Chapter 2
Catalina's POV
I woke up in the medical room.
Morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, making the white medical equipment look harsh and clinical. The wounds on my body reminded me of last night's nightmare—the jungle escape, getting caught, and everything that happened in the bathroom.
Dimitri stood at the medicine cabinet preparing antiseptic, his expression focused. If you didn't know his true nature, anyone would think he was a caring doctor.
"Sit down." He pointed to the examination table, his tone calm.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I pressed against the wall, every muscle tense. The thorn cuts on my arms were still bleeding, my knees badly scraped, but I'd rather let the wounds get infected than have him touch me.
He set down the medical supplies, his eyes darkening with displeasure.
"The cuts will get infected," he said, slowly walking toward me. "In this climate, they'll fester quickly."
"Stop pretending to care!" I backed up until there was nowhere left to go, my voice shaking with rage. "Weren't you enjoying watching me suffer last night?"
His expression turned stone cold.
When he reached for me, I instinctively dodged and grabbed the medical scissors, lunging at him.
The scissors never reached him. He disarmed me effortlessly, and in the next second, I was pinned to the examination table. His body pressed against mine, searing heat radiating through our thin clothing.
"Still so impulsive." He tossed the scissors aside carelessly, one hand holding my shoulder down. "Seems like you need some motivation to cooperate."
Before I understood what he meant, he'd pulled out his phone.
The moment the screen lit up, my heart stopped.
It was surveillance footage from Miami Sacred Heart Psychiatric Hospital. In the frame, my mother sat by her room's window, staring blankly outside. She looked so thin, her once-black hair now mostly gray.
"No..." I struggled desperately, trying to grab his phone, but he held me down firmly.
"She doesn't look well." He held the phone higher so I could clearly see my mother's haggard appearance. "The doctors say her condition is deteriorating. She needs more expensive medication."
"My mother has NOTHING to do with this!" I was practically screaming, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face. "She's innocent!"
"Innocent?" He laughed coldly, his thumb brushing away my tears with gentle movements but cruel eyes. "The wife of the Santos family head? How could she be innocent?"
His finger traced along my cheek to my throat, stopping at my collarbone. I could feel the heat of his touch and that terrifying electric current I couldn't ignore.
"Her monthly treatment costs a hundred thousand dollars." His voice was against my ear, warm breath making my whole body shiver. "If you keep refusing to cooperate..."
He paused deliberately, letting the fear grow inside me.
"Her treatment stops."
"NO!" I tried to push him away, but his body was solid as steel. "You can't do this! Please..."
Seeing me break down, something painful flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by coldness.
"Now, let me treat your wounds." He released me, but the threat remained. "Don't fight me again."
I had no choice but to let him clean my cuts.
When the antiseptic hit the wounds, the sting made me gasp. I bit my lip hard, refusing to let any sound of pain escape.
"Does it hurt?" he asked, but his touch didn't become any gentler.
I didn't answer, just stared at the ceiling, trying not to look at his face.
"When you got hurt as a child, you used to bite your lip like that too." His voice became soft, almost reminiscent. "Never cried in front of me."
Those words made my heart skip. Why was he bringing up those memories?
"That's all in the past," I said through gritted teeth.
"Is it?" He stopped working and looked directly into my eyes. "Then why do you still endure pain the same way?"
His fingers lightly traced over the freshly bandaged wound on my arm, the touch feather-light but making my whole body tense.
"Some habits never change," he continued, his finger moving up along my arm. "Just like my feelings for you..."
He didn't finish the sentence, but my mind involuntarily drifted to fifteen years ago.
When everything was still beautiful. When our families were close friends, before betrayal, hatred, and blood debt.
Fifteen years ago, Santos family estate, Miami
I was eight, he was ten. That sunny afternoon when sunlight filtered through palm leaves onto the lawn, I had a high fever and lay in bed, drifting in and out of consciousness.
Then Dimitri came.
"Catalina?" I heard his gentle voice and opened my eyes to see him sitting beside my bed.
"I feel terrible," I whispered weakly.
"I know." He gently wiped my forehead with a cool cloth. "Mom says you need to drink lots of water when you have a fever."
He took care of me all afternoon, reading me stories, helping me take medicine, even staying by my bed while I slept.
"Dimitri, thank you for staying with me," I told him seriously after I recovered.
"As long as you're happy," he smiled with pure innocence, his blue eyes clear as the sky.
From then until we were sixteen, Dimitri was my best friend, my most reliable protector. So when our parents mentioned the arranged marriage with the Volkov family, though I had some resistance to arranged marriages, I wasn't opposed. Because it was Dimitri—the boy who had always protected and understood me.
"We'll still be best friends after we're married, right?" naive me asked him then.
"Of course." He smiled, though I didn't catch the bitterness in it. "We'll always be together."
If only time could have stopped at that moment...
"Do you remember those times?" Present-day Dimitri interrupted my memories, his voice heavy with complex emotions.
I looked up at him, my vision blurred with tears. "That gentle boy is dead."
"You're right." His expression instantly turned icy, his hand moving to my throat, thumb dangerously pressing against my pulse point. "He died the night you chose Gabriel Romano."
Hearing my lover's name, my heart clenched painfully. Gabriel... my Gabriel must be going crazy with worry. He must be using every resource to find me, not knowing I was trapped on this godforsaken island with this madman.
Dimitri caught my reaction instantly, his face darkening.
"You're still thinking about HIM?" he growled, his grip tightening around my throat. "In front of me, you DARE think about another man?"
I could barely breathe, my throat aching from his grip, but I still glared at him defiantly: "I LOVE him! I'll ALWAYS love him!"
Those three words hit Dimitri's deepest nerve. He completely lost control, yanking me off the examination table and crushing me against him with bruising force.
"Don't you EVER say his name again!" He bit my earlobe, his voice hoarse. "You're MINE! Only mine!"
His burning body pressed against me, the possessiveness so intense I could barely breathe.
"I'll NEVER be yours!" I used every ounce of strength to push him away, screaming. "Even if you keep me here forever, even if you KILL me, my heart belongs to Gabriel!"
Dimitri stared at me with something dark and deep in his eyes that made my heart race with fear.
"Really?" He smiled coldly. "Catalina, do you honestly think you understand what I'm capable of?"
He leaned close, whispering in my ear: "Then let's fucking find out."
With that, he turned and stormed out, leaving me alone in the medical room, tears streaming down my face.
