Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife: The Twins Are Not Yours! - Chapter 227

Chapter 227: Getting Answers III
Wasn’t it a curse that no one knew him here? Ewan thought, giving Sandro a backward glance.

The latter shrugged his shoulders; he wasn’t coming to help, and he was going to enjoy seeing Ewan plead—something that wasn’t peculiar to the billionaire, except where Athena and the kids were involved.

Ewan scoffed lightly and reverted his attention to the woman.

What should he do? He didn’t dare grab her arm, even though a light touch, because he was sure the woman would bring down the heavy weight of that spoon on his head. He had just recovered from some brain illness; he wasn’t about to go down for a second round!

“Hello… excuse me…” Ewan finally tried again, this time stepping closer to the woman, his voice a mix of pleading and caution.

But the stout woman chose then to pick up her utensils and retreat back to the inn. Ewan took his lower lip in, watching the woman move heavily towards the entrance of the inn. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips.

“Are you just going to watch her leave? Dude, your social skills are really lacking… now watch me…”

Ewan had been so involved in his thoughts that he hadn’t been aware when Sandro came up to his rear, but he was curious to see the different play his friend would put into motion.

Folding his arms across his chest, he raised an eyebrow, when Sandro flung his arms over the woman’s shoulder, for she had paused by the door to—Ewan didn’t even know why she had paused. She had just suddenly paused at the doorpost.

Sandro’s plan, however, was short-lived.

Ewan’s mouth fell open the next second as he watched the woman elbow Sandro in his ribs. Next, she swiveled, with a speed he didn’t think she would have, and struck the heavy spoon on Sandro’s head.

Sandro, however, was fast enough to put up his hands, so the metal landed clumsily on them. Lucky for him!

“Woman, what the hell!!” Sandro screamed in anger, drawing Ewan out of the temporary haze he had fallen into.

The matter had happened so fast that he hadn’t been able to save his friend. This must be the reason why the woman had paused in her walks, Ewan considered, covering the distance; she had anticipated Sandro making trouble for her.

Oh well. He thought, bending down to help Sandro stand. He couldn’t even act on his anger because he still needed answers.

“You know that wasn’t necessary.” He said to the woman calmly, meeting her tired gaze intensely. “We are just here to ask for directions concerning a friend of ours that came around here.”

The woman scoffed. “That’s a lie. And we both know that.” Her eyes narrowed with suspicion, as if she could see through their every intention.

“How so?” Ewan asked, consciously keeping his nose from squishing from the myriad of spicy and sweaty scents emitting from the woman. The aromas were a potent mix that told tales of a life lived hard.

“Aren’t you here for my niece? I told your master that I will pay the money… just give me some time! Besides, she isn’t here!”

Ewan looked at Sandro, who still had a scowl on his face. The woman was mistaking their identities.

“I think there is a misunderstanding here… ma’am…” Ewan started, gesturing at he and Sandro. “We are not from around here. We came into the environment as tourists…”

The woman scrunched her face, looking at Sandro and Ewan, from head to toe, gauging their accents and type of clothing. “You came here…” Her eyes ran through the environment. “For vacation?” She scoffed again, and shook her head. “You must peg me for a fool because I’m a cook, and own a rundown inn.”

Ewan inhaled deeply for control. He needed to remain calm to get the information he sought. “Listen, woman… we are not here for you or your niece. Hell, we don’t even know who you both are… we are just here for a friend of ours. His name is Zack. His last location was confirmed to be here. Do you have anyone by that name here?”

The woman gave them one last scrutinizing look before nodding her head. “Yes, I have a fellow whose name is Zack. But I doubt he is the friend you are looking for.”

Three minutes later, Ewan and Sandro understood that statement.

In Monty’s inn, which was filled almost to the brim with more males, workers mostly, and a couple of females here and there, there was sitted a Zack at the far end of the room, missing a hand and a big toe, looking seventy, terribly poor.

Definitely not Zack Moore.

“You are right. He is not the one,” Ewan said, ignoring the catcalls and winks he was receiving from the females, especially the one behind the bar with Monty. Her niece, he presumed. He fought to hide the unease this situation had created in him.

“Are you sure your Zack went through here? There aren’t many outsiders that come here. As you can see, its an inn located in a remote village.”

A perfect hideout for Zack until he gets some sort of purpose. Sandro contemplated, nursing a beer while observing the patrons.

“Not many outsiders eh, when was the last time an outsider arrived here?” Ewan asked, taking a sip of beer which he didn’t think was bad for a local place.

But the woman kept silent.

When Ewan raised an eyebrow, she shook her head. “I can’t divulge that information. Even though you claim that the Zack is your friend, I have no way to confirm it. Is there?”

Ewan pursed his lips, wondering how long this dillydallying will continue. He glanced at his wristwatch. Time was running out. “How much do you need to talk?”

The woman scowled in response. “I can’t be bought with money.” Then she hissed loudly, and walked through a door, leading to the kitchen.

“What are we going to do? She is not talking.” Sandro asked, the start of impatience lining his voice.

Ewan tapped his glass, one two, in deep thought, unmoved when the woman’s niece sashayed to him, leaving her duty post.

“Hey handsome…”

Ewan opened his mouth to tell her away, but then a thought occurred to him. He darted a sharp glance at Sandro, who quickly ascertained what was about to happen next.

Sandro would have loved to take over, knowing how much his friend hated this game, but the girl had eyes only for the former, so he pretended like nothing was happening, like nothing would be happening, and continued sipping his drink while his ears remained attuned to the discussion going on between Ewan and the girl.

“What do you want, handsome? I can do anything in the books.” She said, her voice seductive, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and calculation.

“Really, that’s sweet. Do you have somewhere private so that we can talk?” Ewan asked, running his fingers along the bare arms of the girl, while stamping down the disgust, and secondly the impatience, because surely the stout woman would send him out of here should she catch him caressing her beloved niece.

Luckily for him, the girl, who should be in her mid-twenties, was gullible. She nodded quickly, eager to please, eager to show off to the other ladies who had basically been banking on Ewan to notice them.

“Follow me, handsome.” She sashayed away, shaking a butt that was barely covered by the red skirt she was wearing.

Sandro lifted his glass to Ewan as the latter walked by him.

The lady led Ewan through the gawking patrons who catcalled as they moved, to Ewan’s chagrin, toward the stairs.

“My aunt is going to blow hot coals when she finds out what I am doing, but then she lives for my sex tales. It helps her find a good climax all by herself at night,” The lady confided, her words a startling mix of bluntness and vulnerability.

Ewan’s face scrunched up with disgust, unable to help it. Disgust at such matter, at such desperation, at such helplessness, at himself included for encouraging the lady.

She thinks they were going to have sex? He would rather abandon the adventure. He inhaled sharply when the lady stopped in the hallway, on the second room to the left.

“We are here,” She muttered with a voice that was supposed to be sexy but was annoying to Ewan, right before she opened the door, ushering him into a dark, dank room.

“Where are the lights?” Ewan asked, as the girl shut the door after her. The air was thick with a musty odor, a stark contrast to the fresh air he was accustomed to.

“Aunt hasn’t cleared her light bill, so we are getting by the best way we can,” the lady answered, walking slowly amidst the faint darkness to the window.

She opened it, and Ewan prepared to inhale fresh air at least, but his nostrils were rather choked with smoke.

“What the…” He just couldn’t hide his displeasure anymore.

“Sorry about that,” The lady said, laughing at his poshness. “Should I close the windows?”

Ewan shook his head. He would live.

“Alright then, come and sit here, boy…”

He was boy now? Ewan held back a scoff. All for getting answers. When he finally laid his eyes and hands on Zack, the latter will pay!

Still, he complied and sat on the bed, biting down the urge to vomit when the girl caressed his arms, when he caressed her arms, when he looked into her eyes intensely.

There was a time he would have probably slept with the girl before even prodding answers from her; but Ewan was realizing, alongside many other things, that some attributes of him had died, even without him knowing, when he had married Athena.