Page 116 of Monster in Disguise

Not bad... not bad at all.

Because so would I become. A name so feared, almost mythical in reputation.

Catalina

An overwhelming sense of dread churns in my stomach, causing me to toss and turn in bed. I know what's coming—I can feel it in the air, even in my half-asleep state.

My fingers grip the sheets tightly as I try to push away the inevitable. But no matter how hard I try, I am transported back to that room. The room where I am always face down, strapped to a cold metal table.

My heart pounds loudly in my ears, drowning out any other sound. I strain to hear voices, but they are muffled and distant. All I can focus on is the searing pain ripping through my backside. It's a pain that has become all too familiar, one that never seems to go away.

I thrash against my restraints, a desperate attempt to escape the agony. But it's no use.

Then suddenly, there is someone by my side. A gentle hand strokes my hair and offers me water. Even in my hazy state, I can see his eyes—a piercing amber, like a flicker of hope amidst the darkness. The liquid soothes my parched throat, but most of it ends up spilling on my face and in my hair due to my position.

As I take deep gulps of water, struggling not to choke, everything around me starts to blur together. It feels like the world is spinning with me.

What did they give me?

In a daze, I feel someone unbinding my restraints and pulling me off the table. My dress is lifted over my hips and someone touches me intimately—a violation of my body that leaves me feeling vulnerable and helpless.

My body feels like a heavy weight, too sluggish to move. I barely struggle when something invades my body, tearing me apart. The pain is sharp, so sharp that it slices through my foggy mental state. My eyes sting with unshed tears, my mouth opens in a silent scream of agony.

And then it stops.

A wave of relief washes over me, but it's fleeting. Cold metal presses against my skin under my chin, and I try to make sense of what's happening around me. But the metal keeps digging into my flesh, a threatening reminder.

Is this how I die?

Amidst my internal panic and hyperventilation, I can't even muster the strength to move a finger. The gun remains trained on me, its cold presence never wavering.

And then the pain returns.

In and out.

I jolt awake, gasping for air as beads of sweat coat my trembling body. It was just another nightmare... the same one that has haunted me since that fateful night. Tears blur my vision as I realize I haven't truly moved past it; it still lingers in the depths of my mind.

"Lina?" Marcello asks groggily, sitting up on the bed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I shake my head and attempt a placating smile. He frowns, not quite buying my explanation. His hand goes to my neck, feeling the moisture clinging to my skin.

"Lina, what happened?" He tugs me closer to him, his arms wrapping around me.

"I dreamed about that night again." A soft whisper escapes my lips as I lie next to Marcello, the memories of that fateful night flooding back in fragments. He stiffens beside me, sensing my unease. His warm lips brush over my forehead, trying to comfort me.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks gently.

I hesitate, the pain and hazy memories still fresh in my mind. But then I feel his comforting presence and snuggle closer to him, seeking solace in his embrace.

"I don't remember much. Just some impressions and... pain." I shudder at the memory of the agony I endured. Marcello doesn't press for more information, understanding my need for silence.

I am grateful that he has never asked me about what happened or about Claudia's father. Enzo must have told him the abbreviated version, and Marcello has been kind enough not to bring it up. He has never once made me feel ashamed for what occurred.

"You are safe now. I will always protect you," he assures me with unwavering sincerity. His words send a shiver down my spine, and I turn to kiss him, wanting to forget everything else.

He senses my need for escape and lays me on my back, covering me with his body. "Make me yours," I plead with him, surrendering myself completely.

"You already are mine, Lina," he whispers against my lips before claiming them in a passionate kiss. His hand caresses my face tenderly, his eyes gazing at me with an intensity that both scares and excites me. "You will always be mine."

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