Mads Mikkelsen as the mystery man

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Fighting Temptation: Capítulo Venti-quattro

"Crap."

I ran a hand through my tousled hair, hoping that I didn't look as old and disgusting as I felt. I probably did, with my old school striped pajamas, a matted red sweatshirt, dingy brown slippers that I just pulled out of the back of my closet, with my black glasses in place of my contacts.

Ew.

I hope I didn't smell as bad as I looked, considering the last time I showered was less than 48 hours ago. Ooh. It was literally 12 in the afternoon on a workday and I was standing in the frozen aisle of Food Lion, searching for pistachio nut ice cream, preferably in a large carton so that I could have it for the next few days. I pondered in thought over the different brands, not noticing that someone was standing behind me. "Oh!" I jumped when something poked me and I turned around to see the end of a white cane hidden between my ankles. "I'm sorry," I recoiled back at the sound of a heavily enriched accent filling my ears. It sounded so familiar yet so strong. "You would think that I have mastered noticing the presence of people." A deep chuckle cracked the air and I pushed my glasses up, zeroing on the person. It was a tall, middle aged man with salt and pepper hair, tanned skin, sunglasses perched over the eyes with a suspicious smirk sat on his lips. He appeared to be 6'0, taut and muscular all over in his crisp, black suit, which made me wonder how a blind person excercised. He seemed to be of a foreign, exotic descent like he wasn't from here.

"No, you're okay," I muttered awkwardly. "I shouldn't have been in the way." I scratched at my neck, berating myself for judging someone so quickly. "If you could be as so kind as to hand a pint of," He muttered something in a different language and it reminded me so much the way that the Adonis spoke. "Sorry, forgot how to say it in this language for a second there. Raspberry, is it?" He nodded towards the Ben and Jerry's Raspberry pint sitting on the shelf and I narrowed my eyes. I felt slightly uncomfortable because it felt like his eyes were following me beneath those black shades. I couldn't see what he was thinking, but his aura felt incredibly dangerous. He made me feel so small, so insignificant and I wanted to flee instantly.

He screamed death.

"S-Sure!" I sputtered and immediately opened the door to the freezer, grabbing the desired pint. "Here you go," I said. "Sir!" I added, wincing as he slowly reached a hand out. Was he reaching for a gun, a knife, a shuriken, a grenade, what? I flinched as I shut my eyes, embracing death. "Thank you." My hand suddenly felt lighter as I cracked open an eye tentatively, watching as he nodded with a smile, his ice cream in hand.

"Good day, now."

The clacking of his white cane echoed throughout the aisle and fading into my memory as I watched him walk away, his steps resembling that of a predator.

Whoever he was, scared me.

"Fuck." I cursed once I realized that I didn't even pick out the ice cream that I wanted. Who the holy hell was that man anyway?

I scoffed at my actions as I pulled out a butter pecan carton, afraid to even glance in the direction of the pistachio nut. That man made me change my mind about eating my favorite ice cream. It felt like he poisoned that ice cream with his stare and I wasn't about to be his next victim. "Shit." I mumbled as I checked myself out, not wanting to socialize with anyone today.

I felt absolutely disgusting and that was putting it lightly.

"God damn it," I cursed to myself as I spotted the man of mystery creeping away into the backseat of an Aston Martin. I stood in the entrance of the mart and watched as he got in, his blind stare never leaving me as he looked out of the window with his sunglasses.

I knew he couldn't see me but it felt as if he saw into my naked soul.

"Not today, Satan." I mumbled to myself as I fumbled with the keys to my Regera, wanting to do nothing but drive back home and hide under my sheets, staining my pillow with tears.

I could have for a few hours but unfortunately, I had an appointment with the chief master of the Manhattan hospitals about what we were going to do thus far. We literally had a criminal as our lead doctor but now we have a mafioso, me: Ramiro Valentin Vega.

Like the pot calling the kettle black.

In addition to that, I had to go meet my prospective right-hand men. My father wanted me to do it as soon as possible so that we could do the proper ceremony of passing down. Sounded like bullshit to me is what it was. If it was up to me, I'd run this whole thing by myself because I didn't like people that much.

As I drove down the familiar streets, wind whipping past my face as I drowned in the sorrows of Sam Smith, I couldn't help but let my eyes fall down to the gold necklace that sat on my collarbone. I still hadn't taken it off. I didn't know what was stopping me, but it felt like there was some sort of invisible force keeping it chained around my neck. Crap is what it was. You don't mean that. I really didn't. I really didn't want to take it off. I really wanted to go back to the moment that he put it around me, keening in joy at the way that he looked at me like there was no one else in the world but me.

I missed that and I missed him.

Terribly.

Wholeheartedly.

Even if he had left my life without a trace, he was still there in my heart.

"Wow." I hadn't even realized that I made it to Wright CO, which was only a few minutes from the hospital, give or take.

It was also only 5 minutes away from where he used to stay. He had moved temporarily from his big mansion to a two-story house, complaining that the distance from the mansion to my house was too far.

Gotta be fucking kidding me.

"I need to stop, seriously. Maybe even go to rehab," As I parked in one of the available parking spots in the deck, I contemplated my future needs. This thing that I was dealing with was some sort of addiction and I needed to get rid of it.

Immediately.

I let out a loud sigh, jumping in fright when I thought that I heard the clacking of that man's cane but as I looked through my rear view mirror, I saw nothing. "Thank fuck," I grabbed onto my chest, trying to regulate my heart attack. I turned off the vehicle and got out with my keys, locking it. Hopefully, Todd would be so nice enough to conclude this meeting within 30 seconds. "Welcome, Mr. Vega," The receptionist greeted me with a smile and it took all I had not to roll my eyes. "Yea, yea, yea, where's Todd's bitch ass?" I grumbled, not realizing what I had said but I couldn't be bothered by it anyway. 

Todd Wright was the chief executive commanding officer over all the Manhattan hospitals. He appointed who got to lead what role and where, interviewed who worked where and why and handled all of the funds necessary and shipments that were delivered to each hospital. He was basically the backbone and he got this tall ass skyscraper to himself.

"Mr. Vega!" I heard my name being called and I turned to see Todd standing in the doorway of a conference room, his tan skin glistened with sweat as his brown hair tousled over his green eyes, his grey pinup suit looking as nice as ever. Bitch brought a suit for every day of the week. "Yo, man, what's up?" I shook his hand and he rolled his eyes. "I'd say that you look nice but we both know your sense of fashion is wack." He grinned as he pulled me into the room with 3 other people. There were others in the back corners but none too important to need my attention. 

My ice cream was probably melting, damn.

"Meet Romand Lawson, Dakota Braxford and Tyler Senna." I looked at the two men and one woman, greeting them simultaneously. "They each manage a hospital here in Manhattan and they will be collaborating with you from here on out so I thought it would be best if you guys met." Todd's bitch ass said so diplomatically and I wanted to applaud on how beautiful it was, had I not have felt like pure horse shit.

"Yea, nice to meet you all. We'll get along just great." I said with a fake shit-eating smile as my body drained itself of energy. 30 seconds was enough, now it was time for me to make my leave. I felt like someone was staring bullets through me and it was enough to make me sweat and jitter all over. 

"Mr. Vega," Todd pulled me to the side, away from everyone else. "I'm not sure what happened with Maximilian," He began and I snorted. "But I'll leave Manhattan Medical up to you, okay?" He looked at me seriously and despite the atrocious outfit that I was wearing, I felt confident in my skills as I was a really young person, young enough that I was too young to be leading a hospital. "You got it, dude!" I tried to smile brightly and whatnot, but it was nothing if I didn't have my shadow with me.

My fucking shadow. 

Years before, it would've been my silhouette in the sun, something that I never thought too hard about but since I met him, everything about me has changed. Even the sun doesn't recognize me anymore because it had become so accustomed to meshing my own shadow with his. 

Fucking fuck is what it is.

A damn shame. 

I hated myself for always turning around, expecting him to be there. Why would he be there?

He left, didn't he?

"You're doing great things, Ramiro." Todd whispered as he shook my hand, taking his leave immediately. I had felt worn out and tired but I had more things to do.

"Son," A hand reached out to grasp my bicep. "Would you be so kind as to direct me to one of your private rooms?" I turned slowly to see where the strong grasp came from and I was startled as I turned to see the man from the grocery store. He looked down at me and tried to smile friendly, but it looked cold on him. My blood immediately ran cold as I froze on the spot, afraid that he would shoot me with the laser beams from his eyes. "S-Sure, no problem!" I tried to laugh a bit as I began to sweat, walking down the hall, the clacking of his cane mirroring the sound of my heart. Why was he here? Who the fuck was he?

"Eh, are you a doctor?" I questioned, trying my hardest not to stutter as this tall man seem to peer down at me with judgment. "No, of course not." There was that accent again, so thick, so foreign. "You could say that I am," He took in a breath, an evil smirk on his face as he took step after step, those sunglasses never leaving my direction. "A businessman of some sort." He let out a dark chuckle and that was all it took for me to turn my head back in the right direction. Nope, not a chance. I wanted so badly for the private rooms to be in sight but they were a ways away and this man's stellar grip on my bicep didn't seem to be letting up.

He was delivering me to my death.

"Ramiro, is it?" The man spoke and that accent literally jolted me forward. "Yes, that's me." I frowned in confusion as to what he wanted. "I heard your name from one of the men in there," He tilted his head and I couldn't tell what he was doing from behind those Raybans. "The son of Raymundo Vega is in front of me, quite interesting." He stroked his stubble with his free hand, his cane continuing to echo throughout the hall. "I've never met someone who decided to be a head doctor in Manhattan instead of continuing the line," I narrowed my eyes as I never mentioned myself being a doctor, much less a head doctor. "Heh, yeah." This man's mystery made me feel so unsure of myself, so creeped out yet so intrigued.

Because he hadn't said who he was.

"I also thought that I would never meet someone who would break into another person's house out of the blue." The man chuckled and my eyes widened as the only ones who knew about that was Damiana, Arabella, my dad and the man whose house I broke into. "What the actual hell?" I muttered as we reached a door. "I thought it was quite interesting," He shrugged, a knowing smile on his lips and I about had it up to here with this man and his edginess. He was scaring me with every single thing that he did. 

"Just who the fuck are you?" I asked seriously. "You know things about me and I'm pretty sure I've never seen you before a day in my damn life! Are you my new stalker or something?!" I sputtered in both fear and in anger as the man all but threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh. He straightened up to his full height, a full-blown grin on his face and he looked utterly malicious. Then he reached out a firm hand and I stared, unsure of what to do. Then he raised a brow and his next words shook me to the core.

"Oh, call me Anton Kozlov."