Chapter 5

CATALINA POV

Catalina sat on the edge of her bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a faint halo over the room. Shadows stretched along the walls.

Says like these were when she was grateful that her and her husband did not share a room.

She exhaled, staring at the jar of ointment in her lap.

Her mind refused to settle regardless.

The truck.

The man.

The way he had walked toward her car, his creepy grin too wide, too strange.

He hadn't spoken. Not with his voice.

But his lips had moved, slow and deliberate.

“He is a monster.” That was what he mouthed at her.

Catalina shivered.

She pressed her fingers against her temples. She had spent years reading people’s lips, but at that moment, she wished she hadn’t understood him at all.

Because now she wouldn't be thinking about this.

Was he talking about Essen?

Or someone else?

She wasn’t naive or stupid. Essen had made enemies—many of them. His reputation was ruthless, his business methods even more so. But this felt… different.

Maybe she was thinking too much into it. Nobody knew she was his wife though. So no one would threaten her to get to him.

She exhaled, shaking her head. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that the man had wanted her to see it, but it could also be her father's enemy.

Her shoulder throbbed, dragging her back to the present. She focused on the dull ache in her shoulder.

She rolled up her sleeve, revealing the angry red mark on her skin. It would bruise by morning.

She had felt worse.

She reached up, pressing her fingertips against the sore spot. A sharp sting shot through her arm.

The impact.

When she swerved to avoid the truck, her shoulder had slammed into the car door. She hadn’t even noticed the pain at first, not until later, when she had changed into her nightclothes.

She sighed, twisting the lid off the ointment jar. The faint scent of menthol filled the air.

Carefully, she dipped her fingers into the ointment and pressed it against the sore spot. A sharp sting shot through her arm, making her winched at the sensation.

Physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional torture she had carried for years.

She exhaled slowly and stood up. Dwelling on it wouldn’t change anything.

Dragging her feet, she headed to the bathroom. The cool tiles sent a shiver up her spine as she reached for the faucet. Warm water flowed over her hands, soothing.

She grabbed her cleanser, lathering it between her palms before massaging it onto her face. As she rinsed, the tension in her shoulders loosened, if only slightly.

She caught her reflection in the mirror.

Her face was expressionless.

But her eyes—her eyes told a different story.

With a sigh, she turned away.

Once done, she switched off the bathroom light and climbed into bed.

Catalina sat cross-legged on her bed, scrolling mindlessly through her phone. The glow from the screen cast soft shadows across her dimly lit room. Sleep was nowhere in sight, and she wasn’t sure if it ever would be.

Then, her phone vibrated. She wasn't in the mood to listen to her mother's voice today.

But it was a message.

Her stomach twisted before she even checked who it was from.

Her mother-in-law.

Mrs. King: Come to my house tomorrow.

No greeting. No explanation. Just that she should come. Five words, yet they made her stomach churn.

She had reread the message at least ten times, but it didn’t change.

Her fingers hovered over the screen, but there was nothing to type. Nothing she could say.

Not that it mattered. She wouldn't dare say no.

Her throat felt tight as she set the phone down, face-down, as if that would make the words disappear. But they wouldn’t. They clung to her mind, wrapping around her like invisible chains.

She should have expected this. It had been a while since she last heard from her mother-in-law, and peaceful silence never lasted long where Catalina was concerned.

She should be used to this by now.

Should she?

But she wasn’t. And that showed how bad her mother-in-law could get.

Mrs. King never asked. She demanded, but always expected a reply.

Catalina swallowed hard, opening her phone and replying with a short okay. The room suddenly felt smaller. She felt colder than before.

And tomorrow, Catalina would have to face her again.

Her hands curled into fists against the blanket.

Instead of feeling like Essen’s wife, she always felt like an inconvenience. A burden. A mistake that should have never been made.

But it was worse when she was with her mother-in-law.

Her own husband barely acknowledged their marriage. His mother? She made sure Catalina never forgot her place.

The moment her mother-in-law spoke, Catalina always felt like she was shrinking. Like she was back to being a small, invisible girl who never measured up.

The things she said—she always knew the right words, the ones that cut the deepest. Words that made Catalina's skin crawl, words that echoed in her mind long after they were spoken.

Her chest suddenly ached with something bitter.

Catalina had learned to endure silence. Learned to live with being ignored. But Mrs. King?

She didn’t ignore her.

She made sure Catalina knew exactly how unwanted she was.

Tomorrow would be no different.

Catalina pressed her hands against her face, forcing a slow breath. Stop thinking about it.

She had to focus on something else. Anything else.

Lying on her side, she stared at the ceiling.

A sharp, tired sigh left her lips.

She closed her eyes, willing the tightness in her chest to disappear.

It didn’t.

Tomorrow would come whether she wanted it to or not.

Just that she wasn't looking forward to it.

And she was right.

Because when she was finally able to sleep, she dreamt of being chased, and cut into tiny pieces but not with a knife, but sharp edged words.

What a nightmare that would soon be her reality!