Jairo could still feel his bones freezing from the cold shower he had taken all night long, trying to wash that damn drug out of his system. His skin was numb, but his mind was clear. He stepped into the bathroom again that morning, letting another round of cold water run down his body until the anger sitting on his chest thinned out just enough.

When he finally came out of the bathroom, his expression was stone-cold. He dressed slowly, fastening his cuffs with stiff fingers, slipping his gun into its holster. His movements were calm, but his jaw was locked tight.

There was a knock on the door, and a second later, his PA stepped in. Marco stood there, his eyes downcast and shoulders tense.

Jairo's green eyes found him, cold and cutting. The PA was about to speak;

"Not even a word." He warned, his voice low and cold. Marco's throat bobbed as he swallowed his apology back down.

Jairo walked to the vanity table and wore his Rolex, then picked up his phone and dialed his right hand.

"Track my father and tell me his whereabouts. While at it, find a suitable PA for my office work. This one is fired." he spat his last word, ending the call.

Behind him, Marco dropped to his knees.

"Boss, please... forgive me," he pleaded. "He pressured me to do it, I swear..."

"It's taking every ounce of my being not to blow your head off right now." He cut in sharply as he turned fully toward Marco.

Fury now visible on his forehead.

"I hate sneaky cunts who shiver at the mention of a little threat." he added with disgust. He could have killed him for what he did, but he knew his father's threat could be deadly.

Still, that doesn't justify what he did.

Marco's face turned pale at his words. He hated himself for not coming clean earlier.

Jairo's father, Salvatore Vitale, had told him to drug his son's drink with aphrodisiac. The old man was trying to confirm if Jairo was truly attracted to women, hoping to silence the rumors about him being gay once and for all.

Jairo had already taken the drink before Marco confessed. But even with the drug burning through him, he couldn't bring himself to touch any woman. Instead, he stood under an ice-cold shower, forcing the desire out of his body. He would rather go handsy with himself than touch any woman.

Dressed and fully composed on the outside, he threw one last furious glance at the weakling before marching out of the room.

He entered his car and sped out of the hotel without hesitation. His jaw stayed clenched as he gripped the wheel, his mind racing. He had barely been on the road for five minutes when his phone dinged with a message from Donald.

Without slowing down, he reached for his phone and checked the screen. His father's location flashed on the display.

That old man needed to stop meddling in his life.

He dropped the phone on the seat beside him and focused back on the road, only to spot a woman removing her phone from her ear, clearly upset. She looked distracted, her face red, her steps uneven.

He was about to take a turn onto the next street when she suddenly stumbled straight into the path of his car without looking.

His foot slammed hard on the brake.

The car jolted.

His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles going white. He was already on edge, and now this.

He stayed in the seat for a second, trying to catch his breath and collect himself. He was about to reverse and drive off when he heard her voice.

"Just hit me and drive off! It's not like anyone will bury me unless my bitch roommate suddenly grows conscience."

His breath caught.

That voice.

Everything around him seemed to stop. His chest tightened as he tried to register what he heard. Before he knew it, he was out of the car, walking toward the girl on the ground without even thinking.

Then he saw her, she was crying bitterly with her palm on the floor, her shoulders shaking.

She raised her head to him and that was when Jairo felt like he was struck by lightning.

"Don't look at me like that. If you almost hit me and feel guilty, you can skip the pity. I promise my ghost won't haunt you if you run me over right now."

He can't do that.

"Emilia..." He whispered her name. His gaze was locked on her face.

When she looked away, he crouched down in front of her and gently held her cheeks, lifting her head. His heart, however, was hammering in his chest.

The same sapphire blue eyes stared back at him. His heart stilled.

But something was off.

There was no warmth in her eyes. No recognition or admiration. Only shock and confusion.

Same voice. Same hair. Same face. The only difference was the tiny dark mole below her bottom lip.

He remembered the last time he saw her. The fear in her eyes, the blood-soaked cardigan. All the years of searching, almost losing his sanity - all rushed back, choking him.

And now she was here. He couldn't lose her again. Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms.

"Hey, what..."

"I found you," he interrupted, holding her close. His voice quivered as he held the only woman who ever mattered.

Relief. Disbelief. It all hit him at once. What if this was another nightmare? What if he was hallucinating again?

He had searched every corner of the world. Every lead turned up futile. It was like she never existed. He pulled back slightly, cupping her face again, looking at her like she might vanish.

His heart felt it was stabbed by a sharp knife seeing how red her eyes were.

"A..are.. y-you hurt? Tell me. I-I can..." He asked in a shaky breath.

Kara held his gaze a moment longer than she meant to. There was something... desperate in his eyes.

"Who's... Emilia?" she asked gently.

That made him freeze.

His grip loosened, and his eyes locked on hers. Neither of them spoke the next second.

Kara looked down when she couldn't keep up with the staring contest.

"I don't know what just happened, but... maybe you mistook me for someone else. I'm not the name you mentioned." She explained, picking up her bag and the heels she had tossed aside earlier.

Jairo didn't move but stood up with her, watched her, stunned and silent. She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.

"Are you hurt somewhere?" His words were clear this time.

She turned around to meet his forest green eyes. Somehow, the gentleness behind his words made her chest tightened.

"Yes," she whispered with a nod, "I'm hurt in here." She pointed to her chest, her voice cracking as tears threatened to rise again. Her heart ached from everything she had endured.

Jairo's gaze followed her gesture. Her chest? His brows pulled together. Had he hit her?

He glanced quickly at his car, wondering if he had injured her without realizing.

"We need to get you to the hospital." He told her with urgency but she shook her head.

"My heart pain can't be cured by Doctors. Only money can." she replied flatly, using hand gestures as she spoke.

Emilia never used gestures. His eyes moved to her head, searching for any sign of head scar.

He didn't realize that he had taken a step closer. Kara noticed and immediately stepped back.

"You really need to back off." the softness in her tone was gone. There was too much emotion in his eyes, too much longing, and that's what unsettled her the most.

"You don't know me?"

"No, I don't." she replied too bluntly.

His jaw clenched with fury, those fvckers must have put her through a lot that messed with her brain.

Kara noted how dangerous he looked immediately she answered his question. Was she really dealing with this now? From a rejected application... and now a beautiful psycho?

Jairo tried stopping her again.

"Touch me one more time and I'm calling the cops." She warned him, now wary of him. Her hand was already fishing for the pepper spray in her bag.

"What's your name if not..."

"Get away from me, psycho!" She generously emptied the spray on his face.

Jairo jerked back, covering his eyes as the burning hit him. But he made no sound of discomfort. Kara bolted down the street, not daring to look back as she ran.

---

When she got back to her apartment, she finally let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

She found Lina curled up on the couch, munching popcorn and watching a movie. She didn't say a word and walked past her like she wasn't even there. But Lina spoke anyway.

"We need a new roommate unless you want us both kicked out." she reminded her, still staring at the screen.

Kara stopped walking and slowly turned to her. Their eyes met, and she raised both of her middle fingers in her direction.

Lina grabbed a pillow and threw at her, but it didn't reach her. Kara just headed straight to her room and shut the door behind her.

She dropped her bag on the floor and collapsed onto the bed. Her eyes fixed on the ceiling, thoughts buzzing in her head. Rent. Food. That crazy guy from earlier.

She grabbed her phone and typed Emilia into the search bar, curious if anything would come up.

Nothing useful.

With a sigh, she tossed her phone aside and rolled onto her stomach. Her eyelids were heavy, and before she could think about anything else, sleep pulled her still fully dressed.

.

.

.

It was late in the evening when she finally woke up. She freshened up and changed into clean clothes before heading to the kitchen.

Lina was still on the couch, watching movies.

"Can you turn that down? I've got a headache." She muttered as she stirred her pot.

Lina rolled her eyes but grabbed the remote and lowered the volume. That's when they heard a knock at the door.

Both of them paused.

They looked at each other.

"I'm not expecting anyone," Lina said first.

"And I don't have any family." Kara replied dryly.

Lina turned to her with a raised brow. "Then you go open it."

But Kara ignored her and took a seat at the dining table, casually eating her food. With a loud hiss, Lina dragged herself off the couch and went to the door. She pulled it open... and paused.

Her brows lifted slightly when she saw the man standing there. He was tall, good-looking, and clean-cut, holding an envelope in his hand. His hazel eyes met hers, and for a second, she just stared.

"Uh... can I help you?" she asked carefully.

"Good evening. I'm here for Kara Bennett." the man said simply.

"Kara?" Lina repeated, turning halfway. Her eyes met Kara's.

Kara looked up with a confused expression. Her name?

The company...?

She got up quickly and walked to the door, nudging Lina aside with her elbow.

"Yeah, that's me," she said, almost breathless. "But... I thought you were going to send an email instead of..."

Her words trailed off as the man extended the envelope toward her. She hesitated, then slowly reached out and took the envelope, her fingertips brushing its edge.

Donald gave her a polite nod, his hazel eyes scanning her calm and professional, but curious. She wasn't what he expected. Not ugly. Just... different

Kara stepped back and quietly shut the door. When she turned around, Lina was standing there with arms crossed and curiosity all over her face.

"Was he from one of those companies?" she asked curiously.

Kara kept staring at the envelope in her hand, her mind already racing. It had to be from that guy.

"He's just someone I know," she answered casually, walking back toward her room.

Lina scoffed. They both knew Kara didn't have people like him in her life.

She entered her room then closed the door behind her. Sat on the bed, then opened the envelope, only to find a business card.

"Jairo Vitale." She read out his name, furrowing her brows. What kind of man delivers a business card by hand?

Four Days Later

"You've got three seconds to talk. You sold the port codes to Anthonio, didn't you?" Jairo asked coldly, flicking his lighter to life.

The man tied to the chair spat blood, sneering through a busted lip with defiance thick in his eyes.

"Uccidimi e basta. Non mi tirerai fuori un bel niente, capo."

[Just kill me. You won't get any damn thing out of me, boss]

Jairo let out a low, amused chuckle. He loved this part. He ran the blade of his knife through the flame, the steel glinting red-hot. He brought it close to his face, inspecting it from the side as his gaze shifted back to the man.

"That so?" he murmured. "Then you're useless to me."

Without warning, the blade plunged into the man's throat. One swift, practiced motion. The man's body jerked violently, his eyes widening as the defiance in his eyes melted into sheer fear. Jairo watched, a slow grin forming.

"I heard you've got a beautiful wife and a daughter," He twisted the knife, "I hope you remembered to tell them not to walk home alone... the moment you chose to betrayed me."

He pulled the knife free, letting the man gurgle on his own blood. That was punishment enough. His face and shirt were soaked in blood now, but it didn't cool the fire building in his chest.

He stood and stepped back, watching as the man gurgled and writhed.

"You don't get an easy death," he muttered, letting the knife drop to the floor with a sharp clang.

Wiping his hands on the man's shirt, Jairo stepped out of the basement, leaving behind the half-alive man.

Donald was waiting for him at the top of the stairs. He handed Jairo a clean black shirt while his boss stripped off the bloodied white one.

"Has she called?" He asked, buttoning up.

Donald hesitated. "No, boss."

The tension in the room shifted. Jairo's jaw twitched as the blood in his veins seemed to boil again.

He had hoped she would reach out after the envelope.

She wasn't dating anyone which brought him so much relief. Just a roommate and always moving from one job to another. He had already dug up every detail and learnt about her orphanage background, which disturbed him more than he expected.

But he had no real reason to believe she wasn't the woman he fell for. Everything about her was like he remembered.

Sending his business card was an indirect approach of having her number, asking for it was impossible. She would've shot him down.

Donald studied his boss carefully. These past four days... he had been a storm. One mistake from any man was all it took for someone to end up bleeding.

"I'm sure she'll call," He offered as they entered his study, hoping to bring him the tiniest relief.

But a glass cup was flying in his direction the next second, shattering against the wall behind him.

"That's what you fvcking said four days ago!" His eyes burned with rage. "Not even a damn message."

The waiting was killing him.

"I'm going to her. Fvck this waiting. I'm getting her myself."

"And you'll scare her off." Donald stepped forward, his patience thinning.

"She's mine."

"She's normal, Jairo," He shot back. "Not some plaything who wants your money or your power. Hell, she's not even as flashy as the women throwing themselves at you every day."

Jairo's eyes darkened, "Take that back."

Donald raised his hand in surrender, "Sorry." The lady was beautiful - but plain.

He hadn't worked for Jairo back then when she was dating Emilia.

He walked to the bar to pour a glass of whiskey, and handed it to him. Jairo downed the whiskey in one gulp. His glare didn't waver.

"I'll go with a job offer," Donald continued. "She's broke. She needs the money. But she's not desperate enough to sell her pride. She doesn't look like that type of girl. And we're lucky that your PA position is vacant."

"We also need to be smart. We still don't know who took her or what they did. Rushing things might just warn them."

Jairo didn't respond. His fingers twitched around the empty glass but the rage inside him quieted only slightly.

He could still see her, crouched on the sidewalk, heels in her hand, fire in her voice. She didn't remember him. But he remembered every second, and he'd make her remember too. Just that the waiting was driving him insane.

.

.

.

.

"And?" Lina asked, leaning over the kitchen counter, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Kara raised a brow, confused. "And... what?"

"And nothing? That's it? You just ran away after spraying him in the face?"

Kara nodded slowly. "Yeah... I was scared. I thought he might hurt me or something for how I acted. So I panicked, okay?"

Lina was in a suspiciously good mood that morning, to the point of making breakfast for them. Kara had taken that as a sign, that maybe her roommate was in a rare mood for an actual conversation. She decided to risk opening up.

Lina tilted her head, flipping another pancake onto Kara's plate. "I get that, but... have you tried calling him?"

She shook her head. "No. Why would I?"

Lina frowned. "Girl, come on. You're broke. He's rich. Clearly obsessed. Handsome in a scary way as you've said. At least hear him out."

"Lina, that's not funny."

"I'm not joking. You got a free business card, and from what I saw, he meant business. You're sitting here eating my angelic breakfast and acting like you don't need a job. Do you want us both kicked out?"

"This is insane." Kara groaned, burying her face in her hands.

"What's insane is you not even trying. Just call him. We need to know what this is about."

Kara's face paled a little. Her fingers tightened around the fork. "I-I don't know... it felt weird."

Lina rolled her eyes, "You're overthinking it."

She snatched Kara's phone off the counter and, before Kara could protest, pulled out the business card from where it was tucked beside the fruit bowl.

"Wait, what are you... Lina, no!" Kara lunged, but too late.

The number was already dialed. Her heart slammed into her ribs, the phone speaker ringing. On the second ring, the line went through.