Page 68 of Snaring Emberly

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Page 68 of Snaring Emberly

Good.

A knock sounds on the door. I’m about to tell my brother to fuck off, when a female voice says, “It’s me.”

“Sofia.”

She peeks inside. “You weren’t in your room, so I brought breakfast for two.”

“Do you have your gun?” I ask.

She frowns. “Of course.”

“Stay here. If anyone but me, my brothers, or Dr. Brunelli steps through the door to the pool house, you have my permission to put a bullet through their skull.”

After getting dressed, I walk through the mansion and into the wine cellar, pull on the door disguised as a pair of stacked barrels, and descend the darkened steps.

Great-grandfather Paolo had the basement excavated during the prohibition era to store the family’s distillery and private reserves of alcohol. Grandfather Giovanni divided the space into separate chambers, and Dad converted a few of them for interrogations and long-term confinement.

I follow a trail of blood to the first interrogation room, where Dominic sits naked in the windowless space on a metal chair bolted to the floor. Thick straps attach his arms, legs, and neck to the furniture, making sure he can’t so much as flinch.

Cesare leans against the wall, which is soundproofed with gray insulation. The only source of illumination comes from a flickering lightbulb, which he installed to make the place look sinister.

“Is he awake yet?” I ask.

“Pretending to sleep.” Cesare nods toward his bruised face and whistles. “I’m impressed he’s still alive.”

“I only hit him once on the head, then focused on breaking his bones.”

My brother snickers. “Makes them last longer.”

“Long enough to talk.”

“I ain’t saying shit.” Dominic’s words are garbled. I’m surprised he can even form sentences through a mouthful of broken teeth. His face is a mass of swelling and open wounds that leak blood over his chest.

I fold my arms. “We don’t have time, so I’ll keep this brief. Benito is with your daughter as we speak.”

“Bullshit.” He spits a spray of blood.

“Verona Marino, freshman student at Tourgis Academy?” I ask.

He stiffens. “You wouldn’t.”

I lean over him, my teeth clenched. “Five years ago, I would never have stooped so low, but our family was betrayed by its most trusted friend. I’ve had years to guarantee that the next insider who fucks with us will become a cautionary tale.”

He shivers. “Boss, you can’t?—”

“Call Benito.”

Cesare walks to the landline and dials the academy. My other brother wouldn’t have reached it so quickly, but he called its principal in advance, informing them to pull out Verona for an urgent call.

“Hello?” a soft voice sounds through the speakers.

“Baby,” Dominic says.

There’s a pause before she replies. “Papa?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Dominic replies, his voice heavy with grief.

“Are you okay?”




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