ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond

Chapter 292

KATYA POV

"Keep still," Chiara said, gripping my chin and turning my head left, right, and center like she was inspecting a very stubborn art project that refused to cooperate.

"I am still," I muttered under my breath, even though deep down I knew I absolutely was not.

"You are vibrating," she corrected calmly, leaning closer as she blended something along my cheekbones with the patience of someone who had already accepted their fate. "If you blink one more time towards that door while I’m doing eyeliner, I will actually lose my mind."

I tried very hard not to laugh. Or curse her out.

Both options would definitely ruin whatever masterpiece she was currently creating on my face.

We had officially moved on from the bathroom disaster to full transformation mode.

My hair was dry now, falling in soft waves down my back — Chiara had insisted on redoing it because apparently "air-dried chaos" was not club appropriate, and according to her, tonight required "effort, drama, and a little bit of danger."

The dress we bought at the mall was laid out earlier, and now it hugged my body in a way that made me hyperaware of every single breath I took.

Chiara stepped back slightly, tilting her head as she studied me with the critical gaze of someone evaluating their own artwork.

"Hm."

That "hm" could mean anything.

"What?" I asked immediately, suspicious.

"Nothing," she said, which absolutely meant something. She leaned back in again, adding something warm to the corners of my eyes. "I’m just deciding how dangerous we’re going."

"I don’t want dangerous," I said quickly.

She laughed softly, completely unconcerned. "Too late."

My room was loud with Chiara playing some dramatic Italian song from her speaker, the music floating through the space with exaggerated passion.

Earlier, I feared that Romeo would stepped out of his room and commanded us to shut it down, because clearly he was of someone who isn’t in the mood for our noise.

But since he went into his room, I hadn’t seen his shadow again.

Which, honestly, was probably for the best. Chiara gently turned my face toward the light again.

"Relax your mouth," she instructed.

"I am relaxed."

"You look like you’re about to be sentenced."

Because it felt like that.

She softened slightly when she noticed my expression shift.

"Katya," she said more gently this time, lowering the brush. "It’s just a club. Loud music. Bad dancing. Expensive drinks. You’ll survive."

I swallowed slowly. That wasn’t even what was on my mind anymore but... okay.

"You promise?"

She grinned immediately. "If anyone breathes wrong near you, I’ll handle it." That made me smile a little despite myself.

She returned to work, her movements steady and practiced, and I watched her reflection in the mirror instead of my own.

She was glowing with excitement. Her red dress wasn’t just bold. It was dangerous. It clung to her like it had been designed specifically with her exact measurements in mind — sleek, fitted, unapologetic in the way it wrapped around her body.

The fabric dipped low at the front, sharp but still somehow elegant, and the back... the back barely existed.

Thin straps crossed over her shoulders, leaving most of her skin exposed, smooth and confident under the warm light of the room.

The slit along her thigh moved every time she shifted her weight, revealing just enough leg to make a statement without saying a single word.

Her dark hair fell straight and glossy down her back, framing the sharp angles of her cheekbones. Her lips were painted a deep wine shade — dramatic, rich, and completely intentional.

She didn’t look like someone going to a club. She looked like the reason the club existed. "There," she whispered as she added one final touch to my lips — a deeper shade than I would have chosen for myself.

I finally forced myself to look directly at my own reflection.

And paused. My makeup wasn’t that bold, but it made my eyes look sharper, darker, almost feline. The liner lifted them slightly at the edges, giving me a look that said I wasn’t here to be overlooked.

My lips were defined, confident. My cheekbones carved just enough to make my face look structured, controlled. I didn’t look sweet. I didn’t look unsure.

I looked like someone who would walk into a room and not apologize for taking up space. Chiara watched my reaction carefully, her arms slowly crossing.

"Well?" she demanded. I stood slowly from the chair, smoothing my hands down the sides of the dress.

"I... I look good." I swallowed.

"You look too good," she corrected immediately, grabbing my shoulders and spinning me lightly toward the mirror again. "Katya, Michael is going to be blown away."

I rolled my eyes, even though my cheeks warmed slightly. "I’m not going there for Michael to be blown away."

She gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. "Oh? Then who?"

"No one," I said quickly. "I’m going because you dragged me."

"Sure," she said, completely unconvinced. I turned my face slightly, studying the angles Chiara had created.

Tilting my chin. Turning left. Then right.

Confidence.

That’s what she had painted onto me. I let myself admire her work until Chiara suddenly moved toward the bed and bent down, pulling out a pair of heels from one of her bags.

They were bright yellow. Not soft yellow. Not pastel. Bright. Bold. Unapologetic. "You’re wearing these," she announced.

"With this dress?" I asked skeptically.

"Exactly with that dress." She straightened. And that was when her eyes shifted. Not to me. To the bedside table. I followed her gaze.

The box. It was still there. Quietly placed beside the lamp like it hadn’t been sitting there all evening unnoticed.

Chiara’s expression changed subtly. A small grin slowly touched her lips. "Oh," she said softly.

My stomach tightened immediately.

"Chiara—" Her eyes flicked from the box to me, the grin growing wider.

"Oh my God."

"Chiara, no."

But she was already moving. Before I could take a single step, she snatched the box off the bedside table like a thief who had just discovered hidden treasure.

"I totally forgot about this."

"Chiara!" I lunged forward, but she had already flipped the lid open with dramatic enthusiasm.

And then she gasped.

"It’s the exact shade with the shoes!" She lifted the bracelet out carefully, holding it up so the light from the lamp caught it.

The gold glimmered softly, delicate but expensive in a way that didn’t need to scream about it.

"Oh my God," she whispered again, staring at it like she had just discovered the missing piece to a puzzle.

"You are definitely going to rock this tonight."

"No," I hissed.

That immediately snapped Chiara’s eyes toward me.

"Katya?"

I ignored her completely and focused on slipping on the shoes instead.

I wasn’t going to wear that jewelry when I didn’t even know who got it. And Chiara was absolutely not going to force me into this.

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