Page 132 of Snaring Emberly

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Page 132 of Snaring Emberly

When we reach the door, it opens a fraction, and a pair of eyes peep out from the darkness. Pale illumination glints from a gun aimed at my chest, but the man behind the door exhales and lets us in.

The house’s interior is dimly lit and cluttered with mismatched armchairs. It’s a former brothel with bedrooms that were occupied by so many trafficked women that the walls are coated with the stench of suffering, semen, and sweat.

When I was still behind bars, I ordered the operation dismantled, thinking it belonged to Capello. Recent intel suggests the legal owner is a company that belongs to Tommy Galliano.

“Where is he?” I ask.

“In the bedroom, boss,” the man answers.

I nod and head for the stairs.

“Is she coming?” Gil asks.

“Yeah.”

“What is this place?” the blonde whispers.

Gil murmurs an explanation, and the sound she makes is strangled.

We find Callahan lying naked on the floor of one of the bedrooms with two guns trained to the back of his head.

Good. He’s unhurt.

“Jim,” I say. “You have my permission to look up.”

Callahan raises his head, meeting my gaze with eyes that burn with hatred. “Roman Montesano, the lady killer,” he says through clenched teeth. “You have something that belongs to me.”

I crouch in front of him and frown. “You sent one of your men after Emberly. That was unforgivable. But when you tried to bribe her friend into luring her out from my protection, you marked yourself for death.”

The blonde woman gasps.

Callahan’s gaze wanders to where she stands at the doorway. “Fucking bitch set me up.”

“Look at me,” I say.

He squeezes his eyes shut, his nostrils flaring.

“You imprisoned Emberly, beat her, and kept her as your own personal slave. That’s a mistake you won’t make twice.”

He bares his teeth. “You don’t know who you’re fucking with, boy.”

“You talking about your backup?” I ask.

His eyes snap open.

I smirk. “The two assholes you sent to watch the house have already died of carbon monoxide poisoning.”

“Bastard,” he hisses. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing? The moment Emberly gets her inheritance, she’ll leave you the way she left me.”

My smile falters, and dread drops into my stomach like a boulder. “All this time, I thought you were obsessed with her, but you just want her money.”

“You’re no different,” he spits.

My veins pulse with angry heat, and my hands curl into fists that I itch to pound into his smug face. I’m nothing like this sadistic, opportunistic bastard. I never wanted Emberly’s money, only the return of what was taken.

I turn to the only man not holding a gun to Callahan’s head and say, “It’s time. Bring the girl.”

Gil ushers the whimpering blond toward another man holding a pre-filled syringe.




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