Chapter 31: Chapter Thirty

Lou’s Café was a small, tucked-away gem near the Eldoria Institute of Technology—the kind of place where no one asked questions. The coffee was strong enough to burn away exhaustion, and the pastries were sweet enough to send someone into a sugar-induced coma.

The café hummed with life—baristas calling out orders, the whir of the espresso machine, and conversations melding into a warm, inviting buzz. As I stepped inside, my eyes swept across the room until they landed on a man seated in the farthest booth, his laptop open, fingers idly drumming against the table.

I made my way over and slid into the seat across from my second cousin, Nathaniel Belmonte—the head of IT at Belmonte Group. He looked up, his sharp blue eyes assessing me before pushing a folder across the table.

“That was quick,” I muttered, flipping it open.

Nathaniel smirked, tapping his laptop. “You underestimate me, cousin. Hacking Alfred’s phone was child’s play.”

My jaw tightened as I scanned the printed messages. Line after line of incriminating texts scrolled before my eyes, revealing a connection I hadn’t anticipated. My grip on the paper tightened.

“These messages…” I exhaled, barely containing my anger. “Alfred and Taron. They knew each other all along.”

“To confirm your suspicions, I hacked Alfred’s phone. His texts tell a story—one that’s been unfolding right under your nose.” Nathaniel hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Alfred is connected to the thief. Taron.”

My expression darkened. “How?”

“They’re not just working together,” Nathaniel said. “They’re half-brothers.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My head snapped up. “What?” I leaned back, trying to process it. “Half-brothers?”

“Yeah.” Nathaniel folded his arms. “Digging through public records confirmed it. They share the same father. He was murdered years ago by—” He hesitated, watching me closely.

I already knew what was coming, but the confirmation still felt like a freight train hitting me head-on.

“James Carter.” My voice was quiet, but the weight behind it was immense.

Nathaniel inclined his head. “Athena’s father. It explains a lot. Revenge, bitterness—it’s personal for them.”

I clenched my fists, my mind racing as I pieced everything together. “So, Alfred got close to Athena because of this? To use her? To get back at her for something she had no part in?”

“It certainly looks that way.” Nathaniel shut his laptop with a decisive click. “Taron carried out the actual theft, but Alfred was the inside man. He fed Taron information, gave him access, and covered for him afterward. I even found records of money transfers between them.”

I exhaled sharply, raking a hand through my hair. “That bastard.” My voice was low, simmering with rage. “Athena trusted him. And he—” I cut myself off, inhaling deeply. I couldn’t let my emotions take over. Not now.

Nathaniel studied me for a moment before speaking. “What’s your next move? It’s personal for them, Eros. Alfred resents Athena just like Taron does. Think about it—his father died because of hers. That kind of hatred doesn’t just fade.”

Confronting Alfred about the theft was inevitable, but doing so might put Athena in even greater danger—especially if Alfred had a hand in her disappearance. The entire situation was spiraling into something more twisted than I could have imagined. First, it was Serena, then Mr. Colton, then Beatrix. And now Alfred and his brother, Taron. I could barely keep up.

This was beginning to feel like a scene from a mystery thriller—except it was real, and I was the detective piecing together a web of suspects, all seemingly connected to Athena’s disappearance. But a nagging thought lingered in the back of my mind: What if I was looking in the wrong direction? What if Beatrix—or even Serena—wasn’t as guilty as I believed?

I didn’t want to think Beatrix could be so heartless as to make Athena disappear simply because she thought she had stolen from her. The idea seemed absurd—but not impossible. After all, Athena’s own father had murdered his wife. Darkness ran deep in some families.

I leaned back, my gaze fixed on the folder. “I need to confront him.” My voice was steady, determination burning in my gray eyes.

Nathaniel arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

I dragged a hand through my hair, my pulse hammering. “I don’t know. But I’m not going to let Athena stay in the dark about this. She deserves the truth. I’ll wait until she comes back. Do you have eyes on Alfred?”

Nathaniel tapped his fingers against the table. “I do. Several, in fact.” He smirked. “He’s still acting like nothing’s wrong. He’s careful, but I’ve been watching him. He doesn’t know I’m onto him yet.” He paused, his expression turning serious. “But you need to be careful too, Eros. If they realize you know, they’ll move fast.”

I let out a slow breath, steadying myself. “I need more. I need to know what their next move is.”

“Already working on it,” Nathaniel assured me. “I installed spyware on Alfred’s phone. If he so much as breathes near Taron, I’ll know.”

I nodded, my focus sharpening. “Good. Keep watching him. I’ll handle the rest.”

Nathaniel gave me a knowing look. “Eros, whatever you’re planning—don’t do anything reckless.”

I met his gaze, my expression unreadable. “I won’t.”

Nathaniel studied me for a long moment before sighing. “Alright. But be careful. Alfred won’t go down without a fight. And if Taron is still lurking around, this could get dangerous. This isn’t just about stolen goods anymore. This is about blood.”

I nodded, standing up and grabbing the folder. “Thanks, Nathaniel. I owe you one.”

Nathaniel smirked. “You owe me several. But we’ll settle that later. Just don’t do anything reckless.” he reiterated.

It all happened in an instant. One moment, I was standing, ready to leave. The next, gunshots shattered the window beside our booth.

Glass sprayed everywhere as I dove for cover, but I wasn’t fast enough. A sharp, searing pain tore through my side as a bullet found its mark.

“Eros!” Nathaniel was beside me in seconds, his hands pressing against the wound. His voice was tight with urgency. “Hey, stay with me! Don’t close your eyes!”

But my thoughts had already begun to drift. If this was it—if I didn’t make it—I would finally see Mom and Isabella again. My father wouldn’t grieve for me, not really. But the rest of my family would. Especially Grandma and Grandpa.

\~~~~

The bright overhead lights of Crescent City Memorial Hospital flickered as I was wheeled down the hallway, my shirt soaked with blood and my breathing ragged. The sharp, burning pain in my side threatened to consume me, but I fought to stay conscious—not after Nathaniel's threat to hurt me if I let myself slip away. 

Nathaniel, his face paler than usual, walked beside the stretcher, gripping his phone tightly in one hand, his other hand stained with my blood—a stark contrast against his crisp white cuff. He had called Dad the moment the ambulance arrived at the cafe, his voice tense yet controlled.

“Stay with me, Eros,” Nathaniel urged, fear tightening his voice.

I clenched my jaw, each bump of the stretcher making the wound burn more. My thoughts sluggishly slipped through the pain, but I caught glimpses of the nurses and doctors moving around me, their voices overlapping.

“We need to remove the bullet and check for internal bleeding,” one of the doctors said, assessing the wound. “Prep him for a scan. Blood pressure’s stable, but he’s losing too much blood.”

The sterile smell of antiseptic and latex filled the air. I exhaled through my nose, my fingers twitching as the cool metal of the gurney pressed into my back. As they wheeled me into the treatment room, the voices of the medical staff blurred together, and exhaustion tugged at me, threatening to pull me under. Nathaniel was left behind as the medical team took over.

Minutes passed in a haze—hands pressing against my wound, voices firing questions at me, a needle pricking my arm as they hooked me up to an IV. The pain barely registered anymore, drowned by the weight of exhaustion. I just wanted to sleep, but the constant chatter of the medical staff kept me tethered to wakefulness.

*****

Leonardo 

I never imagined the kind of call I received five years ago, the one that informed me of the deaths of my wife and daughter. I had been in the middle of an important meeting when Nathaniel's call came through, telling me that Eros had been shot and was en route to the hospital. 

How I left the office remains a blur, a memory I couldn't grasp, but somehow, I found myself in the backseat of my car, shouting at my chauffeur to drive faster.

By the time I arrived, my polished shoes clicking against the sterile hospital floors, Nathaniel was pacing the waiting area. His usual composure was unraveling, tension radiating from him in waves.

“Where is he?” I demanded, my voice sharp. My striking gray eyes, so much like Eros’s, burned with concern.

Nathaniel turned to face me, his posture stiff. “They took him in for scans. It wasn’t a fatal shot—he stayed conscious the entire time.”

I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “What the hell happened?” I asked, my tone gruff.

“The café was attacked. Random gunfire. Eros was hit.” Nathaniel ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling just below the surface. “We don’t know who did it yet.”

Before I could respond, a doctor approached, his expression neutral but professional. “Mr. Belmonte?”

I stepped forward, urgency in my tone. “How is he?”

“The bullet didn’t hit any major organs. It grazed his ribcage and lodged just beneath the skin. We successfully removed it, cleaned the wound, and stitched it up. He’s lucky—it could’ve been much worse.” The doctor glanced at the chart in his hand. “In addition to the gunshot wound, he has a minor cut near his temple, possibly from glass shrapnel.”

My brows furrowed. “A cut?”

"Nothing serious,” the doctor reassured me. “But I imagine he’s in pain. We’ve given him medication, and he’s resting now. You can see him, but only for a few minutes.”

I nodded, exchanging a brief look with Nathaniel before following the doctor down the hallway.