ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond

Chapter 279: The son returns.

Chapter 278

KATYA POV

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

Romeo. The name didn’t even form properly in my mind—it just existed, heavy and sudden, like something that had been buried and forced its way back to the surface.

He shouldn’t have been here. Not tonight. Not like this. Six months. Six months without seeing him, without hearing his voice, without feeling the quiet pressure of his presence in the background of my life.

And now he was standing in the middle of the driveway like he had never left at all.

Like he belonged here.

Like I hadn’t spent months trying to learn how to exist without him. The night felt different suddenly. Colder. Tighter. The air that had felt calm moments ago pressed against my lungs, shallow and difficult.

Romeo looked the same. That was the first thing that hit me.

Same sharp lines. Same controlled movements. Same dark mask on his face. Same dark suit sitting perfectly on him like it had been tailored around authority itself. His posture was relaxed—but it wasn’t ease.

It was control. Everything about him was control. My fingers curled slightly at my sides without me meaning them to.

The convoy behind him shut down quietly, doors closing, engines dying one by one. Men moved around the perimeter, efficient and silent, like this was routine.

Like his presence anywhere automatically reshaped the space around him.

My eyes were locked on his. The weight of his gaze settled over me, moving over me once from head to toe.

I suddenly became painfully aware of the dress.

Red.

Fitted. Chiara’s choice. Michael’s evening. The realization burned up my neck.

I swallowed. Don’t react. Don’t shrink. Don’t give him that. Six months ago, I would have stepped back already.

Tonight, my feet stayed where they were.

Romeo closed the car door himself. The sound was soft, controlled—but it felt final, like something had just locked into place.

Then he started walking toward me.

Slow.

Measured.

Each step steady, unhurried, like he knew exactly where I was and exactly that I wasn’t going anywhere.

My heartbeat picked up, quick and uneven.

I told myself it was just shock.Just surprise. Just the suddenness of seeing someone I hadn’t prepared myself for. But my body remembered him in ways my mind didn’t want to acknowledge.

The way the space seemed to narrow when he moved closer. The way the air felt heavier. The way every instinct sharpened at once.

He stopped a few feet away. Not too close. Not far enough to feel safe.

Up close, the difference in him was subtle but there.

Harder. Colder. Or maybe that was just the distance between who we had been and who we were now.

Neither of us spoke. The silence stretched. I realized then that I was still holding clenching my hand too tightly. My fingers loosened slowly.

Say something. Anything. But my throat felt tight, my thoughts tripping over each other.

His gaze hadn’t left my face.

Not once. And there was something unsettling about it—not anger, not exactly. Not even accusation.

Assessment. Like he was measuring something. Like he was comparing the person standing in front of him to someone he remembered.

The soft whir of wheels over stone cut through the silence.

I didn’t turn immediately. I didn’t need to. That sound had already become familiar in this house—steady, controlled, and carrying the same quiet authority as the woman guiding it.

Finally, his eyes flicked briefly toward the entrance door behind me. Only then did I turn.

Nonna rolled out through the open doorway, the warm light from inside spilling around her like a halo that didn’t soften her in the slightest.

Her posture was upright despite the chair, her hands resting calmly on the wheels as she moved forward without assistance.

She look confused. Surprised and a bit displeased.

Her eyes locked onto Romeo before she even came to a full stop.

And when she spoke, her voice was calm—but sharp enough to cut clean through the night.

"And what," she said evenly, "do I owe this unannounced visit?"

The question hung in the air, polite only in wording.

Nonna rolled forward another foot and stopped beside me, her shoulder almost aligned with my hip, positioning herself slightly in front without making it obvious.

Protective.The realization warmed and tightened my chest at the same time.

Her gaze never left Romeo. There was no softness in it. No grandmotherly welcome. No relief at seeing her grandson after months away.

Just narrowed eyes and quiet scrutiny. Romeo didn’t move immediately.

For a brief second, the tension between them felt heavier than anything that had existed between him and me.

Then his expression shifted.

Not softened, rather it adjusted. His shoulders relaxed by a fraction. The sharpness in his gaze dimmed just enough to pass for warmth. The kind of warmth that looked convincing if you didn’t know him.

His hand lifted slightly. A small, precise snap.

James appeared at his side almost instantly, as if he had been waiting for the signal. He held out a gift bag—elegant, understated, expensive without being flashy.

Romeo took it without looking. Then he stepped forward. Not toward me this time. Toward Nonna.

"Nonna," he said, his voice lower now, smoother, carrying a familiarity that felt practiced rather than felt. "I missed you."

If I hadn’t spent months around him before, I might have believed it.

Nonna didn’t respond. Didn’t smile. Didn’t even move. She simply watched him as he approached.

Romeo stopped directly in front of her, then did something that made my breath hitch slightly. He lowered himself.

Not fully kneeling—but crouching down to her level, controlled and deliberate, bringing his face even with hers. The gift bag rested lightly in his hand as he held it out toward her.

The picture was perfect. The devoted grandson. The respectful return. The man— according to what I was told—who had stayed away for more than five years without a visit.

Nonna didn’t take the bag immediately.

Her eyes searched his face, slow and thorough, like she was reading something written beneath the surface.

The silence stretched. Then, finally, she accepted it. But her expression didn’t change.

"You remember where the house is," she said calmly. "How thoughtful." The words were mild. The tone was not.

I swallowed, trying not to react as the quiet tension between them sharpened.

Romeo’s mouth curved slightly. Not quite a smile. "Work kept me busy," he replied smoothly.

Nonna hummed. Unconvinced.

Her gaze flicked briefly to the convoy behind him. The men. The cars. The security still spread across the estate.

Then back to his face. "And work brought you back tonight?" she asked.

Another polite question. Another test. Romeo straightened slowly to his full height.

For a moment, his eyes shifted.

To me. Just for a second. Then back to her.

"No, I just missed here. " he said. And somehow, the words felt heavier than if he had explained everything.

Because I wasn’t sure if he meant the estate.

Italy.

Or me.