Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife The Twins Are Not Yours novel 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."

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