Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The gate opened automatically before I could even slow down.

I was still at least a couple of meters away when the iron bars slid apart like something out of a high-security film, and I didn’t hesitate—I slammed my foot on the accelerator and drove straight inside. Gravel crunched under the tires as I sped across the massive driveway, heading directly toward the main entrance of the mansion.

If it had been possible, I would have driven the car right into the living room.

Unfortunately, reality had other plans.

The vehicle jolted violently as I misjudged the distance and rammed into a concrete barrier near the steps. My entire body jerked forward, the seatbelt digging into my chest.

“Ow!” I gasped, already fumbling with the door.

I didn’t waste a second.

“Help!” I screamed the moment I stumbled out of the car. “Someone help! Anyone inside—please! Mom, Dad, brother, sister—whoever you are! Help!”

My voice echoed across the massive property, sharp and desperate.

Behind me, the man groaned.

I turned, and our eyes met.

Even in his condition—bleeding, pale, barely conscious—he was still devastatingly handsome. His gaze flickered downward, and I followed it, only to realize my skirt had ridden all the way up to my waist.

Great.

At least I was wearing shorts underneath. Very short ones, but still.

“Come on, handsome,” I muttered, grabbing his arm. “We’re not dying today.”

I tried to pull him out, but he was heavy—too heavy. Dead weight. My grip slipped, and the next thing I knew, I lost my balance and fell right on top of him.

“Agh…” he groaned.

“Sorry!” I winced.

Before I could even try again, strong hands grabbed him from behind and yanked him out of the car with alarming speed.

Everything happened too fast.

One moment I was struggling, the next he was already outside, being carried away by people I hadn’t even noticed arriving.

My hands trembled.

Only now did it sink in.

He was covered in blood.

“Oh my—” I swallowed hard, my throat dry.

“Son of a bitch!”

The furious shout came from inside the house, making me flinch.

I instinctively stepped back, intending to slip away while no one was paying attention—but my back hit something solid.

Or rather, someone.

I turned slowly.

A tall, older man loomed over me, his expression thunderous, his eyes blazing with fury.

“Who are you?” he barked. “What happened to my nephew?!”

“I—I didn’t do anything!” I stammered.

The slap came so fast I didn’t even see it.

Pain exploded across my cheek, and for a second, my hearing rang as if the world had gone underwater. I staggered, nearly falling against the car.

“Stop it, Calixto.”

Another voice—older, calmer, but commanding.

A second man emerged from the main doors, leaning on a cane. Despite his age, there was something imposing about him. His posture, his presence—it demanded respect.

He looked… powerful.

Even now.

“You shouldn’t have hit her,” he said sharply. “You don’t even know what happened. You’re letting your temper control you again.”

Then his gaze shifted to me.

“Come inside, Miss.”

It sounded like an invitation.

It felt like an order.

I hesitated.

He noticed.

“Bring her in,” he added, glancing at the man who had slapped me. “And fix your behavior.”

Then, as if nothing unusual had happened, he added, “Also, pull your skirt down.”

My eyes widened.

Oh.

Right.

I immediately fixed it, heat creeping up my neck.

“Let’s go.”

I didn’t argue.

I couldn’t.

Not when I was still half-expecting another slap.

Inside, the mansion was… overwhelming.

Massive didn’t even begin to describe it. The ceilings stretched endlessly upward, the furniture looked like it belonged to giants, and everything—from the marble floors to the towering vases—screamed wealth and power.

A maid was already waiting by the door.

“Get her an ice pack,” the old man instructed. Then he looked at me again. “What would you like to eat?”

“Coffee,” I said automatically.

He raised a brow.

“To make my nerves worse,” I added with a small, crooked smile.

His lips twitched slightly, though I couldn’t tell if it was amusement or disapproval.

“Sit.”

He gestured to a pristine white leather sofa.

I stared at it.

It looked… expensive. Too expensive.

I perched on the very edge, barely letting my weight touch it.

The old man sat across from me, studying me carefully.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I—I don’t know, sir,” I began, my voice shaky. “He just got out of the car, and then another vehicle appeared out of nowhere. Someone climbed onto the roof and started shooting. I hid behind the car—I didn’t want to die.”

My fingers curled tightly in my lap.

“I saw he was hit, so I helped him. I drove him here. I don’t even know how we made it… it felt like threading a needle with no hole.”

“How did you know this place?” he pressed.

“He told me,” I replied quickly. “The directions were in the car’s system. It guided me.”

I hesitated.

“Is he… okay?”

Before he could answer, a man stepped out from a nearby room.

“Don Vittorio,” he said.

The old man turned immediately. “How is he?”

“He’s fine,” the man replied calmly. “The bullet won’t kill him. His fear might.”

I blinked.

What?

“The wound is on his thigh,” the man continued. “Not serious. I removed the bullet. He just needs a few days of rest.”

“You mean he fainted?” Don Vittorio asked.

“Yes.”

I lowered my gaze, biting my lip.

The man looked like a walking nightmare—tall, broad, intimidating—and he fainted?

From blood?

“Most likely from the sight of it,” the doctor added.

“Exactly.”

The doctor nodded and gathered his things. “I’ve left the prescriptions. Call me if needed.”

Before leaving, he glanced at me and smiled politely.

“By the way,” he added, “he asked that the woman who came with him not be allowed to leave.”

My heart skipped.

“He said she belongs to him.”

My eyes widened.

Don Vittorio nodded once. “You heard him. You’ll be escorted to your room.”

And just like that, he stood and left.

No explanation.

No discussion.

Just… decision.

I sat there for a moment, stunned, until the maid returned with coffee.

“Ring the bell when you’re done,” she said. “I’ll take you to your room.”

“I’m done,” I said quickly, downing the drink in one go despite the heat.

She nodded and led me outside.

We passed through a beautifully landscaped garden—flowers everywhere, trees lining the path, a pool glimmering under the night lights. Then we crossed a small bridge and approached what looked like a modern glass cottage.

“Here, ma’am.”

“Just Catie,” I said softly.

She smiled but didn’t agree.

Inside, the place was stunning. Simple, elegant, and fully furnished.

“You’ll find clothes here,” she explained. “If you need anything, the maid’s quarters are nearby.”

“Thank you.”

When they left, silence settled around me.

I stared at the room.

At the neatly folded dresses.

At the life I had just stepped into.

This was supposed to be a job.

A mission.

And now…

I exhaled slowly and headed for the bathroom.

Maybe a shower would help me think.

—

A knock came just as I finished drying my hair.

I opened the door slightly.

“I was sent to get you,” the man said. “I’m Timoteo. The boss’s right-hand.”

Ah.

So this was him.

That meant I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

I nodded.

No turning back now.

We walked in silence back to the mansion, heading straight to a bedroom.

Timoteo knocked.

“Boss, the talkative lady is here.”

I shot him a look.

Talkative?

Seriously?

He just smirked and opened the door.

“Go in.”

I stepped inside.

And there he was.

Sitting on the bed, one leg slightly elevated, a wheelchair beside him.

Still intimidating.

Still… striking.

“Come here,” he said, his voice deep and commanding.

I approached slowly.

“How are you?” I asked.

“What’s your name?” he countered.

“Catie. Cataleya Cruzada.”

His gaze sharpened.

“Were you sent to pick me up?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “Code name: Poison Ivy.”

His eyes darkened.

“Did you have anything to do with the shooting?”

I blinked.

“Are you serious?” I blurted out. “Me? Do I look like someone who shoots people? If anything, I should be asking you that!”

His jaw tightened.

“I risked my life saving you,” I continued, unable to stop myself. “I didn’t even care that my skirt rode up to my waist, and now you’re accusing me?”

Silence.

Oops.

Too much.

Way too much.

I clamped a hand over my mouth.

“Who hit you?” he asked suddenly.

“The man outside,” I muttered. “The Don called him Calixto.”

“My uncle.”

“Figures,” I grumbled. “You both look like you enjoy accusing innocent people.”

Then, realizing what I just said, I quickly sat on the edge of the bed.

“So… what now?” I asked, forcing a more careful tone. “I’ve been taken to a cottage, fed, dressed… but you can’t even walk properly. Maybe I should just go home.”

I watched him closely.

Testing.

Waiting.

“I paid for you,” he said flatly. “You’re mine.”

There it was.

My stomach tightened.

“The doctor said I only need a few days,” he continued. “I can walk.”

“Right,” I said slowly. “Because earlier, I thought you were dying. Turns out you’re just afraid of blood.”

A small laugh escaped me.

He didn’t get angry.

Instead, he sighed.

“For now,” he said, “you’ll stay and keep me company.”

I nodded.

“I understand.”

I had no choice anyway.

“You can go back to your room,” he added. “Tomorrow will be a long day. Come here when you wake up.”

I turned toward the door—

“I need company in the shower.”

I froze.

Oh.

So this was it.

The real job.

I forced myself to keep walking, my expression neutral, even as my heart pounded wildly in my chest.

A giant.

Afraid of blood.

And apparently… not afraid of anything else.

Tomorrow was going to change everything.