Page 112 of My Sweetest Temptation

“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing with my son?” he snarled at me.

With a hushed tone, I said, “I’m a family friend and his babysitter.”

Tristan’s father stood in the kitchen, oozing authority. It was hard not to notice the striking resemblance between him and Tristan, with their blue eyes and wheat brown hair.

Tristan was clutching the back of my shirt tightly. His father slid his hands into his pockets and turned his attention toward Tristan, his piercing gaze now resting on him.

“Son,” he started sternly. “Go pack your shit. Now.”

Tristan’s grip on my shirt loosened, and he stepped back, slowly walking around me. He glanced at me, and his lips quivered. I gave him a small smile to let him know that everything was going to be okay, but my heart is racing, and my stomach felt like it was tied up in knots. My fingers itched to snatch Tristan back to my side to protect him.

Tristan passed his father, who laid his big hand on his little shoulder. “Do not come out until I say so, okay?” he told Tristan, who nodded in compliance but looked back at me with worry etched on his face. I gave him another smile, pleading with my eyes for him to leave and hopefully to call someone when he saw my phone.

Tristan’s dad looked at me and smirks. “Let’s play a game.” My mind raced with what that could mean.

Yeah, I didn’t want to play any more games.

He took a calculated step toward me.

I instinctively stepped back.

A slight smirk appeared on his face as he circled the table, sliding his finger around the edges.

I gulped nervously, waiting for him to act.

“I heard something interesting,” he began, “a phone call saying my girl and son moved to another city, far away from me while I was locked up. But that can’t be right because she knows better than to leave with my son.”

Before I could process his next move, he stood before me. He wrapped a hand around my neck, his eyes flashing with rage.

“Then after months of trying to find where she took my son,” he growled, his voice like thunder, “she left him with a stranger.”

I swallowed hard, mustering up the courage to respond, but his hands tightened. “I... I’m not —“

“Here is what’s going to happen,” he said, pulling my face closer to his. “You are going to tell me where my girl is, and if not...” He picked me up, and I panicked when my feet dangled off the floor.

“I ca-can’t breathe,” I pleaded, tears filling my eyes and blurring my vision.

His face twisted in a scowl, and he started to squeeze harder. He froze when the sound of a click came from behind him.

Enzo pressed the end of the barrel of a gun in the back of his head “Let her the fuck go,” he said in a murderous tone I had never heard him use before.

He slowly released me, and I tumbled to the ground. Enzo’s gaze shifted to me. “Are you good?”

“Yes,” I responded, shaking slightly and rubbing my neck.

He gave me a curt nod and pressed the gun harder into the man’s head. “Who the fuck are you?” he demanded, his voice laced with contempt.

“None of your goddamn business,” he grit out but kept his disdainful gaze on me.

“You’re wrong. It is my business.” He pushed so hard that the man’s head jolted forward. “And you fucked with the wrong girl.”

“Fuck you,” he snarled.

A loud and piercing crack sliced through the air, his head snapping sharply to the side. The man fell to the ground from the impact, hitting the side of his head on the counter.

I cradled my face as the tears fell, landing on my lips. I looked down to see the man knocked out cold, blood running down the side of his face.

“Is he dead?”

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