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Her chest ached with the weight of it.She hadn’t felt cherished in her entire life, but with him… she did.
She didn’t know how much time they had.She didn’t want to count the days or hours until he was gone.All she knew was that she wanted every second.
No more hiding in her room at night.No more pretending she was unaffected.Now that she knew what it felt like to belong in his arms, she would claim it.She would sneak into his bed every night, love him with everything she had, until the day came when he walked into danger and never came back.
Decision made, she pushed herself up from the chair, squaring her shoulders as if bracing to step back into the storm of Sal’s world.But just as she turned, a flicker of movement to her right caught her eye.
Something shifted in the hedge at the far edge of the garden about five feet from where she’d been sitting.Somewhere no guard should be.Her pulse leapt, her first instinct was a scream that was already building in her throat.Someone was here.Someone had slipped past Sal’s men.
But then—a dark, wet nose wriggled through the leaves.
Her scream caught in her chest, dissolving into a startled laugh.A nose.Snuffling against the soil.
And then came the softest sound, a fragile whimper.
“A dog?”she whispered, her heart lurching.
Cautiously, she crept closer, scanning the house as if expecting one of Sal’s guards to burst out and demand why she was crouched down talking to shrubbery.But she couldn’t stop herself.
The bush rustled again, a paw poking out—small, tan, trembling.
“Oh,” Catarina breathed, her chest tightening.
She dropped to her knees in the damp earth, leaning in.“It’s okay, honey.I won’t hurt you.”
The paw withdrew, but the nose kept sniffing, twitching at her presence.Catarina lowered her hand, palm down, letting the little creature smell her skin.When the nose crept closer, she gently parted the leaves.
Her breath caught.A thin momma dog, her ribs faintly visible, curled protectively around four tiny pups, so young their eyes were still closed.
“Oh, sweetie…” Tears stung her eyes as she pressed a hand to her chest.Without caring that her outfit would be smeared with dirt, she sank fully onto the ground.The mother’s nearly black eyes met hers—wary, but pleading.
“You need help,” Catarina whispered, her voice shaking with sudden determination.“You need water, at least.”
The puppies squeaked and shifted blindly, their tiny bodies bumping against their mother’s side.Catarina reached out, hesitating just an inch before stroking one gently.So soft.So impossibly small.
She’d been told her whole life that she couldn’t take care of herself, let alone anyone else.But right here, right now, Catarina knew that wasn’t true.This dog had found her.These helpless pups needed her.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised, squeezing the momma’s paw like she was sealing a vow.
Rising quickly, Catarina darted back inside, careful not to draw attention.She scoured the kitchen, finally finding an old ceramic bowl tucked at the back of a cabinet.Filling it with water, she looked over her shoulder like a thief—though what she was stealing wasn’t for herself but for survival.
Sal’s house was immaculate, elegant, perfectly controlled.She doubted he’d want a stray with four puppies under his roof.Puppies made messes.Dogs tore things up.They were loud, chaotic.
But giving them up wasn’t an option.
Balancing the bowl, she rushed back outside, heart pounding with resolve.The momma dog’s ears perked when she returned, her tail giving the faintest wag.Catarina set down the bowl, watching as the mother lapped gratefully at the water.
“See?”Catarina whispered, kneeling again, brushing her hand over one tiny, warm body.“You’re safe now.I’ll protect you.All of you.”
The words weren’t just for the dog.They were for herself too.For the girl who had spent her whole life afraid, controlled, silenced.
Here, in the most unexpected way, she felt something unfurl in her chest—hope.
The momma dog had chosen her.And Catarina would fight for her little found family, no matter what it took.
Chapter 24
Matteosteppedoutofhis shiny, cherry-red Maserati, tugging at the lapels of his jacket like he was walking onto a runway instead of a cracked, garbage-strewn street in front of a strip club.The car gleamed beneath the faint glow of the streetlights, polished so clean it reflected the grime of the city back like a mocking joke.He loved it.Loved the envy in people’s eyes when they saw it.Loved knowing that his machine was worth more than most of their miserable lives.
