Chapter 7

“Cathy”

Dante stayed where he was as the doctor did his prying and prodding.

He heard what she said, and the nurse had confirmed it as well.

Cathy. Catherine? Kathlyn?

She did not look like a Cathy.

He could see beyond the skinny frame to what she could be.

What she was meant to look like. Her warm, caramel skin was marked with scars and bandages at the moment and she looked much too skinny for her body.

The doctor told him not all her injuries were caused by the accident.

They found broken shards of glass in her skin.

He remembered the terror in her face when she saw him raise his hand.

He could have sworn that she thought he was about to hit her.

Someone must have done a number on her.

Dante’s hands fisted at his sides as he remembered how restless he had been in the past two days.

She had been waking up and slipping back into sleep without a word.

The doctor believed she was healing, but Dante was more than sure that she was going to die anytime soon.

He was so sure that he would be too late this time too.

Though he had no idea why he was so concerned about her or whatever happened to her.

He reminded himself that he was only bothered about the resemblance she had to Isabella.

She could be Isabella’s family.

Though Isabella had told him she was an orphan, and he had not found any of her family when he searched, he was sure that was the only explanation for why she would look so much like his dead wife.

Isabella’s skin was the most delicate olive tone he had ever seen, her lush strawberry blond complimented the hair so well, but this girl’s hair was a deep chestnut with cascading curls that made his fingers twitch.

He couldn't forget the shock he felt when he had seen her eyes for the first time. Though unfocused at the moment, the emerald green had been almost identical to that of Isabella.

Dante was more than sure that this lady was connected to Isabella somehow.

That must also be why he was drawn to her.

It was because of Isabella.

Nothing else.

He needed to know what she knew of Isabella. Anything at all that could give him more of the woman he had not appreciated enough until he lost her.

So, when he found himself checking in on the recovery room more than he had ever done before, he told himself it was because of Isabella.

Who the fuck put that many bruises on her? He thought savagely as he remembered the weird look he saw his men exchange when he told them that the room was off-limited to them until she was out of it.

Two men were to guard the door at all times but that was it.

Every other of his men were to stay as far away from the room as possible.

The recovery room was in their quarters away from the main house.

He had to force himself not to take her away from there the first time he laid his eyes on her unconscious body.

He knew his men were honourable, and they wouldn’t dare touch a sick woman but….

Cathy?

How come she was Cathy?

He pondered as he sat behind his desk.

The document that his COO sent to him to go through lay open on his desk as he caught himself thinking about the damn girl again.

He sighed and tossed his pen down before getting up from the desk. Humphrey can wait.

Her large, expressive eyes slammed into his mind’s eyes as he stared out of his office window.

That little spark of anger he saw in them earlier had been all he needed to know that the only resemblance her eyes had to Isabella’s was colour.

She was…

“Fuck!” he muttered in annoyance.

Though he wouldn’t admit it, he felt he should have listened to Angelo.

If they had dumped her in a hospital, she wouldn’t be occupying his mind like this.

Even as he thought of going to the pit for some punishing wrestling, he couldn’t get her full, slightly flaky lips out of his head.

Isabella's beauty was the quiet type.

Classy and elegant.

This girl? “Fuck,”

Did she really lose her memory, or was she playing him?

Whether she knew Isabella or not, the fact that she could be a decoy was still very much a possibility.

Why else would she have got in front of his car right after he felt someone tailing him?

There was something shitty about that girl.

And he was going to find out.

Aguillar confirmed that her head trauma could cause memory loss, but Dante was not about to take that based on face value.

He made the call on his way to the pit.

“Mario, find out everything you can about Cathy from Stoneraine.” he paused. “Actually, she could be from there or not. Let me know what you get.”

“Yes, boss. Do we have a last name?”

“No,”

“Okay, boss. I will get back to you soon.”

Dante was still on his way when Mario called. “I couldn’t find any Cathy from Stoneraine, boss.”

“Are you sure?” Dante asked as his hands balled into fists.

“Unless she is registered under a different name or not registered at all, boss,” Mario answered.

Dante was silent for a moment before he said, “Pull the data of every female from or around Stoneraine. Send me every single detail of any name close to Cathy at all. Put Mag on the physical combing. I want results today.”

“Yes, boss,” Mario disconnected the call.

He should have known she was lying.

Lost memory indeed.

Whoever had put her on him must be a clown to think such cheap antics would work on him.

He would get his hands on them and make them all pay.

It all made sense to him now.

They knew about Isabella and had deliberately used someone who looked like her to get to him.

Big mistake.

His mood was dark by the time he got to the pit.

Within thirty minutes, three bleeding men were sprawled at his feet.

Yet his anger wasn’t reduced by the time he left the pit.

He had not been as furious as he was that day in a long while.

How dare they mess with Isabella’s memory?

He couldn’t go back home in his mood without going straight to the recovery room to strangle her pathetic life, so he went straight to his private lounge in the Cazador’s casino.

The three strippers performing for him were annoyingly sluggish as they cast fearful looks at him from time to time.

His dark mood was rolling off him like a tornado and their fear fuelled his fury.

He could imagine fucking the three of them till they couldn’t move their slutty ass anymore.

Just as he signalled to one of them to come closer, his phone rang again.

It was Mag.

He put the phone to his ear and waited for the PI to talk.

“Sir, I found her father.”