Before Carolina could react, he had already pulled her inside the office. He turned her toward the door, leaving her facing it. She caught sight of Maximo's scarred hand, yet her attention slipped away from it the moment she felt him right behind her, his breath brushing against her hair.

Confusion took hold of her thoughts, but the fear that rose in her chest didn't stay for long. Something else followed it, something she couldn't quite name.

"What did you just say?" he asked, his voice low near her ear.

His hand settled on her waist as he pulled her closer. His leg moved between hers, and his body pressed firmly against her back.

"You... you think of me as a prostitute! Are you even a man?" she exclaimed, struggling to steady her voice as she spoke. His nearness made her head spin.

What she didn't realize was that he wasn't unaffected either.

Maximo couldn't remember the last time being close to a woman had stirred him this way. They hadn't kissed, and she hadn't touched him, yet the memory of having her beside him lingered. After leaving her room that night, he had returned to his own, unable to stop replaying every moment. He wanted more, yet he held himself back. He wouldn't risk going to her again and being seen.

Now, with her trapped between him and the wall, it took everything he had not to turn her around and claim her lips. His restraint was thinning. Her words about him not being a man only made it worse.

"So you married for money, didn't you? People who marry share a bed. And if that's done for money, then what else would that make you?"

"Now tell me," he added, his voice tightening, "how do you dare say I'm not a man?"

His grip on her waist tightened, and he pushed forward slightly.

A soft sound slipped from her, and it caught him off guard.

"I'm not... a prostitute!" she shouted, anger rising in her voice, though her reaction betrayed something else as well.

"You really think I'm not a man?" he asked. He shifted again, making his presence unmistakable against her. "Do you want me to prove it?"

She had no idea what came over her in that moment, yet the words still left her lips.

"Yes! Then show me."

For a brief moment, Maximo didn't react. Then a faint, knowing smile formed on his lips. The light fabric of her summer dress didn't offer much resistance as his hand moved slowly along her thigh, and a soft breath escaped her in response.

After loosening his own clothing, he drew her forward, though the difference in their height made him pause.

"Close your eyes."

"What?"

"I said close them," he replied, his tone firm. She gave a small nod and did as he asked. Darkness surrounded her, and she felt him shift her position. His breath brushed against her face, close enough to make her pulse quicken. The box slipped from her hands, but when she tried to reach for him, he stopped her. "No."

"At least let me hold onto you. You're still wearing a shirt, right?" she insisted, her voice uneven.

After a short pause, he gave in. "Fine." She lifted her hands and rested them on his arms, steadying herself. His gaze lingered on her lips before he leaned in and pressed his mouth against hers.

The moment stretched as she responded, parting her lips as he deepened the kiss. Her thoughts blurred, and she followed his lead without question. He guided her across the room until she felt herself lifted, then placed onto the surface behind her.

The feeling overwhelmed her, and without thinking, her hand moved upward, reaching for his hair.

The sudden touch made him pull back slightly, though only for a second. When he noticed she didn't react to the spot his hand brushed against near her temple, he allowed her to keep that contact and nowhere else.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked, his voice low as his lips brushed against her.

"It doesn't," she replied, though the answer wasn't true.

The two men standing outside hesitated when they heard something hit the floor. For a moment, they considered stepping in.

Then Carolina's voice carried through the door, and they froze.

"I think—"

"Let's just go," the shorter one cut in. "They've already worked things out." Without another word, they turned and left.

Not far from them, Dolores lingered nearby. A small smile appeared on her face when she heard Carolina. Relief settled in her chest. She had hoped things would turn out well for both of them, and from what she had seen, Carolina seemed like a decent person. With that thought, she quietly walked away, feeling at ease.

Inside, their breathing hadn't steadied yet. Maximo slipped a hand behind her head and drew her closer, guiding her to rest against him. Her cheek pressed to his chest, and even through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel the warmth of his body. His heartbeat reached her ears, steady and strong.

"I can't believe this happened again," she pondered, her lips pressed together as her eyes stayed shut.

Time had passed since Maximo had been this close to a woman. He couldn't tell if that was the reason or if Carolina truly affected him in a different way. For the first time in a while, he didn't feel lacking. She had responded to him. She hadn't pulled away.

"She's good at pretending." A bitter thought slipped into his mind.

"Keep your eyes closed," he said, his tone steady. "I'll walk you to the door." Her brows pulled together slightly at his words.

"I don't want to keep them closed. I want to see you."

"No," he answered, his tone sharp and final.

"But... we've already crossed that line," she said, her voice tight as she kept her eyes shut. "We're married."

"No. The only reason you're even willing to touch me is because you haven't seen my face."

"That's not true!"

"Then what is it? Are you that good at pretending that even a face like mine doesn't matter to you?" he asked, his voice edged with bitterness. The meaning behind his words hit her all at once.

Without opening her eyes, she pushed him away and slid off the table. Her footing faltered for a second as she tried to steady herself.

"You're unbelievable!" she exclaimed, her voice shaking as she held back tears. "I gave you my first time, and that's what you think of me?"

"That's something surgery could fix," he replied flatly.

Anger surged through her, and she took a few steps forward before finally opening her eyes to see where she was going. The jewelry box lay on the floor, thrown open from the fall, with a diamond necklace glinting inside. Without hesitation, she kicked it aside, pulled the door open, and stormed out.

Maximo watched her leave and let out a quiet breath as he shook his head.

"If she thinks she can fool me, she's wrong," he pondered, irritation settling in.

Meanwhile, in the capital, Cesar stood seething.

"What's wrong, my son?" Yolanda asked, leaning against the doorway as she watched him.

"The one who married Maximo... it wasn't Eloisa," he remarked, his voice tight as he rose to his feet.

His mother stepped into the study, her expression sharpening as she took in his mood.

"Show me that girl," she insisted, her voice firm.

Cesar pulled up a photo of the Navarro family on his computer and opened it without delay. Yolanda leaned closer, then lifted her hand and pointed at the dark-haired girl with honey-brown eyes.

"Is this the one?" she asked.

He gave a short nod in response.

"She's quite beautiful."

Cesar let out a quiet scoff and gestured toward the blonde beside her. "She still doesn't compare to her sister, Eloisa."

Yolanda studied both of them in silence for a moment.

"I don't see it that way," she replied at last. "Carolina stands out more to me. There's something softer about her. This Eloisa... she looks full of herself. Just look at that expression."

Eloisa's beauty was something people often talked about, but her attitude had always been difficult. She had been spoiled for too long, and it showed. Even so, Cesar knew she drew attention wherever she went. Many men pursued her, and that alone raised her worth in his eyes. He wanted someone exceptional for his son. He also wanted the future mother of the Castillo heirs to be someone admired.

"But, Mother..."

"Calm yourself, César. Think about it differently. If this girl isn't surrounded by suitors, then she's likely more grounded. That's exactly the kind of person our boy needs. And don't forget, this Eloisa already turned him down without even meeting him."

He paused, then slowly nodded.

"Alright... fine," he responded. "I won't bring it up with the Navarros. At least not for now."

Yolanda smiled faintly, her eyes returning to Carolina's image. Something about the girl left her certain. She felt that Carolina would be the right match for Maximo.

Later that day, back at the estate, Carolina stayed locked inside her room and refused to join them for lunch. When dinner came, she turned that down as well. Not long after, the door to her room swung open.

Startled, she flinched and tightened her hold on the pillow resting on her lap, the book she had been reading slipping slightly.

"What now?" she asked, irritation rising in her voice. "And what is this supposed to be?"

She looked toward the doorway. No one stood there.

"Get downstairs. Now." Even without seeing him, she recognized his voice right away. The way he said it made it even clearer.

"I'm not going," she replied, her tone steady as she leaned back again and kept reading.

"Carolina, are you planning to make me drag you all the way to the dining room?"

"That's not something I'd enjoy. And since we're talking about what I want, you should leave me alone."

"What did you just say?" he asked, caught off guard by her response.

A quiet sense of satisfaction settled in her chest. If he really wanted to drag her, then he'd have no choice but to let her see him. Besides, after everything he had said earlier, she didn't mind pushing back.

"Is this because I haven't paid you yet?" he asked. The question made her hands tighten as anger surged through her.

"Get out!"

"This is my house."

"And it's mine too. I'm your wife, aren't I?" she replied without hesitation.

A faint smile appeared on her lips as she took his silence as a win.

Turning her back to the door, she settled in again and focused on her book.

Maximo stepped inside anyway. The sight that greeted him made him pause. She lay stretched out on the bed, her posture relaxed, her nightgown short enough to reveal the length of her legs and the curve of her figure. He swallowed and moved closer without thinking.

"What else should I expect from someone like her? She must've had it easy getting attention before. But now... she belongs to me."

A strange sensation crept over Carolina, and she stiffened. Something felt off. Her eyes shifted toward the wall, and there it was. A shadow that hadn't been there before.

Without thinking, she turned around. Standing behind her was a tall man. His light hair caught the faint glow in the room, and his skin held a slight tan, proof that he didn't stay locked inside the mansion. He wore dark jeans, a belt with a wide buckle, and a light green shirt with the sleeves pushed up. His build didn't go unnoticed, especially the strength in his arms. One of them carried visible scars.

But none of that held her attention for long. Her gaze stopped at his face.

Half of it was hidden beneath a mask, the same side marked by scars that stretched along his arm and neck. The other half remained uncovered. That side showed sharp features. His lips were full, his nose defined though partly concealed, and his brows were thick despite their light color. Then there were his eyes. A striking shade of green, bright like emeralds. Yet what filled them wasn't warmth. It was anger. It was contempt.

"Satisfied now?" he said, his voice tight as his jaw clenched. Only then did Carolina realize what she was doing. He had already warned her not to stare.

"No," she answered without hesitation. Her eyes didn't leave him. Instead, they moved slowly over him before returning to his face.

A cold smile touched his lips. "For someone who claims innocence, you've got a lot of nerve." His gaze traveled over her in return, deliberate and heated, as if testing how far she would go.

"I'm not a virgin," she said, meeting his eyes without backing down. "I got married. I spent a wedding night. And earlier, we crossed that line again in your office. Too bad the man I married turned out to be a crude, thoughtless idiot."

The space between them disappeared as he stepped closer. Carolina caught his scent then. Something deep and warm, something that lingered.

"I told you not to look at me like that," he responded, his voice dropping into something far more dangerous.

"I can see just fine."

"Good for you," she retorted right away, brushing off the warning in his voice. "Or what? What are you going to do about it? Are you planning to blind me? Rip my eyes out? Honestly, I wouldn't put it past you."

"I'm not some kind of monster. You're only saying that because of how I look, aren't you?"

"What's wrong with you?" she said, disbelief crossing her face. Has he lost his mind too?

A warning stirred deep inside her, urging her to stop. What if he reacted like her father? What if he raised his hand against her? They were alone out here, far from anyone who could help. Maximo towered over her, far stronger than Gaspar ever was. If he struck her, she wouldn't stand a chance.

He inhaled sharply, then moved without hesitation. In one swift motion, he lifted her and set her down on the bed. Her knees hit the mattress as he leaned in, closing the distance between them.

"That hurts!" she exclaimed, trying to pull away.

His eyes flicked downward, catching sight of her blouse, the thin fabric barely covering her. For a moment, he froze. Then he stepped back, walked to the door, and shut it with force before turning toward her again. Her throat tightened.

His hands moved to his belt, and she understood what he intended. A part of her responded, but she forced herself to stay grounded this time.

"Not this time," she muttered to herself.

"Sorry, Mr. Castillo. That 'prostitute' you keep talking about? She's not available tonight," she said, her voice turning cold. The reaction in his eyes was immediate.

"Now leave," she added, pointing toward the door, her anger no longer hidden.

He didn't move. Instead, he stared at her, caught between disbelief and rising anger. Was she really turning him away from her own room?

"I want you," he said, closing the distance between them. The thought crossed his mind that he was starting to crave her more than he should.

"We're married. This is what married couples do. This was supposed to be our honeymoon. And if I want a child—"

"That's unfortunate," she cut in, her tone sharp. "Because I'm not available tonight. Now get out."

To him, her anger didn't land the way she intended. She looked like a small creature trying to defend itself, all claws and defiance, yet still impossible to take seriously.

Tears gathered in her eyes, though they came from frustration rather than sadness. The way he spoke to her only made it worse.

The urge to pull her in and claim her lips rose again, stronger than before. He couldn't shake the thought that if he kissed her the same way he had earlier, she might respond just as intensely and give in. He stepped closer. Anger flashed across her face, and without hesitation, Carolina grabbed a pillow and hurled it straight at him.

The impact didn't bother him. He caught it with ease, then let out a low laugh as he dropped it aside.

"A pillow? That's not much of a defense. Feels more like you're asking me to stay."

Her eyes scanned the room, searching for something else. This time, she picked up a book and threw it at him without holding back. A sharp thought crossed his mind. Even something small can fight back harder than expected.

He didn't move out of the way. The book struck the edge of his mask, and a faint sensation spread across his scalp.

Carolina froze, staring at him in shock. She had been certain he would avoid it.

"You actually did that?" he said, narrowing his eyes as he spoke each word with care.

A flicker of doubt tugged at her, but she refused to let it show. Carolina lifted her chin and met his gaze without backing down. If he struck her, then so be it. Taking a hit would be better than standing there like she had no will of her own.

"Yes," she answered, her voice sharp and steady.

His jaw tightened, and without another word, he turned his back on her. Long strides carried him out of the room. He had never been the kind of man to raise his hand against a woman, and he wasn't about to start now. Still, dealing with her tested his patience. He had no intention of arguing any further. "If she wants to starve, that's her choice."

The door slammed shut behind him with such force that she flinched before she could stop herself.

"At least he's gone," she muttered to herself, letting her body fall back onto the bed, her arms stretched above her head.

After a while, she sat up and reached for the book lying twisted on the floor.

"I'm sorry about that," she replied softly, brushing her fingers over the cover. Books had always meant something to her.

A short time later, Dolores arrived with a tray of food. As she handed it over, her eyes flicked down the hallway, and Carolina noticed the hesitation.

"Dona Dolores, did you bring this without telling him?"

"Yes, ma'am," Dolores replied. "Go on, take it." She nudged the tray forward, and Carolina accepted it.

"I don't want you getting in trouble because of me," Carolina said under her breath. Dolores smiled warmly in response.

"There's no need to worry, ma'am," she responded. "Mr. Maximo can be stubborn, but he wouldn't take it out on me. At most, he'll say a few words."

Carolina shook her head with a small smile.

"Thank you," Carolina said, her voice soft as she smiled at the older woman. "Good night, Dona Dolores."

She held onto that small exchange. At least someone here showed her kindness.

"You're welcome, ma'am," Dolores replied gently. "And... try to be patient. He'll come around in time."

With a faint smile, Carolina gave a small shake of her head before shutting the door. He doesn't have to adjust to anything, she thought. He's the one who forced this marriage. I didn't get a choice at all. That thought only deepened the bitterness she already felt toward him.

"Enough, Carolina. Stop thinking and go eat. Meals aren't something you skip."

She headed to wash her hands, said a quiet prayer, then sat down and started eating.

Elsewhere, Maximo sat alone in his room, his mood far from settled. A towel still hung around his waist as he remained seated on the bed.

"That woman has no sense at all," he muttered before dropping back onto the mattress.

What bothered him wasn't just the argument. It was the way she had refused him.

After everything that had happened earlier, he couldn't accept it.

"Well, you didn't pay her," he muttered to himself. Even so, something inside him resisted that thought. She hadn't taken the first offer either.

"She's playing a game. Acting distant so she can get more out of it. I know this kind of behavior."

He turned onto his side and eventually drifted off. Sleep didn't clear his thoughts. Even in his dreams, Carolina stayed there, her temper and stubbornness lingering.

Morning came, and he made his way downstairs for breakfast. After waiting for some time, he turned his gaze toward Dolores and asked where she was, questioning why Carolina had not come down yet.

A trace of worry showed on the older woman's face as she looked at him. Sensing something was off, he set his fork down and turned toward her, already expecting something he wouldn't like.

"Sir... Mrs. Castillo left very early this morning."

His expression tightened.

"She left? Where did she go, Dolores?"

"I don't know, sir," she answered honestly. "I saw her coming down the stairs and called out to her, but she only waved and kept walking."

His hand moved to the napkin on his lap. He wiped his mouth, then tossed it onto the table with clear irritation.

"That woman is trouble," he scoffed. Then his voice rose. "Jacinto!"

Moments later, the servant stepped into the dining room. He removed his hat and lowered his head respectfully.

"Yes, Mr. Castillo?"

"Do you know where my wife went?" Maximo held back his temper as he spoke, though it still edged his tone.

"She asked Fernando to drive her into the city, sir," Jacinto replied. "But he refused. He said he needed to speak with you first. After that, she took out her phone and arranged for a car herself. Then she walked out through the gate."

Maximo drew in a slow breath, forcing himself to stay calm. Part of him wished Fernando had taken her. At least then, he would've known where she was and who she was with. Still, the man hadn't done anything wrong, so there was no reason to fault him.

"Alright. Thank you. Tell Fernando that next time, he's to take her without hesitation. And I expect to be informed of where Mrs. Castillo goes." Another breath followed, and a faint smile touched his lips. There was something in it that felt off. "You can go now, Jacinto."

With a small gesture of his hand, he dismissed him. Jacinto nodded and quietly stepped out.

Maximo rose from his seat, grabbed his keys, and adjusted the mask covering half his face before heading out. He wasn't trying to control her. But letting her wander off alone didn't sit right with him.

She didn't know the area. The people didn't know who she was. If anything happened... That thought alone pushed him forward.

He got into the car and drove off, picking up speed without hesitation. Leaving the farm wasn't something he did often, and he rarely showed himself among the people of Aguas Lindas. He knew what they said about him when he wasn't around.

He drove through the outskirts first, scanning every corner. No sign of her. Street after street passed, and still nothing.

"Damn it. I'll have to look on foot," he muttered, frustration rising. His hand struck the steering wheel.

The car came to a stop. He let out a long breath and pushed the door open halfway. Just as he was about to step out, a voice nearby caught his attention.

"Yes, she's new here. She just arrived, and this already happened to her. Poor thing."

His expression changed at once. Visitors were rare in that place. Which meant...