ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond

Chapter 296

KATYA POV

The door closed behind us with a quiet click and the sudden silence felt almost strange after the constant pulse of music from the club.

The bass was still there, faint and distant through the walls, but it no longer filled the air. It was just a low rhythm now, like the building itself had a heartbeat.

I stepped inside slowly. Michael’s office was nothing like I had imagined. It wasn’t flashy or overly decorated the way some people might expect a club owner’s office to be.

Dark colors dominated the room, quite yes. The walls were a deep charcoal shade, smooth and matte, giving the office a calm, grounded atmosphere.

A large black desk sat near the center of the room, its polished surface reflecting the warm glow from the lights above.

Behind it stood a wide leather chair that looked dangerously comfortable. But despite the darker tones, the room didn’t feel gloomy.

Soft golden lights were built into the ceiling and along the edges of the walls, bright enough to keep the space warm and welcoming instead of dim and heavy.

The lighting softened the darker colors, creating a balance that made the entire office feel modern and intentional.

One wall was almost entirely glass, looking out over the city beyond the club. The lights from the streets below glittered faintly in the distance.

I hadn’t even noticed the view when we walked in. What caught my attention first was the television mounted on the wall to the right.

Several small screens filled it, each one showing a different angle of the club downstairs.

CCTV cameras. One showed the bar area, people gathered around it with drinks in their hands.

Another displayed the dance floor where lights flashed across the crowd moving to the music. A third camera captured the entrance, the bouncers standing calmly as new guests arrived.

Michael could see the entire club from here. Every corner. "That’s... slightly intimidating," I said slowly, my eyes still on the screen.

Michael chuckled quietly behind me as he stepped further into the room. "It’s practical," he said. I turned slightly as he moved past me, walking toward the desk.

"If anything goes wrong downstairs, I’d rather know immediately."

That made sense. Still, watching the tiny moving figures on the screens felt a little strange — like observing the night from above while everyone else was living inside it.

I glanced back toward the door for a second. Out there, the club was loud, bright, chaotic.

In here, everything felt calmer. More private. Michael leaned one hand casually against the edge of his desk as he watched me take in the room.

"So," he said after a moment, a small smile tugging at his mouth.

"What do you think?" I looked around the office one more time — the dark walls, the warm lighting, the quiet hum of the screens displaying the club below.

"It suits you," I said. His eyebrow lifted slightly.

"Oh?" I nodded. "Organized. Calm, gentle." My eyes flicked briefly to the CCTV screens again.

"And slightly controlling."

Michael laughed softly at that. "I prefer the word prepared."

"Oh please." He shook his head with quiet amusement before pushing himself away from the desk and walking over to where I stood.

"You’re the first person I’ve actually brought in here tonight," he said. I glanced at him.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

I gestured lightly toward the screens.

"So I get the full surveillance tour?"

"Lucky you." I crossed my arms slightly as I looked back at the television again. On one of the screens, the camera angle shifted to the VIP section upstairs. And there, leaning dramatically against the couch with her half-finished margarita in hand, was Chiara.

I pointed at the screen. "She looks very comfortable without me." Michael leaned closer to look at the screen. Chiara was currently talking animatedly to two men while gesturing with her drink like she was telling a life-changing story.

Michael laughed. "I think she’s doing just fine." I watched the screen for another second before shaking my head.

"She’s probably going to make three new best friends and accidentally start a debate about cocktails before I even get back."

"Sounds accurate." The office fell quiet again. Not awkward. Just... still. The faint glow from the screens flickered across the wall, the movement of the club downstairs reflecting in Michael’s eyes for a brief moment as he looked at them.

Then his attention shifted back to me.

"You know," I said slowly. "You still haven’t told me something."

He tilted my head slightly.

"Amd that is?" His eyes moved over my face for a second, thoughtful.

"Why did you choose Italy to build your club?" The question seemed to had caught him slightly off guard because Michael eyes narrowed a bit.

His gaze drifted past me toward the glass wall of the office, toward the faint lights of the city beyond the club.

The pause wasn’t long — only a few seconds — but it was long enough for me to notice it. He exhaled softly.

"Uh..." he began, rubbing the back of his neck briefly. "I’ve always loved Italy’s weather."

I blinked. "That’s... your reason?" A small smile appeared on his face, like he knew exactly how weak that sounded.

"Well," he added smoothly, gesturing vaguely toward the window, "the atmosphere, the nightlife, the energy. Italy has a way of making places feel alive."

I nodded slowly.

"Mm." But in my head, the thought didn’t settle quite right. He had hesitated.

And if I remembered correctly, Michael had once mentioned he was from another country entirely.

Country A. Which made the whole explanation feel... a little strange. If someone had the resources to open a club like this, wouldn’t they usually start in their own country first? Somewhere familiar? Somewhere with connections?

Why come here instead? The questions hovered quietly in the back of my mind. But I didn’t say any of that out loud.

Instead I just gave a small, polite nod. "Well," I said lightly, "it’s really nice here, yeah."

Michael watched me, perhaps he was gauging whether I actually believed the explanation or not.

Then, very smoothly, he shifted the conversation. "So," he said casually. "Would you like a drink now?"

I hesitated for only a moment. Honestly, the quiet of the office had suddenly started to feel a little too enclosed.

Too private. "Yes," I said with a small nod.

"Sure." Michael pushed himself away from the desk again, glancing briefly toward a small cabinet near the wall before shaking his head.

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