ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond

Chapter 295

At the top of the stairs the atmosphere changed. This section felt quieter. More private.

Low velvet couches were arranged around glass tables, and the lighting here was softer — warm gold instead of the shifting club lights below.

Most of the people here were older than the crowd downstairs.

Well-dressed. The kind of people who looked like they were used to important conversations and expensive rooms.

The balcony overlooked the dance floor below, giving a perfect view of the entire club. Chiara leaned slightly against the railing immediately.

"Oh this is nice." Michael smiled a little.

"VIP section." A man sitting nearby stood as we approached.

"Michael," he said warmly, extending his hand. "Congratulations."

"Thank you."

The man’s gaze shifted toward us. "And who are these lovely ladies?"

Michael opened his mouth to respond, but Chiara stepped forward first.

"Chiara," she said brightly, offering her hand with a dazzling smile. The man chuckled as he shook it.

"And you?" he asked, turning to me.

"Katya." He nodded politely.

"Pleasure." A few more introductions followed as people nearby noticed Michael.

Some of them shook his hand. Some congratulated him again. A few of the men turned their attention toward us instead.

One leaned slightly closer to me. "You’re new here," he said casually.

"I guess you could say that."

He smiled. "Well, welcome to Italy."

Another man joined the conversation a few minutes later, leaning comfortably against the back of one of the couches.

"You should come down to the dance floor later," he told me with an easy grin.

I smiled politely. "Maybe." Chiara, meanwhile, had absolutely no such restraint.

"Oh we definitely will," she said immediately. She lifted her drink slightly as she spoke, flashing one of her dangerously charming smiles.

"And if you’re offering to escort us down there..." The man laughed. "I might be."

Chiara winked. "I like that confidence." I shook my head slightly, amused. She was flirting left, right, and center without even trying. And she was clearly enjoying every second of it.

Michael stood nearby watching the chaos with a mixture of amusement and mild disbelief.

Eventually the conversation shifted again as someone else pulled him briefly into another congratulatory handshake.

I took a small step closer to the balcony railing, looking down at the dance floor below. The lights moved across the crowd like waves. Music filled the entire space.

Energy. Movement. Life. I just watched. Taking it all in. Until Michael bumped lightly into my side after finishing his conversation.

I turned slightly. He had stepped beside me near the railing, one hand resting casually on the polished metal as he glanced down at the dance floor below.

Neither of us said anything. The music drifted up from downstairs in steady pulses, the colored lights washing over the crowd in slow moving waves.

He looked at me again, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "So," he said casually.

I raised an eyebrow slightly.

"So?" His eyes flicked toward the dance floor, then back to me.

"You sneaked out again, huh." I let out a quiet breath through my nose. "It wasn’t exactly planned," I said, because truly it wasn’t. He technically invited me today and the party was today so there was definitely no time for nonna approval.

Michael gave me a look that clearly said he didn’t believe that for even a second.

"Right." Behind us, Chiara’s voice rose loudly above the conversation she was currently having with two men near one of the couches.

"...I’m telling you, if the drink doesn’t burn a little then what’s even the point—" One of the men laughed.

Chiara clinked her glass against his. Michael glanced over his shoulder briefly at the scene before looking back at me.

"Your friend," he said carefully, "is very... energetic."

"That’s one way to describe her."

"She’s already making friends."

"I’m not surprised." Michael shook his head slightly, amused. Then his gaze softened a little as he looked around the VIP section again.

"Well," he said, gesturing lightly toward the room. "Welcome to my club." I followed his gesture, taking in the quiet luxury of the space again.

"You did really well," I said honestly. His attention snapped back to me.

"The club," I clarified. "It looks amazing." And it did.

The layout, the lighting, the atmosphere — everything felt intentional. Expensive without being flashy. Busy without feeling chaotic.

Michael studied me like he was trying to figure out if I was just being polite. When he saw I was genuinely praising him, he smiled a little.

"Thank you." He glanced down toward the dance floor again before continuing.

"It took longer than I expected to get everything exactly right."

"I can imagine."

"Permits, construction, design changes, staff..." He exhaled quietly. "At some point it felt like the place would never actually open."

"Well, it did."I smiled slightly.

He nodded. "Yeah."

Silence followed after that, we both watched the crowd below again. "Actually," Micheal voice broke out, something in his tone shifted slightly like he had just remembered something.

"Come with me."

I blinked.

"Where?" He pushed away from the railing and nodded toward the far end of the VIP area.

"I’ll show you something." I glanced briefly toward Chiara. She was still leaning comfortably against one of the couches, laughing loudly at something the man beside her had just said, her margarita halfway finished.

She didn’t look like she would notice my absence for at least ten minutes. Maybe longer. Michael noticed where I was looking and chuckled.

"I think she’ll survive without you for a bit."

"That’s debatable," I said. He grinned slightly.

"Come on." Curiosity got the better of me. I followed him. We walked along the edge of the VIP section toward a quieter hallway partially hidden behind a decorative partition.

The music softened slightly the moment we stepped into it. The hallway was dimly lit, lined with sleek black doors spaced evenly along the wall.

Michael gestured casually as we walked.

"My office is down here," he said. I looked at the doors.

"And a few other things."

"A few other things?" He nodded.

"Private rooms." I slowed slightly.

"Rooms?" Michael glanced back at me, clearly amused by my reaction.

"Yes." I frowned faintly, looking down the hallway again.

"For... what exactly?"

He chuckled quietly as he pushed open one of the doors.

"You’d be surprised how many people want privacy in a place like this." I blinked. I wasn’t the naive Katya from six months ago but I don’t exactly get why rooms are in a club when a party is going on.

Michael stepped aside slightly, gesturing toward an open door. "This one’s just a lounge room."

I peeked inside. Soft lighting illuminated a spacious private sitting area — low couches, a small bar setup in the corner, dim lighting designed to feel comfortable rather than loud.

It looked more like a luxury hotel lounge than anything connected to a club.

"There are a few like this," he explained. "For private parties, meetings, people who don’t want to be out in the crowd."

I nodded slowly.

"That’s... smart." He smiled slightly.

"Yeah. Turns out people with money really enjoy privacy." Then he nodded further down the hallway.

"My office is at the end." He started walking again. I followed, my heels clicking softly against the polished floor.

The deeper we moved down the corridor, the quieter it became. The music from the club faded into a distant rhythm behind the walls.

Finally Michael stopped in front of the last door.

He reached for the handle.

"Welcome to my favorite part of the building," he said lightly. Then he pushed the door open.

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