The Sweetest Temptation
Chapter 287: Videos

Chapter 287: Videos

His question stunned her to silence, and for a fleeting moment, his heart hoped for a redeeming cause. But he would not be sidetracked. If his assumptions were correct, and she was a mole for another group, then, he needed his head out of the clouds.

"What?!" There was genuine confusion in her expression when he posed the question, but at this point, she might as well eat bricks.

"Don’t fucking play dumb. Tell me who you work for."

"Matteo—I don’t—"

"I won’t be fooled twice, Stella. Who sent you?! Salvatore? Donatello?!" At the mention of those names, recognition dawned in her eyes, giving it a sort of life as if she had been redeemed. It simmered his anger even further.

"Matteo," She started, "please, you have to listen to me—"

"Give me a name, Stella." His voice turned steely with overheating rage.

"I don’t know what—"

"GIVE ME A FUCKING NAME OR I’LL FUCKING SHOOT YOU!" Matteo yelled at the top of his voice, pulling out a polished black and gold rimmed silencer from his suit coat and aiming it right at her face, his eyes never leaving hers.

It was at that moment that her focus waned and her eyes took a distant look. If her remorseful expression did nothing to change his already set mind toward her, what she now wore had managed to do the trick without as much as a fight or challenge.

Her lips curved into a smile, and he would be damned to hell if that was the smile of a traitor who’d managed to weaken her enemy. It was a smile that welcomed defeat in an embrace, a smile that was devoid of any sign of resistance. A smile that welcomed death.

Witnessing tears stream down her cheeks and her arms, initially suspended above her head, droop to her sides, he was engulfed by an overwhelming sense of remorse. She collapsed onto the floor, and when her gaze lifted to meet his, he could see a blend of vulnerability and desperation that shattered his earlier facade of skepticism.

Approaching her as she sat weakened and defenseless, he drew closer to the truth she was finally unveiling. "I’m being blackmailed," her voice quivered, carrying a weight that resonated deeply within him. It was a revelation he might have dismissed as a cunning ploy from a seasoned manipulator, but the rawness in her demeanor disarmed his doubts.

Hovering above her, he leaned in, his presence a mixture of reassurance and curiosity. "Why didn’t you tell me earlier?" he inquired with a gentleness that contrasted with the tension of the situation. Her eyes met his, a tumultuous storm of emotions colliding between them.

Her voice trembled as she began to share her hidden narrative. "Because... it’s tied to my past," she confessed, her gaze unwavering now, locking with his own. The realization struck him forcefully – he knew next to nothing about her background, aside from her connection with Beatrix. The fact that her history was now returning to haunt her suggested a darker involvement, one that was potentially damning.

"And what does your past entail?" he prodded gently, his crouched posture bringing them eye to eye. The silencer, emblematic of his preparedness yet restraint, was placed within arm’s reach, a silent pledge that he would not act unless compelled to do so.

Her gaze flickered to the gun, a fleeting moment where the weight of impending danger seemed to settle upon her. A rueful smile tugged at her lips, a bitter acknowledgment that the weapon symbolized a potential end. Slowly, her eyes rose to meet his.

"It would do me much good if you were responsible to take my life, Mr. Quinn. At least I’d die knowing it was in the right hands."

A sudden shout pierced the air, jolting her from her contemplation.

"Hey!"

His forceful hands clasped her cheeks, a stark contrast to the vulnerability that had been etched across her face.

"Pull yourself together and tell me why the hell someone’s blackmailing you. What are the demands?"

Her response was a sigh of defeat, heavy with the weight of her predicament. "They want ten million dollars within twenty-four hours," she admitted, her voice a muted echo of her own vulnerability. She braced herself for his reaction – a gasp, a flinch, maybe even a reproach for her intended source of the funds. Instead, his next question caught her off guard, spiraling the conversation into a different dimension. It was as though the gravity of the money was overshadowed by his concern for her.

"What was the threat?!" His voice crackled with a sudden fierceness, a raw edge of barely leashed rage that seemed to radiate from him like an electric charge. Her eyes locked onto his, a mixture of shock and disbelief coursing through her. Could Matteo Quinn truly be this concerned about her, to the point of ignoring his empire’s stability for her sake?

"Fucking answer me, Stella," his impatience resonated like a growl, pushing her to the edge.

"He has the pictures and videos—all of them!" Her voice erupted, a torrent of agony and fear lacing her words. But her revelation seemed almost lost on him, the enormity of the monetary demand perhaps overshadowing the gravity of her predicament.

Confusion reigned in his eyes, prompting her to confront him with a gaze that was nothing short of desperate.

"What pictures and videos, Stella? I’m lost here," he admitted, his tone a mixture of perplexity and detachment. It was a reaction she hadn’t expected, and it only amplified the turmoil within her. How could he not understand the severity of the situation, the danger lurking in those damning images?

"No, this can’t be, this can’t be happening," she muttered, her words a disjointed mantra of disbelief, as if she was unraveling before his very eyes. Yet, Matteo wasn’t willing to let her spiral further. He seized her hands, his grip firm as he shook her with a sense of urgency, attempting to pull her back from the precipice of her own mind.