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Tommy looms over me like a wolf about to devour its prey. He’s two decades older than Roman and with a wiry build, yet he’s ten times as menacing. He leans so close that his body heat makes me sweat.
My breath hitches. “Wait?—”
His mouth crashes against mine with a ferocity that makes my stomach lurch. I struggle within his grip and shove at his chest, but he’s too strong. Tears prick my eyes as his tongue parts the seam of my lips, but I clamp my teeth shut.
The forced kiss continues until my lungs burn and I’m forced to inhale. My nostrils fill with the mingled scents of chemicals and cigarettes and blood. Nausea takes control of my system, and I retch.
Tommy grinds his erection into my belly and moans. As he grabs my breast, his phone rings.
Finally, he pulls away, his eyes shining with madness. “You’re going to look so pretty, crawling on your hands and knees with that belly dragging on the ground. I can’t wait to cover you with my shit and piss.”
Nausea slaps me in the gut and my skin crawls with revulsion. I gather every ounce of strength from enduring months of Jim’s abuse and hold my features into a mask of calm.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?” I nod toward the bulge in his shirt.
He pulls out the handset, taps a button and grins. “Roman, my boy. So wonderful you’re finally taking my calls.”
I listen to the one-sided conversation with a hand over my mouth.
Roman just agreed to sacrifice his life for mine, but Tommy has no intention of letting me go.
There’s no way for me to warn Roman he’s about to walk into a trap.
SEVENTY-FOUR
ROMAN
I’m ten minutes early to the rendezvous. Isabella Cortese insisted on accompanying me, saying the items I requested are volatile and require special care. After setting up our surprise for Tommy Galliano, she left.
Thoughts of Emberly being tormented by that psychopath supersede my curiosity about Isabella’s motivations. I won’t complain if she wants to kill the man who forced her to cook meth for nearly five years. From what I understand, Galliano despises educated women.
After our mother left, I reached out across the prison grapevine to gather every scrap of information I could find about Galliano. The rumors about the way he treated women were too outlandish to be believed.
There was no way our mother could leave the comfort and safety of the Montesano family to shack up with a monster like that. We all tried to reach out to her, but her responses were cold.
Now that he has Emberly, I can’t stop picturing her being locked away, her mind splintering under the trauma of being imprisoned.
My phone buzzes with a text from Tony, confirming that the men I stationed in the apartment opposite Emberly’s are dead.
My jaw tightens. How the fuck did Galliano learn the extent of my surveillance? I set up the guards and cameras before Emberly even signed her lease.
Another message arrives to inform me that a convoy of vehicles are heading toward the meth lab. The five men I stationed there are already taking strategic positions to defend the cooks with long-range rifles.
My gaze flicks to the clock.
Five minutes to go.
This is a trap.
I know it. Galliano knows it, and so does everyone with two functioning brain cells, but I don’t have a choice.
That bastard has taken the one thing I value above all else, revenge and even the family legacy: Emberly.
I would die for her. Kill for her. Lay entire states to waste for her. Which is why I wear a layer of explosives beneath my jacket powerful enough to reduce an entire city block to rubble.
My phone buzzes as I reach for the door handle. It’s probably another report of Galliano’s troops attacking one of my operations, but I take a glance at the screen.
It’s a message from Emberly’s superintendent.
