Chapter 159 – Stupid Little Doll
Chapter 159 – Stupid Little Doll
Katarina’s POV
“Where the hell am I?”
The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was light — too much of it. Bright, white, blinding. It stabbed behind my eyelids. Then faces. Blurry, moving around me. Voices overlapping.
“She’s awake!” someone shouted.
“Get the doctor!”
“Easy, easy— don’t move her yet.”
I blinked fast, trying to see through the haze. My head throbbed like I’d been hit with a brick. Everything smelled like alcohol wipes and metal. A hospital. I was in a damn hospital.
“What—” My voice came out hoarse. “What happened?”
A nurse leaned over me, smiling the way people do when they’re trying to calm a bomb. “You fainted, signorina. You’re safe. Please relax.”
Fainted?
I tried to sit up, but the IV tugged at my arm. “No, I— there was a crash. At the track. Where’s—” My stomach turned. “Where’s Valentino?”
The nurse glanced toward the door. “He’s fine, signorina. Resting in the next room.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My chest ached. My body felt like it had been wrung out. “How bad was it?”
“Not bad for you,” she said. “You fainted after the car hit the barrier. Just shock and exhaustion.”
So I wasn’t really hurt. Just scared out of my mind.
“Can I see him?” I asked.
Before she could answer, the door opened.
Valentino walked in, shirt half-unbuttoned, a thin bandage on his temple. He looked like hell — angry, tired, and still too handsome for it to be fair.
“Hey,” I said softly. “Are you okay?”
He gave a dry laugh. “You’re the one in the hospital bed, little fox.”
“Yeah, but you were the one driving.” I squinted at him. “You sure you didn’t forget how to steer?”
His mouth twitched, almost a smile. “Funny. I didn’t lose control. Someone tampered with the car.”
“What?” I sat up a little. “Tampered? What do you mean?”
He rubbed his jaw, pacing near the foot of the bed. “The brakes were cut. Or the system was messed with. I could feel it the second I hit the turn. Someone wanted me to crash.”
“Who would—” I started, but the door opened again.
Fiorella stepped inside, face painted in fake worry. “Oh, thank God you’re awake.”
She moved to my bedside, voice sugary. “You poor thing. You scared us all.”
I stared at her. Not a scratch on her. Not a bruise. Nothing. She looked like she’d just walked out of a magazine shoot. “You were in the car,” I said slowly. “You’re fine?”
She smiled and held up her hand, the same hand that had been bandaged since yesterday. “Seatbelt and helmet,” she said sweetly. “I told Valentino to wear one, but he’s too proud.”
He ignored her completely. “Fiorella,” he said, voice tight. “You saw the car before the race?”
She tilted her head. “Why would I look at your car? I’m not your mechanic.”
“Because you were standing next to it,” he shot back. “And because I remember you handing me that bottle of water.”
Her smile flickered. “So now you think I poisoned your water?”
“I didn’t say that.” His eyes narrowed. “Yet.”
Fiorella sighed, like she was bored. “You hit your head, Tino. Maybe you’re confused.”
“I’m not confused,” he said. “And I don’t forget details.”
The tension between them was thick enough to choke on. I cleared my throat. “Maybe let’s not fight in the hospital?”
Fiorella turned her attention to me, voice soft again. “He nearly drove straight into you, Katarina. I was screaming for him to stop.”
“That’s not true,” Valentino snapped. “Don’t twist it.”
She shrugged. “Maybe it’s the concussion talking. Or maybe…” Her eyes slid toward me, glinting. “It’s the prophecy.”
Everything in the room went still.
“The what?” I asked.
Fiorella smiled faintly, stepping closer. “The prophecy that one of the De Luca twins will die by your hand. And the other will live because of you.”
My stomach dropped. “What did you just say?”
Valentino’s head snapped up. He moved fast — too fast. His hand shot out, grabbing Fiorella by the throat and slamming her against the wall. The heart monitor beside me beeped faster with every second.
“How the hell do you know that?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Who told you that?”
She clawed at his wrist. “You’re hurting me!”
“Answer the question!” he barked. “Only Vittorio and I know that prophecy. Only us. So how the hell do you know?”
Her voice came out in a gasp. “I—I heard the maids gossiping about it! They said they overheard you and Vittorio talking months ago!”
He tightened his grip. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not!” she wheezed. “Ask them!”
“Valentino!” I shouted. “Let her go!”
He turned his head toward me, eyes blazing. “You believe her?”
“I don’t know what I believe,” I said, my voice shaking. “But choking her isn’t helping.”
He stared at me for a long second before finally releasing her. She coughed, sliding down the wall, gasping for air.
I looked between them, my heart pounding. “What prophecy? What does it mean?”
Neither of them spoke.
“Valentino!” I pressed. “Tell me the truth.”
He rubbed his face, looking tired. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” I said sharply. “She just said I’m supposed to kill one of you. That’s not nothing!”
Fiorella gave a weak, mocking laugh. “Maybe it’s already starting.”
Valentino glared at her. “Shut up.”
I swung my legs off the bed, yanking the IV out. “Enough secrets. I’m not sitting here like some stupid doll while everyone decides my destiny.”
“Katarina—” he started, but I was already standing.
The nurse burst in. “Signorina, you can’t—”
“I’m fine,” I snapped, brushing past her.
My feet were bare, cold on the tile. My hospital gown fluttered around my knees as I stormed down the hall. My head was pounding, my chest tight. I didn’t care. I needed air. I needed truth.
The hallway smelled like disinfectant and fear. Every step echoed. My bracelet was warm against my wrist again — faint but pulsing. Warning me.
I turned a corner—and ran into a wall.
No. Not a wall. A man.
Hard chest. Expensive cologne. The scent of smoke and gunmetal.
I looked up.
Vittorio.
His face was carved from stone. Dark suit, eyes burning like coals. He looked furious—and exhausted.
“Where do you think you’re going, little fox?” His voice was low, dangerous, too calm.
“I’m leaving,” I said. My voice wobbled, but I held his gaze. “You don’t own me.”
His mouth twitched. “You’re carrying my child. That makes you mine until I say otherwise.”
The words hit like a slap. “You don’t even know if I’m pregnant!”
“I will soon.” His tone didn’t change. “You shouldn’t have been there. The race, the crowd, the crash—”
“It wasn’t my idea!” I shouted. “Your brother invited me!”
“And I’ll deal with him,” he said, eyes hardening.
“Deal with him?” I repeated. “You mean hurt him?”
“If he endangered you, yes.”
I stared at him. “You can’t just—”
He cut me off, stepping closer. “I can. And I will.”
The air around him felt electric. Every inch of him screamed control, danger, authority. But beneath it, I saw something else. Fear. Real fear.
“You think I’m fragile,” I said quietly. “You think I’ll break.”
He didn’t answer.
“I’m not,” I whispered. “Whatever that prophecy is—whatever madness you and Valentino believe—I’m not killing anyone.”
His jaw tightened. “You don’t get to decide fate.”
“Watch me,” I said.
We stood there, silent, the hallway humming with tension. Nurses peeked around corners but didn’t dare interrupt.
Then, somewhere down the hall, I heard footsteps. Valentino’s voice calling my name. “Katarina!”
Vittorio didn’t move. His eyes never left mine.
“You should’ve stayed in bed,” he said finally. “You’re in more danger than you realize.”
I swallowed hard. “Then tell me what’s going on.”
He looked past me toward the approaching footsteps, then back at me. “Not here.”
He took my wrist — not rough, but firm — and pulled me gently .
“Where are we going?” I asked, half resisting.
“To get answers,” he said. “And to make sure no one tries to kill you again.”
I looked back at my bed space, at the shadow of Valentino appearing in the glass doorway, his face unreadable.
Two brothers.
One prophecy.
And me — standing in the middle with no idea who was supposed to die.