The Sweetest Temptation
Chapter 295: Find him

Chapter 295: Find him

Matteo and Remo had exited the hospital room, leaving Stella in the care of Beatrix, Rhys and Damien. Beatrix had chosen to remain behind, to watch over her while she convalesced. Naturally, her devoted boyfriends, Damian and Rhys, stood guard by her side.

Remo had teased them saying that they could not bear to be without her for even a minute. Their excuse was she was pregnant and could not be left alone. And of course, Remo had to accept that explanation.

The group split on that note, leaving Matteo and himself to find solace in each other’s company.

In the cool evening air, Matteo’s fingers flicked a lighter to life, illuminating the tip of his tobacco stick. Remo accepted the flame, igniting his own cigarette. The two stood side by side.

"She was attacked," Matteo stated with an undertone of bitterness, the tendrils of smoke following his words.

Remo’s demeanor shifted instantly, seriousness etching across his features. "Do you have any idea who the bastard might be?"

Matteo’s gaze fixed on the flickering light of his lighter, his jaw clenching.

"She mentioned a name, but I’m not so sure—" He began cautiously, his voice trailing off as if unsure of the weight his words might carry.

"Give it to me." Remo’s response was swift and commanding, a tone laced with an undercurrent of rage.

Matteo’s gaze shifted to him, a fleeting thought crossing his mind. Despite Remo’s insistence that nothing had transpired between them that night, his reactions to any mention of Stella hinted at emotions he struggled to conceal.

Amidst the gravity of their current discussion, Matteo felt an irresistible urge to broach the subject that had remained unspoken between them. He wanted to ask Remo about that night, to understand if anything more had happened between them and to what extent their connection had transcended.

"Mat," Remo’s voice cut through the air, drawing Matteo’s attention back to the present moment.

Snapping out of his contemplation, Matteo responded, "Yeah, the name she mentioned was Nolan."

A fire ignited in Remo’s eyes, a fierce determination that seemed to consume any semblance of calmness.

"I’ll kill that bastard," Remo declared, his voice laden with a visceral hatred that surprised Matteo. Curiosity got the better of him and so he asked.

"Do you know him?"

The silence that followed was heavy, Remo taking a deep drag from his cigarette, exhaling swirls of smoke that seemed to carry unspoken truths. Finally, he turned to face Matteo squarely, his expression resolute with silent determination.

"I’ll find the bastard. And when I do, I’ll have my turn in tormenting the shit out of him," Remo’s gaze turned distant, fixated on the sprawling parking lot beyond. "And then you’ll end him."

"Remo," Matteo started, his voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and concern.

"I owe that to you as her boyfriend," Remo interrupted, his words carrying a silent promise that settled warmly in Matteo’s chest.

A rare smile curved Matteo’s lips as he gazed out at the same view Remo had chosen. In their unspoken understanding, a bond had solidified, one that surpassed the need for words.

***

The chiming of the doorbell rang familiar in his ears as he made his way into a bookshop on Elm street which he frequented. Remo was all but in a good mood after everything that had happened, and if there was anything that would help him get back to his normal state of mind once again, it was inflicting pain on another.

And as one would expect of a kingpin, he had a lot of people on his list.

Walking in behind him, were a group of men, heavily built in stature and unusually huge for average sized men. About five of them trailed into the bookshop, walking closely behind Remo as if bracing for an unknown attack from any direction.

"Ah, sir Alfonso, my friend, you’ve come. Here, come, have a seat," the shopkeeper, a burly old man riddled with piercings of different sorts and worn-out tattoos, likely in his early fifties, but thoroughly unkempt, said with a nervous smile gracing his face at will.

He ran into the entrance barred by a string of curtains woven from beads and stones of all kinds. Within a few seconds, he arrived with a portable folding chair, crossing over the counter and arranging the seat behind Remo.

Remo returned his attempt at friendliness with a cool smile, devoid of any form of emotion. However, his eyes held a dark aura that hinted at a purpose very uncanny, one that the shopkeeper recognized all too well and therefore refused to make eye contact.

When the old man had arranged the seat for him, he stepped back a few paces, maintaining a somewhat safe distance between himself and Remo who beheld him with a stern gaze. He still prevented himself from making eye contact.

Remo settled himself into the seat and crossed his hands across his chest, fixing his gaze on him.

"Can I get you some—" the old man began, but was swiftly interrupted by a cold demand from Remo.

"Where is it?"

The old man rubbed his palms together, and then proceeded to fumble with his fingernails, darting his gaze around as if waiting for someone else to walk in at any moment.

"Um, why don’t we—"

"Where is it?" Remo asked once again, raising his gaze to study the countenance of the shopkeeper, who eventually locked eyes with him—direct access to his soul. He whimpered slightly and began to stammer.

"Well, sir Alfonso, work has been very slow, so, we haven’t been able to, you know, get things going lately."

Remo’s gaze scanned the barrel of a man with cunning detail on every spot of his body. And as he’d foreseen, the old man was a sly one, untrustworthy in his dealings and unwilling to submit to anyone, no matter the cost it would accrue.

Remo had taken him in after a fight with an opposing group, the old bastard had pleaded for his life endlessly, eventually shedding blood in the process. That was how much he wanted to live out the rest of his miserable life.

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