ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond

Chapter 288: Car.

Chapter 288

KATYA POV

The sun was brighter than I expected. After hours of being inside that house — inside that room, inside my head — the light felt almost too sharp, too real, like the world outside hadn’t gotten the message that my life had quietly shifted overnight.

Chiara stood beside me near the front gate, her sunglasses now properly on, one hand shading her eyes as she looked down the road.

I crossed my arms, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. "We could have just asked one of the guards to take us," I said for the third time, watching two sleek black cars parked neatly in the driveway behind us. "There are literally more than ten vehicles here."

Chiara didn’t even look at me. "No."

I frowned. "Chiara."

"No," she repeated, firmer this time. I exhaled slowly, already feeling the beginning of a headache forming. "Explain to me why we are standing outside waiting for a ride when we are currently living in a place that looks like a car dealership for billionaires."

She finally turned her head toward me. "Because," she said patiently, like she was explaining something obvious to a child, "if we ask a guard to drive us, then a guard knows where we’re going."

"So?" I asked.

"So," she leaned closer, lowering her voice dramatically, "I don’t want to report my movement to Don Romeo and before it gets to the Don it would definitely pass through James."

I blinked at her. So all these was because of James?! "...You’re being dramatic."

She raised a brow. "Am I?" I opened my mouth but she cuts in. "Come on Katya, I don’t want them knowing we sneak out at night to party like animals, okay?"

Hearing her say all that made me frown because unfortunately... she had a point.

"Finally." A car pulled up in front of the gate. The gate opened automatically, and the car rolled inside before stopping in front of us.

It wasn’t one of the estate cars. Just a normal ride service sedan. Plain. Unremarkable.

Normal. Chiara opened the back door without hesitation and slid inside. I followed, closing the door behind me as the driver greeted us politely.

"Beach," Chiara said. The car pulled away. I leaned back against the seat, watching the house through the window as we drove out.

The gates closed behind us.

For some reason, the moment they shut, it felt less like we were leaving... And more like something inside had just been sealed behind us.

Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe whatever had started in that house this morning...

Was coming with us.

I turned my face toward the window, the sunlight warming my skin, the movement of the car steady and quiet.

Beside me, Chiara was already talking again — something about traffic, sand getting into her shoes, and how her car better still be exactly where we left it.

I nodded occasionally, half-listening.

But my mind wasn’t on the beach. It wasn’t on the car. It wasn’t even on the afternoon. It was on a velvet box. On yellow stones. On a note written in sharp, controlled handwriting. And on the way Romeo’s eyes had gone straight to it.

Like he already knew it would be there.

The ride didn’t take long. The closer we got to the beach, the more familiar everything started to look — the long stretch of road lined with small shops, the sound of waves somewhere ahead, the salty air slipping through the slightly opened window.

By the time the car slowed and pulled into the parking area, Chiara was already leaning forward in her seat.

"Please be there," she muttered. "Please, please, please."

The car stopped. Before the driver could even finish the ride, Chiara was out. I stepped out more slowly, shutting the door behind me as my eyes moved across the parking area.

And there it was. Her car. Exactly where we had left it. Untouched. Chiara gasped like she had just found a missing child.

"My baby!" she shouted, already running toward it. I rolled my eyes as I walked after her at a normal pace.

She reached the car and immediately began inspecting it, her hands moving over the hood, the sides, the mirrors.

"Oh thank God," she breathed. "Still perfect. Still beautiful. Still mine." I stopped beside her, crossing my arms as I watched her crouch slightly to check the tires.

"You know," I said dryly, "most people would first check if the car was broken into."

"I am checking!" she said quickly, moving to the other side.

Then she froze. "...What the hell?"

I stepped closer. "What?" She pointed to the front of the car. Written across the hood in messy, bold letters — clearly done with a marker — was one word.

Bitchies.

Chiara stared at it. Then she looked around the parking lot like the culprit might still be hiding somewhere.

"Those motherfuckers," she muttered, her voice full of betrayal. I looked at the writing again, then back at the rest of the car, I guessed it was those guys from that night.

"At least they didn’t damage anything," I said. "It’s just marker."

"That is vandalism," Chiara snapped, already pulling out tissues from her bag. "My car has a reputation to maintain."

She unlocked the car quickly and opened the driver’s door. I moved to the passenger side and opened it.

The inside looked exactly the way we had left it. My eyes immediately landed on the center console.

My phone. I reached for it quickly, picking it up. The screen lit instantly.

Still on. Still working. Relief came first. Then my stomach dropped. Notifications covered the screen.

Missed calls. Messages. More missed calls. I unlocked it.

Ten. No — more than ten. All from the same contact.

Michael.

Calls. Messages. Calls again.

My thumb hovered over the screen as a strange feeling settled in my chest. Michael, I had forgotten about him again as soon as Romeo came.

Ring...Ring... The phone vibrated in my hand.

Michael. His name flashed across the screen, the sound suddenly too loud in the quiet space of the car.