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“You came into my home, tried to hurt someone under my roof, and now you think you can run?”

She writhed in his grip. “Let me go!”

He didn’t budge. Her face behind the mask twisted in pain at the pressure on her arms. He loosened it just slightly, but didn’t let go.

Under her breath, she cursed, “Why won’t this damn Cactus leave me alone? Sooner or later, I’m going to poison him myself.”

He narrowed his eyes, his voice sharp and low. “I thought you were a real doctor. But you’re just a fraud, aren’t you? How many people have you scammed?”

Krystal exhaled sharply, frustration flaring in her eyes. “I’m not a fraud.”

“If that’s true, then why hide your face with this damn mask all the time?” he shot back, reaching for it.

She turned her face away quickly. “Don’t you want Esther to be treated?”

He sneered. “Oh, now you remember her? You nearly killed her, and now you’re lying to me again.”

Krystal rolled her eyes and pushed his hands off her shoulders. “If I weren’t a real doctor, would I be stupid enough to walk into your house and treat her under your nose?”

Their eyes locked.

“She said I was fake. She cried a little, played the victim, and you believed her just like that?” Krystal snapped. “You know her better than I do. Does that sound like someone who wants to be cured?”

Lorenzo’s mind flicked back to the incident where Esther had accused Krystal of spilling coffee on her, pretending to be hurt. A lie. But he didn’t let it show.

“She has no reason to lie,” he said coldly.

Krystal scoffed, folding her arms. “Does she really want to be cured, or is she milking the situation for a reason?”

Lorenzo froze. The memory of Esther’s repeated proposals, the desperate need to keep him close—flashed through his mind. His gaze darkened.

“You seem to know a lot about my life,” he growled.

Krystal stiffened for a second, then shrugged with practiced indifference. “Just good at reading people. Now that you know, I’m leaving.”

‘I need to get away from this Cactus!’ she thought, turning away.

But Lorenzo grabbed her arm and yanked her back roughly.

“You really think I’m going to let you go after a few bullshit theories?”

His voice dropped low and threatening. “I paid you a hell of a lot of money to treat her. Then she cries and says you tried to kill her, and you vanish. Where’s your proof that she lied?”

Krystal took a deep, frustrated breath and turned to face him squarely. “Since I took money from you, Mr. Moretti, I’ll surely cure the patient.”

He didn’t let go. His voice turned to steel. “How the hell am I supposed to trust you? Prove it. Come with me. Treat her. And once she’s fine, I’ll let you go.”

“Then take me there and let me finish the treatment,” she snapped. “But let go of my arm, damn it.”

Lorenzo stared at her for a second, letting go of her arm, then began to turn.

But the next moment, Krystal lunged from behind, slipped something between his lips. Her fingers pressed on the side of his throat instantly, forcing his throat to gulp with practiced ease.

He gagged as she forced him to swallow the pill.

He roughly pushed her off his body, and spun around, furious.

“What the hell—”