Page 37 of Snaring Emberly

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Page 37 of Snaring Emberly

Emberly Kay’s connection to the Capello estate is on a need-to-know basis. The woman is unpredictable enough without someone revealing the truth that she’s an heiress to a fortune and the spawn of my sworn enemy.

I blow out a breath. Most women in her situation would give up or try to wheedle their way out of being imprisoned, but Emberly perched on the balcony like she was walking a tightrope.

She’s nothing like I expected, and a grudging part of me even admires her spunk.

“Get out your phone and record our conversation.” I say, my adrenaline surging in anticipation of a challenge.

Gil parks behind the other cars, and we step out. As I walk past the procession, the men around the barricade offer more greetings. I take a deep breath and shove down my excitement. The cops don’t know for certain that I’m imprisoning Emberly.

Hell, even Emberly is confused about my intentions. I meant every word when I said she wasn’t being trafficked. It’s not her body I want. It’s her fortune.

That pasty asshole from the nightclub stands beyond the iron gates, holding a bullhorn. He’s run his fingers through his red hair so many times that it lies on his head like a filthy mop. The black suit he wears does nothing to hide that he’s a sore loser who can’t stand the thought that his ex-girlfriend chose me instead of him.

There’s three cop cars and a black sedan parked behind him with their occupants marching toward the gates like they’re ready to storm a castle.

“Good morning, officer,” I drawl, my voice laced with sarcasm. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”

The man’s face tightens. “We have a warrant for the arrest of Emberly Kay. We need to search the premises.”

“And you are?”

“Detective Jim Callahan from the Beaumont City PD,” he says. “We know you have Emberly Kay.”

I cock my head to the side. “Emberly who?”

“Don’t play games with me, Mr. Montesano. I saw you with Emberly last night at the Phoenix.”

“Which one was she?” I ask. “I entertained a lot of young ladies last night and lost track of all their names.”

My men snicker. A few more of them pull out their phones to record Emberly’s ex, whose face has turned a sickly shade of red.

Callahan clenches his teeth. “Witnesses saw you take her through the club’s back exit. Shortly after, your limousine left the premises and drove here.”

I glance at Gil and then toward the others who are still recording. “Are you following my staff? Because that’s harassment. The state of New Alderney already owes me millions in compensation for my false imprisonment.”

He’s about to retort, when I add, “Do you even have a search warrant?”

He pales, his gaze darting from side to side.

“That’s what I thought,” I reply with a sneer. “I’ll forward this footage to my lawyer and add it, along with your confession, to the growing pile of evidence against your department.”

A muscle in his jaw flexes, and he looks like he wants to say something, but he’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut. The officers surrounding him shift uncomfortably, most likely wondering why the fuck they followed this clown to my gates.

“Kindly leave before I call 911,” I say.

Callahan shoots me a glare before turning on his heel and walking back to his vehicle with a stick up his ass. I curl my lip. This bastard wanted to molest Emberly in a cell.

I turn to Gil. “Find out everything you can about this guy.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Gil says.

I wait for the cops to reverse down the hill before letting Gil drive me back to the mansion, where I find Benito leaving the room I left Emberly in, carrying vials of blood.

“What’s this?” I raise my brows.

“The woman at the Di Marco Law Group wants a DNA test,” he replies.

“You couldn’t take a swab from her mouth?”




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