CHAPTER 17: More To Catherine

Rick's POV 

"No, ooo! That can't be," I screamed.

The darkness around me felt like it was swallowing me whole. I held onto her tightly, desperate and begging.

"Please don't leave me, please don't go," I cried.

Her hands slowly slipped away from mine, and my eyes dropped as I watched her go.

"Catherine!" I shouted her name so loudly that it echoed through the room.

I opened my eyes slowly. Bright light from the window shone straight into the room, blinding me.

I blinked a few times and slowly looked around, trying to understand where I was.

My body was soaked and weak from sweat, still feeling the effects of the dream.

It was just a dream. A damn, awful dream that felt too real.

I exhaled sharply, discreetly searching for my phone. Can't believe I slept off in such a tightened mood last night.

The memories hitting me hard as I flipped through my phone, searching for the latest news, panic shredding my heart all over again.

I had left the house the moment I realized the damage I would cause if I spent one more second in the same space as Emilia.

It was just so cruel that I let myself buy into those tricks of hers. My arms had flipped through the news all day long until sleep crept into my eyes.

What could I possibly do to save Catherine?

I quickly turned on the phone and continued scrolling the screen desperately, but none of the news headlines popped on a plane crash.

A wave of relief ran down my spine. I tried calling her again, but her numbers still wouldn't connect.

A strange feeling crept up my spine.

I rushed into the hotel bathroom, freshened up, and soon went downstairs to return the room key.

It freaking hurt as my heart lingered on the possibility she was safe. Seated in my car, my heart filled with countless thoughts. It was no use reporting the case to the police.

It would end up turning against me, and I knew the Jones would make sure of that without thinking twice.

I huffed, about to turn on the engine of my car when a beep dropped on my phone. I quickly reached out to it, my heart racing.

"Sir, there is an urgent issue, and I have been trying to reach out to you, but your lines are off."

I flinched, my hands clicked to my jaw, my eyes rolling over the pop-up news.

"Billionaire, Rick Andy, involved in fake drugs."

My heart skipped.

Without a word, I turned on the engine of the car and sped up in the direction. My every instinct screaming trouble looming ahead.

I slammed my hands hard on the steering wheel countless times as I continued speeding. Soon, I was at the hospital compound.

The bustling scene before me sent shivers down my spine. But I took a sharp intake of air and strode off the car, hastily moving towards the entrance.

Scattered around were the media teams, cameras, and the reporters who already had the reports.

I swallowed hard. My heart was boiling with anger.

"Sir, how do you explain your involvement with fake drugs and illegal equipment?" a reporter asked, running to catch up with me.

The question sent a dark feeling through me.

"I have nothing to say, except that these are all lies. The truth will come out soon," I answered and pushed through the crowd of reporters and flashing cameras.

"But sir, there's proof and facts supporting these claims."

"You can't just stay silent. Tell the world why you did this…"

 I slammed the door behind me as I rushed into the hospital.

The place was full of nurses, doctors, and staff, all wearing the same worried look.

"Sir, I think this is all a setup. Someone's trying to ruin the name and reputation of this hospital," Sam reported as soon as he saw me.

I kept walking toward my office, and he followed close behind. I heard the door close behind us.

"Sir, I'm worried this scandal could ruin the deal with Sterling Hospitals if we don't handle it right," he added.

I looked at him, my heart burning with frustration.

"Get the video clips of the drug samples we recently received and send them for a full investigation," I ordered, and he turned to leave.

"Sam, I need this done perfectly." He stopped and nodded. "And make sure you contact Sterling Group. Tell them we're reliable, and this is all fake news," I added, trying to figure out the best next step.

"I'll handle it, sir," he replied and left, slamming the door behind him.

I turned on the system and tried to get over with the news headlines. But then, my phone vibrated, another pop-up notification on my phone interrupting the moment.

I groaned inwardly, ignoring it. But somehow, I wanted to know what it was all about.

It can't get any more worsened.

Briefly reaching for the phone, I flinched.

"If you touch a single strand of my daughter's hair again, you won't know what comes next. This is just a tip of what awaits you."

I dropped back the phone. My heart boiling over. What was worse than death itself?

I huffed, unclipping the upper button of my shirt.

Hot sweat swirled on my forehead, it pulled through my nerves.

Then the sound of the door creaking open followed the stiffening, suffocating silence in the office.

I turned my gaze in the direction. A sharp tire in my heart as my gaze suddenly turned darkened.

"What the heck are you doing in my office?" I barked, my voice roaring through the entire space.

My fingers clinched into fists, my heart beating heavily that I could barely contain.

She ignored, moving closer, a smirk on her face. Each step she took closer sent that urge that surged afresh in my guts.

Something darkened. I wanted to do it, to end all this, but somehow, I restrained, biting the lower of my lips so hard that I tasted blood. Raw. Real. Fierce.

"You should at least offer your wife a seat and a nice welcome," she spat, more like a mock in her tone.

"Leave this minute before I do something drastic we would both regret," I spoke, my voice raw. Guttural.

She scoffed, "What could you possibly do? Squeeze the damn life out of me? I bet you haven't learned your lessons yet," she spat.

A loud groan rumbled through my chest.

Her gaze unreadable.

"I only came here for one thing," she spat after a brief moment of intense silence that made the air more suffocating.

"Come back home, and everything would be cleared off. Your reputation and that of your hospital would be cleared off." She paused, awaiting a reply. "I pleaded with Dad, and he is willing to grant all that if only you do as I say."

"To hell with your fake apologies and your damn father. I don't need your help. You mean nothing to me," I shouted, my voice sharp and angry, carrying audacity.

"Make sure to sign the divorce papers, because…" I paused.

"You never learn, do you?" She blinked her eyes. "We are stuck for life," her tone firm.

"I think I never told you some damn secrets about that Catherine."

My gaze flickered at her. For some reason, I saw confidence, sincerity in her gaze.

My heart ached.

She turned to retrieve a file, which she tossed at me.

I stared at her for a while, hesitation settled in me, then I picked up the file and opened it, taking a deep breath.

My eyes flickered open as I saw the damn pictures; my heart skipped a beat. I narrowed my gaze at Emilia.

"Yes, that's true, she's not who you think she is," she spat, hissing silently and turning away.

"Do you really think I'm stupid enough to believe you after what happened with Emma six years ago?" I shot back, even though deep down I wasn't so sure.

She stopped and turned to me. "I knew you'd doubt me," she said with a sigh. "There's a video clip inside that will clear your doubts. Watch it, and then you'll know whether I'm lying or not."

 She turned and slammed the door as she left.

"No! This can't be," I whispered, fighting the urge to believe what she had just told me.

But I felt different instantly. Memories flashing.

I dipped my hands once more into the envelope, and true to her words, a video device was inside the file.

Hot sweat swirled on my forehead instantly. My blood boiled over. I found my hands clutched to my chest.

What if she's right?

What if there was more to Catherine than I already knew?