CATRINA'S POV

“No! No…no.”

I stared at the screen, blinking unbelievably. 

All my hard-earned money was gone. 

I couldn't believe it. I refreshed the app over and over again. 

Nothing. Just zeros staring at me.

My eyes welled and my heart sunk.

Ricardo couldn't do this to me. I had worked so hard for the past three months so I could get this money for my daughter, Bethany, who was in the ICU.

How could he be so heartless?

My hands trembled as I swiped to the dial pad. I dialed his number and waited endlessly. Just the sound of the phone beeping and his voice at the end of the beep.

This is Ricardo Da Silva. I'm away in the sea catching some fish or in bed with a hottie. 

I was supposed to take the money to the hospital today. What was I going to tell them?

I wiped the tears from my eyes. There was no time to even cry. If I was a minute late to work, I was going to lose the only good job I had. 

The cold winter wind slapped me as I stepped out. I crossed my hands, shivering in the cold. 

I was too broke to buy a cardigan. 

Hell, I have been saving every penny I earned for Bethany that I couldn't afford to buy a cardigan. And now, it's all gone. 

I squeezed the few notes I had left in my pocket and began my hike to work. Today, I couldn't afford my usual morning coffee.

“I pay you so well and you can't buy a cardigan!” Madam Rose shouted at me when she saw me shivering in front of her restaurant. “Don't think you'll get any sympathy from me. I don't care what you do with your money. I only care that you work hard for it.”

I nodded. I could barely open my mouth and all my fingers were frozen from frostbite. She tossed the mop bucket at me.

“I want this place sparkling. We're having an important guest today. Scrub until you bleed, and mop until this place sparkles. I pay you so well.”

The water felt like cold thorns prickling my fingers maliciously. But I couldn't think about that. Not when I had no money to pay for Bethany's medical bills. 

The lean trousers I wore did little to protect my knees from the cold floor. But I scrubbed like my life depended on it. 

I hate you, Ricardo. You'll suffer for this!

My tears dropped on the floor as I scrubbed. No one heard my sobs. No one ever. And even if they did, they never cared. 

My fingers were numb from the cold and bruised when I finished. I stood up from the spot I had been scrubbing for the last twenty minutes and headed towards Madam Rose's office.

She glared at me when I stepped in, like I was a piece of thrash. 

“Why are you here?” She demanded angrily. “If you're done with the scrubbing, there are plates to wash. And those floors better sparkle.”

Couldn't she see my bleeding hands?

I pursed my lips and nodded. 

“Madam Rose -”

She raised her hand. “I won't hear whatever you have to say.”

I have never requested an IOU from her before. Couldn't she listen to what I had to say?

“I need to pay my daughter's bills.”

“Enough!!” She shouted. “I pay you enough so you don't come here to ask for more. I didn't make your daughter sick, did I?”

I bit my lips.

“I asked you a question, Catrina.”

“You didn't but-”

“Get out of my office. If I see your face again today, I'll be handing your sack letter to you…” she eyed me. “Ungrateful urchin! I made a mistake employing you in the first place.”

The kitchen staff didn't treat me any nicer.

“Hey, Cat,” one of the chefs said. “Don't you feel the winter's cold or are you too poor to get a cardigan?”

The rest laughed. 

The head chef dragged me by my hair. “You're late…and there's a lot of dishes that need cleaning, vegetables that need cutting…the restaurant is having Julian St. Clair and he has a unique palate. Chop chop!”

She buried my hand in the foamy sink water. “Start washing. You don't need an apron when your clothes look like a rag.”

The room roared with laughter. They seemed to enjoy teasing me and even crowned the best teaser each week. The best teaser gets a special treatment.

“No one has beaten that this week,” I heard one of the sous chefs say. “Are you planning to become the best teaser this week again?”

I had to keep trying Ricardo's number. Maybe, somehow, he would feel even a little bit of pity for me, and return the money. As soon as I was done with cleaning the kitchen, I raced to the bathroom. I could negotiate with him. Even half of the money would be okay. I just needed to get some money for the hospital.

I was in so much haste and was typing on my phone that I didn't see the man on his phone until I bumped into him.

It was Julian St. Clair. 

I trembled with fear, unable to lift my gaze to his face. 

“I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered.

I least expected a slap. Maybe a punch or something worse. I had stained his expensive suit with my soiled gown. He grabbed my wrist. I couldn't dare look at his face. 

“Maria?” He called out. To me. To me?

I remained with my head bowed and shook my head. “No, sir. I'm Catrina.”

“Raise your head.” It was like a command I couldn't disobey. 

He frowned when he saw my full face. 

“You're Maria De la Fonte, aren't you?”

I shook my head again. “You're mistaken, sir. I'm sorry for bumping into you.”

He was frowning as though I was lying. Then he dug his hand into his pocket and took out a card. “I need you to see me at the Da Silva enterprise tomorrow. Come along with this card.”

I stared at the silver card and took it quickly before he got angry.

“I'll be out by midday so I need you there before then.”

I wanted to tell him that I'd be busy at work and would need permission from Madam Rose, but he brisked away, the back of his suit glinting under the bright light.

I stared at the card again, wondering why he mistaken me for Maria De la Fonte and who she was. 

Was this card going to change my fate?

I tucked it safely in my trouser pocket and stepped out. I had another shift in theory minutes. If I could take Julian's silver card to the hospital with a promise to pay, maybe they would listen to me. 

I took a cab with the last change I had left to the hospital. The receptionist frowned when she saw me.

“I hope you've come to pay today,” she said as I walked up to her. 

“How's Bethany?” I asked, ignoring her statement. “Is she getting better?”

“I need a card for payment, “ she stated sternly. “Otherwise, we won't admit your daughter again.”

I shuffled for the card in my pocket and dropped it on the desk in front of her. Her eyes ogled when she saw the silver card. She glared at me.

“Where did you get this from?” She demanded.

“From Julian St. Clair himself,” I explained. “I'm going to see him tomorrow. After that, I'll be able to pay my bills.”

She watched me for a while. “You didn't steal this?”

I shook my head frantically. “You can check it online. He was at the restaurant where I worked and …”

She was clacking on her keyboard. “It's true.” She stretched for the card. “Hand over the card and be here tomorrow.”

I didn't think twice. I would figure out how to see him tomorrow without the card. I dropped the card on the desk and she snatched it off immediately. 

“You can come back in twenty minutes to see her. The doctors are attending to her.”

Relief washed through me. I nodded happily. Stepping out, I began to dial Ricardo's number again. He must have seen my text. 

As I stood at the edge of the sidewalk, a black sedan stopped right in front of me. I was too distracted by the call. But before I could notice anything, two men approached me. It was too fast. One hand was over my mouth and a blindfold over my eyes. I tried to struggle in vain against the force that tossed me into the car. 

The car zoomed off immediately, leaving me staring at nothing but blackness.