"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...

Maximo pushed his way toward the pair who had been talking. Irritation tightened in his chest. Carolina had given him another reason to be annoyed, and now he had to deal with strangers.

"Excuse me," he said, stopping in front of them. Both women turned at once. The mask gave him away, and they instantly knew who stood before them. Around the village, people whispered another name for him. They called him "The Monster."

"Yes, sir?" one of the women replied, her voice unsteady.

"I caught part of what you were saying. I'm looking for my wife. She has brown hair and honey-colored eyes. She's about medium height, and she just arrived here."

The woman glanced at her companion before she said, "There is someone like that at the bookstore." He gave a quick nod, then turned and headed that way.

The village was small, and there had only ever been one bookstore. That much he still remembered.

As he made his way down the street, people turned to stare. Their whispers followed him, low but constant. He hated every second of it.

Back then, he only visited the farm from time to time, so most people never got a clear look at his face. Years had passed since his last visit. When he returned after everything changed, someone caught sight of him without the mask, without anything to hide what he had become. After that, the story spread fast. People said a monster had taken over La Preciosa farm.

Once the bookstore came into view, he crossed the street without slowing. The moment his hand touched the doorknob, Carolina's laughter drifted through the door.

That sound only made his anger rise.

If she was sick, then she should have been in pain, not laughing like nothing was wrong.

Inside, Carolina stood close to a man with brown hair and dark eyes, talking as if she had no care in the world. From what Maximo could tell, the man looked about the same age as him.

Recognition hit him at once. That man was the one who had seen him.

When she noticed the man at the counter shift his stance, she turned toward him. The light in her eyes faded almost at once. Maximo tightened his lips, then moved straight toward her.

Once he stopped in front of Carolina, his height made the difference impossible to ignore. He stood close to two meters tall, while she barely reached 1.61 meters and remained seated on the low sofa. The way he towered over her made it seem like he might overwhelm her just by standing there.

"So, you're done enjoying yourself?" he asked, his tone edged with irritation.

Carolina narrowed her eyes at him.

"That woman still thinks she can look at me like that?"

"No. You can leave and come back another time." She waved her hand in dismissal and turned her attention back to the man she had been speaking with before Maximo arrived.

His eyes widened at her response. Without holding back, he reached out and seized her arm.

"Mr. Castillo!" the man who had been laughing with Carolina called out as he stepped closer. Maximo shot him a furious look, but it didn't shake him. "Please, your wife injured her foot. You need to be more careful with her."

"And who the hell are you?" Maximo shifted his gaze toward him, his expression hard.

"My name is Bastian Lozano. I own this bookstore, and—"

"What is my wife doing here, standing so close to you?" He turned sharply toward Carolina. "Do you even know this man?"

"I do," Carolina answered in a calm tone.

It took him a moment to process that.

"Since when?" he asked, his patience slipping. She had never been to Aguas Lindas before. There was no reason for her to know anyone here. Had they met online? Had they been talking before? Had she planned to meet him before the wedding, or after?

Her gaze shifted toward the clock.

"I can't say for sure... maybe a few hours? That's what it felt like."

For a brief moment, confusion replaced the anger on Maximo's face. Then surprise flickered across his expression. It didn't last. Once he understood she had been playing with him, the anger returned just as strong.

His attention dropped to her foot, wrapped in bandages.

"So you hurt your ankle?"

"I did, but I'm fine now. Still, thanks for asking... Oh!"

Before she could react further, he had already moved. One arm slid beneath her legs, while the other supported her back. In one motion, he lifted her off the sofa. After that, he turned his head toward Bastian.

"I appreciate you helping my wife," he said, his voice tight. "We'll be leaving now."

Without waiting for a reply, he carried her out with steady steps. Carolina held onto his neck, and neither of them ignored how close they were.

Once they reached the car, he opened the passenger door and set her down carefully. He secured her seatbelt, then walked around and got into the driver's seat.

Silence lingered as they left the village behind. The moment the streets disappeared from view, he finally spoke.

"What exactly were you thinking? Walking around here by yourself?"

"I wanted to look around," she answered.

"You went alone, Carolina? Why didn't you wait for me?" he asked, irritation clear in his voice.

"You told me not to come looking for you. And I don't see how exploring the town counts as something urgent."

He drew in a slow breath. She had thrown his own words right back at him, and she seemed satisfied with it. He might have thought he could control everything she did, but she had no intention of letting that happen.

"Carolina, you're really pushing me right now."

"You're the one who gives unclear instructions. If something goes wrong, that's on you."

"Did you come all the way here on foot?" he asked.

"I did."

For a moment, he glanced at her, then returned his focus to the road ahead. A breath slipped out of him, heavy with frustration.

"Carolina, you don't even know this place. You have no idea who lives here. Something could've gone wrong, and you wouldn't have seen it coming. And on top of that, you started talking to someone you don't even know."

She pressed her lips together. He wasn't wrong. She hadn't thought about it that way. In her mind, a small village meant safety. With so few people around, anyone who tried something would be easy to identify. Still, admitting that out loud wasn't something she planned to do. Besides, there was no way he hadn't noticed how Bastian had acted.

"Then next time, tell your employees to drive me," she snapped. "And as for Bastian, he treated me well. You could learn something from that."

A short laugh escaped him, sharp and filled with disbelief.

"So now this is my fault? You wander around like nothing can touch you, and somehow I'm the problem? And now you're calling me a bad husband?"

"Of course I am," she replied. "That farm belongs to you, doesn't it? And yes, you've been a terrible husband."

"Careless, bold, disrespectful," he said, hitting the steering wheel to drive his point across.

"If that's how you see it, then divorce me," she replied with a shrug, as if it meant nothing at all.

She never saw it coming when Maximo slammed the brakes. The sudden stop threw her forward slightly, and she stared at him like he had lost his mind.

Without a word, he stepped out of the car and dragged a hand through his light hair. Under the sun, the strands caught the light and looked almost golden.

A moment later, he moved around to her side. The shift in his presence sent a cold feeling down her spine. He pulled the door open and unfastened her seatbelt.

"What... what are you doing?"

Instead of answering, he lifted her into his arms and set her down on the hood of the car. He guided her closer to the edge, then positioned himself between her legs.

"Yes."

Silence followed. He reached for her hair and pulled just enough to make her tilt her head up. It didn't hurt, but it forced her to meet his gaze. His green eyes held a sharp intensity.

"You like taking risks, don't you?" he said, leaning in. "You like putting yourself in danger?"

Heat spread through her body as he drew closer.

"I do," she answered, though uncertainty lingered in her voice.

His hand settled on her leg. He traced a slow path upward, his touch steady as it moved higher. By the time his hand reached the edge of her underwear, her breathing had already changed, and her lips parted slightly. When his fingers finally brushed against her, a soft sound escaped her.

"Tell me what you want, Carolina."