Page 219 of Snaring Emberly

“Because I know you are Mrs. Roman Montesano.”

“Let go of me.”

His grip tightens. “You ungrateful bitch. I’m the one who’s been running around, making your life easy. Who do you think arranged your well-paid job and this nice little apartment?”

Not Tommy. Tommy isn’t the type of man to sneak around behind anyone’s back and organize anything that doesn’t directly benefit himself. His madness simmers beneath a veneer too thin to conceal his inner psychopath.

“I can’t breathe.”

“Answer my question,” he snarls.

“You,” I rasp. “You’re the one who gave me the help.”

He releases his grip, and I fall forward with my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

“Good girl.” He threads his fingers through my curls. “You should be on your knees, thanking me for saving you from Roman Montesano and his psycho brothers.”

Tommy is the only one I need saving from, but defying him will endanger me and the baby. He’s nothing like Roman, who is always calm when I’m frantic. Lashing out will only make Tommy escalate, so I need to play this cool.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

He pulls on my hair, sending lightning bolts of pain across my scalp. Wincing, I straighten to meet his gaze.

“Tommy, you’re hurting me,” I say.

He releases his grip and rests his hands by his sides. The viciousness on his features melts into a mask of concern.

“Emberly, are you okay?” he asks.

My jaw tightens. I stare up into eyes the same shade of mine but surrounded by whites riddled with tiny red vessels.

This man has to be on some kind of drug.

“I came as soon as I found out Roman Montesano had tracked you to your apartment,” he says, his voice laced with worry. “He’s going to kill you as soon as you give birth.”

Fuck. This bastard just reset.

“Oh.” I round my eyes and place a hand on my chest.

Tommy nods, looking serious. “I saved you once from Montesano, but he’s returned to finish the job he started. Now, it’s time to restore everything that bastard stole from you and make your son the don of New Alderney.”

“What?” I step back. “But I already told you I don’t want?—”

He presses a gun into my belly. “Who said you had a choice?”

“Tommy,” I say with a sob. “How can my baby become a don if you shoot him before he’s born?”

Blinking, he frowns and pulls back the gun. “Right.”

“Could you please give me a minute?” I ask.

He steps back, his gaze darting from my face to my belly to a point on the wall over my shoulder.

“Sorry.” He puts away the gun.

I freeze, my heart hammering like it’s trying to break through my chest. Tommy is clearly going through some kind of episode, and I need to wait for it to pass. Bolting might trigger even more aggression, so I take a deep breath and try to think of a way out.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.