The Sweetest Temptation
Chapter 304: Family reunion

Chapter 304: Family reunion

"Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad," Beatrix attempted to lighten the somber atmosphere.

"No." Remo’s voice cut in, abrupt and filled with a certain finality. He quickly strode towards his parked car, the determination in his steps leaving no room for argument.

"I’ll go talk to him," Rhys volunteered, his response as swift as his actions. He turned and sprinted after Remo, catching up just as he was about to enter the car.

"Hey, wait!" Rhys called out urgently, grabbing the car door before it could be shut.

"Please, just take a moment before you do this."

Remo’s eyes blazed with a mix of frustration and resistance, but Rhys held his ground, unfazed by the intensity of his gaze.

"I know I’ll never truly understand what’s going on with you guys," Rhys began, his voice earnest and firm. "But for Beatrix’s sake, just consider this."

A sarcastic smile tugged at Remo’s lips. "Ah, so, it’s her you’re worried about."

Rhys’s response was immediate, his expression perplexed. "Wouldn’t it be odd if I actually worry about you, too?"

"You have a point."

Remo’s defenses seemed to waver for a moment, and he glanced over Rhys’ shoulder. As he did, he spotted Beatrix and the rest of the group making their way towards them.

"Alright, fine, you guys lead the way. Remo and I will follow," Rhys suggested, attempting to defuse the tension.

"I won’t follow anyone," Remo muttered under his breath, grabbing the car door more firmly.

"Come on, man, it can’t be that awful to visit your mom’s grave. After all, she’s not alive," Rhys urged, trying to reason with his brother.

At the statement that he made, something seemed to snap in Remo. He lunged forward, gripping Rhys’ collar tightly and pulling him closer.

Damien rushed forward, closing the distance with swift determination. "What the hell, man! Let him go!"

Remo’s grip remained firm, his eyes fixed on Rhys with a mix of anger and vulnerability. "If you ever make light of this again, I’ll make sure you regret it," he sneered. Rhys, however, remained oddly calm in the face of his brother’s fury. "Fair enough, but only if you promise to come with us. If it meant nothing to you, you wouldn’t have reacted so impulsively."

After a tense pause, Remo’s grip on Rhys’ collar loosened. He regarded Rhys with a mix of defiance and resignation.

"Fine."

***

They drove in solemn silence until they reached the entrance of the sprawling meadow cemetery, where people wandered amongst the gravestones of their loved ones. The heavy tension that had filled the air gradually dissipated, replaced by an atmosphere of mourning and reflection.

Finding a suitable parking spot, they disembarked and walked through the entrance gate, their steps leading them towards a distinctive tree situated at the heart of the cemetery. This spot had been carefully chosen as it provided an easy landmark to locate her resting place.

However, what they hadn’t anticipated was the sight that greeted them. A man was already standing by her gravestone, exchanging a worn bouquet of red and white roses for fresh ones.

"Is that... Dad?" Beatrix’s voice held a mix of surprise and disbelief. The man turned, revealing himself to be their father, Bolivar Quinn. He stood a few paces away from the grave, hands tucked into his pants pockets, his expression softening as he saw them approach.

"Hello, pumpkin," he greeted warmly, his voice carrying a blend of affection and nostalgia.

Beatrix’s response to her father’s greeting was not immediate. Instead, she narrowed the distance between them, her gaze fixed upon him, as if trying to ascertain whether he was truly standing before her or if her emotions were playing tricks on her. Sensing her uncertainty, he broke the silence once again.

"I’m here for Leticia’s anniversary," he admitted in a plain tone. His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. Without a clear path for the conversation, he shifted his attention back to the tombstone. The group, including Remo, stood united in silence, their eyes resting upon the grave as if seeking a connection to the past. After a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, they each took turns placing flowers on the grave.

"Hi, Mother," Beatrix began, her voice breaking as emotion overcame her. "It’s been so long. How have you been? I hope you’re at peace wherever you are... Today, I brought Stella with me. She’s part of the family now, just like you always wanted."

Stella smiled gently, her head bowed in reverence. Matteo reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers and offering a reassuring squeeze.

"Matteo’s back with us too. He decided to give himself another chance, and he’s making remarkable progress... all thanks to her," Beatrix continued, her words tinged with a mixture of pride and gratitude.

"Remo’s still his usual self, but he’s here, in person, paying his respects," she added, her hand reaching out to hold Remo’s. He appeared taken aback, his gaze locked on Beatrix before he turned his attention back to their mother’s gravestone.

Throughout Beatrix’s heartfelt confession, a weighty silence enveloped the group.

"Why are you here?" Beatrix’s voice shifted, carrying a tinge of anger as she directed her question at Bolivar, who had taken a step back.

"I already told you, it’s your mother’s anniversary," he reiterated.

"What you’re trying to say is, you’ve been coming here?"

Bolivar nodded his reply.

"I told you, this is where I’ve chosen to be. Why can’t you—" Beatrix’s words were delivered in a low, menacing whisper, her frustration and resentment evident.

"I’m so sorry, sweetie," her father’s voice dripped with remorse, each word laden with the weight of regret. Emotions surged within her, and in mere moments, tears traced wet trails down her cheeks.

"She’s made it clear what her decision is, or is there something else you want?" Remo’s confrontational tone cut through the air as he advanced menacingly.

"Leave it," Beatrix whispered, her hand resting gently on Remo’s shoulder. "It’s all right, big brother." She cast him a defeated look, retracting her hand from his shoulder as she moved forward. Reluctantly, Remo stepped back, allowing her to approach Bolivar.

"What do you want now?" Beatrix hissed, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Forgive me, mia principesa," he began, his tone heavy with sincerity.

"Don’t call me that!" Beatrix’s retort was heated, edged with a sense of wounded pride.