I couldn’t help listening.
Every damn time. When I turned the corner toward Nonna’s wing, the hallway opened up and I froze.
Down the hall, near the far end, the maids were back. The same group as before.
Gina among them, leading as usual.
Only this time, they weren’t carrying luggage up the stairs. They were carrying it into a room.
A very specific room. The second-floor guest suite. The biggest one on the floor. The one across from Nonna’s.
The only room here besides Nonna’s that had a private balcony and a walk-in wardrobe.