Chapter 04~ Find The Girl!

MATEO

Death had a smell.

Tears, blood, sweat, and fear.

The room was cold, dim with the little light coming from the single overhead bulb that flickers every now and then. The man in front of me was trembling, his wrists tied to the arms of the chair, and his ankles bound to the legs.

His face was already bruised, his lips split from the last hit. Yet, he still had the audacity to lie to me!

I crouched in front of him, with my gun resting lightly against his temple. His breathing hitched, his body stiffened, but he still wouldn't talk. 

"You know," I muttered, tapping the side of his head with the barrel. "Loyalty is a virtue, but lying? Lying is a deadly sin." 

"I swear, I don’t know anything," he sobbed, with his eyes wide with terror. "I told you the truth! I don’t know who the donor was or who the sperm was sold to. Please, believe me!" 

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Believe you?" I repeated. "You think I’m stupid? You work in that clinic. You handle the records. Yet you expect me to believe that the sperm just magically disappeared?" 

Tears mixed with the sweat on his face. He shook his head desperately. "It wasn’t me! I swear on my life, I don’t know how it happened!" 

I pressed the gun harder against his temple, forcing his head back. "Swearing on your life doesn’t mean a damn thing to me," I said coldly. "Because if you don’t give me the truth, your life is worth nothing anyway." 

He whimpered, his body shaking violently. "Please… please don’t do this," he begged. "I have a family. I have kids!"

The young man groaned as one of my men drove his fist hard into his stomach. He coughed violently, gasping for air. He was trying every means to ease the pain that came with the strike.

I didn't act. I didn't react. I stood there, watching in patience.

"If you keep lying," my man barked, grabbing him by the collar, "I’ll shove my knife down your throat. Now talk!" 

The man shook his head weakly. "I swear… I have no idea. But… but I did hear there was an emergency operation that day. Since I don’t work in the surgery department, I wasn’t able to know who the patients were." His voice broke as he sobbed. "Please… I’m telling the truth. If I knew anything, I would tell you." 

I narrowed my eyes, watching him closely. His body language, his tone—everything pointed to sincerity. He was terrified, but something still tells me he was hiding something. And I needed to find out what it was.

Slowly, I lowered my gun and stepped back. "If I find out you're lying," I said, staring at him dead in the eyes, "what should I do to you?"

His eyes flew open as he stared back at me, but for some reason he was avoiding my gaze. I knew my instinct was right when it told me this dude was boldly lying to my face. And I hate lies.

With anger, I pulled the trigger, pointing it directly to his face. Then I leaned in closer, still maintaining the cold glare, letting him know I was damn serious when I asked for the truth. "Then tell me the truth. Give me a name." 

"I don’t have one!" he cried out, shaking his head. "I don’t know who bought it! The files were wiped—someone covered their tracks!" 

I exhaled, clearly losing my patience. "Then who had access to the records?" 

He hesitated, looking down, avoiding my gaze. That was his first mistake. 

I grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at me. "Don’t test me," I warned. "If you’re going to waste my time, I might as well pull the trigger now. Who had access to the file!"

His breath came in short gasps, and his eyes darted around the room as if searching for a way out. But there was none. 

"It… it could’ve been Dr. Reynolds," he finally stammered. "He was acting strange the week before… before it happened. He had access to the files… but I don’t know if it was him!" 

I smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?" 

He nodded frantically, tears still streaming down his face. "Please… I told you what I know. Let me go!" 

I stood up, stepping back as I lowered my gun. "You did well," I said. 

For a moment, he looked relieved at my words, and his body sagged against the chair. But then, without hesitation, I raised the gun again—this time, I didn't hesitate. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the room. 

My hand snapped back slightly from the recoil, and I steadied once more before lowering it. His head slumped forward, blood dripping onto the cold floor.

I handed the gun to Enzo who stood beside me, "Clean up this mess," I ordered, already walking away. 

I had a new lead now. Dr. Reynolds.

****

I stood by the glass window, staring at the street below. My mind had already moved past the young man I had just killed and shifted from Dr. Reynold, my next target, to something—or rather, someone else. 

Clara. 

That was her name. 

Something about her fascinated me, though I couldn’t explain why. She looked familiar, yet I couldn’t place where I had seen her before. It was frustrating. And worse, I still couldn’t believe I had passed out because of her. 

That had never happened before. 

For weeks, I had barely slept, but the moment I caught her scent, I drifted into the deepest sleep I had in a long time. No pounding headache. No tightness in my chest. I hadn’t felt this calm in weeks. 

What was it about her? 

I clenched my jaw, trying to shake off the thought, but it stayed with me. 

Something about her mesmerized me.

As I headed for a glass of whiskey, I noticed a small pile of clothes in the corner. They were hers, left behind when she’d fled. I picked up the shirt and held it to my nose. That same warm, calming scent filled my lungs. 

For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the shirt in my hands. How could a complete stranger have this effect on me? Who really is she?

I shook off the thought and called for my men. 

“Does anyone know who the girl was?” I demanded when they gathered. 

The room was silent until one of them hesitantly spoke. “She... uh, she looked familiar.” 

“Familiar how?” I snapped, already growing impatient to hear what he had to say.

“She might be from the church choir,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve seen her a few times before.” 

The church choir? That didn’t fit the picture I had of her, but then again, what did I really know about her?

“I heard Romero’s got his eyes on her.” Another added.

I frowned. “No. He can’t.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I didn’t even understand why my first reaction was to stop him. 

But we all knew Romero. What he did to innocent girls. What was left of them when he was done.

"Why does he want her?" I demanded.

"From what I heard, her uncle’s got debts, and she’s the only thing of value they’ve got." He answered.

At this point, I knew I didn’t just need to find her—I had to. Before Romero or anyone else got to her first.

I turned to the rest of the room. “I want every lead you can get. Where she lives, where she works, everything. And I want it now!”

“Find her,” I ordered.