Page 83 of Mason

“That’s cheaper than divorce,” the woman on the couch, Sophia, mutters.

I help Emily to her feet, ignoring the black widow’s comments, but Emily doesn’t, gasping “Sophia, he’s your husband!”

“Was,” Barbara corrects, dusting crumbs off her top. “He smacked me around and told everyone I was the problem. He kept bragging about some big payday coming. I think he got it. Just not the kind he wanted.”

I’d love to know where Grady thought he’d get cash to pay the man, or what good he thought would come out of a Giambelli feud. I’ll never know, and I’ll never care, either.

Anthony stuffs his gun back in the holster under his suit jacket, his eyes darting between Emily and I. Admittedly, we’re standing a little close for comfort. His comfort. He likely doesn’t have much of it since she ran away and went straight to my apartment earlier. “You protected her.”

“And I’d do it again.”

“Why?” He pulls out his phone, probably calling the same cleaner we use to dispose of Carlo. It doesn’t seem like Sophia will mind, either.

“Because she deserves to walk out of here in one piece. She’s not part of this. They dragged her in as an innocent bystander.”

All for some vanity project of Grady’s. He couldn’t be better than Spencer himself so he had to destroy him. Maybe he thought killing me and turning Giambelli on the family would take care of the rest of his problems.

Emily’s silent for once, her bark finally muted as the top dogs circle one another.

Anthony isn’t buying it. He knows. “What do you want? Her fucking virginity? You can have it.”

Her virginity? I glance at Emily, who’s still uncharacteristically quiet.

That explains a lot. The blood. The constant staring at my dick like it was going to bite her.

Pushing aside the desire to punch him in the mouth for talking about her like that and offering her pussy on a platter, I give him my answer, “Her freedom.”

He flinches. “What?”

“She can do whatever she wants. She can go to school, date whoever, marry whoever. None of this archaic daddy knows best shit.”

Emily’s desperately trying to hide tears, her eyes blinking so fast that it must look like strobe lights are going off on her end. I want to smooth her hair, but I think her freedom’s enough to ask for one day. Touching might take him over the edge.

Anthony looks at me like I’m speaking gibberish. “You want her?”

I let out a low breath. “I want her to do what she wants.”

Anthony extends a hand. “You have a deal.”

I shake his hand and turn on my heel to head outside. I can’t get out of this place fast enough, and if it weren’t for our chat about letting Emily choose, I’d drag her with me to save her from the cigarette stench.

I don’t have to.

She follows me outside, the tears flowing freely while she struggles to keep up on the way to my SUV. “Why didn’t you say yes?”

“To what?”

“He offered me to you!” she hisses, grabbing my arm when I reach the driver’s side. “You told him no! Why don’t you want me?”

I lean against the door, more than ready to head home. I’d prefer she go with me, but that’s still to be determined. “I never said I didn’t want you.”

I want her. The jabs. The smart mouth. All of her.

She shakes her head, rubbing at a frustrated tear. “Then why didn’t you say yes?”

“Because it isn’t my choice to make. You aren’t his to give away. You decide what you want.” She can take on anything if she wants. No one’s here to stop her. No one has ever been able to. Anthony might’ve given his blessing in there, but that’s all it really was. Emily’s always done what she wants since the first time I laid eyes on her in that raunchy little dress.

“I want you.” She pulls her cardigan close, shielding her body from the cold.

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