In His Grasp: A Mafia Romance novel Chapter 17

Chapter 17: A Simple Killing

Even through the phone, Isabella could sense that Emanuele was very angry at the moment. Her heart couldn't help but tremble a few times. God, she was genuinely afraid of him. It was like a mouse facing a cat. From the very beginning of this game, she had been at a disadvantage. Could the man beside her become the trump card to turn the situation around?

Isabella wasn't entirely sure, but one thing she could confirm was that Clark didn't seem to fear Emanuele. Despite sensing Emanuele's anger, his actions remained relaxed. One hand casually rested on the steering wheel, and the other held Isabella's phone, his face still sporting a somewhat gentle smile.

"Isabella is right next to me. We're about to have dinner. Emanuele, is it because Isabella's mother wants her to come home for dinner again?" Clark spoke without a hint of fear. They were equals in status, both from influential families, and they had been in contact for a while, so Clark knew what kind of person Emanuele was. He understood his brutality, coldness, and explosive temper, but he wasn't afraid. In fact, he sometimes found a strange enjoyment in witnessing Emanuele's cruelty.

"No," Emanuele replied, realizing that finding another excuse would be too clumsy. Only a fool would believe it. "Where are you having dinner? I'll join you."

Hearing that Emanuele wanted to join them for dinner, Clark was taken aback. "You, a busy man, are off work so early? And you have time to join us for dinner?"

Emanuele glanced around at his current surroundings. At this moment, he was in one of their dungeons, facing a man covered in blood who had just died. The body was gradually stiffening. Emanuele had even pulled out all the man's fingernails and brutally whipped him with a chili-infused whip, leaving not a patch of unharmed skin. But this man had refused to reveal any information about their leader's whereabouts, even though it was clear he had entered Chicago, and more turmoil was about to unfold.

Emanuele was truly busy, but he couldn't forget to eat.

"It's okay; there's always time for a meal," Emanuele replied, asking Clark to send him the restaurant information after they decided where to eat.

Ending the call, Clark turned to Isabella. "Your stepbrother wants to have dinner with us. It's quite amazing. To be honest, I haven't had many meals with him."

Despite their close relationship, they always seemed to miss each other due to their busy schedules. Plus, Clark's attention was often diverted to playing with women, and he would only meet Emanuele occasionally during their bi-monthly meetings.

Today, Emanuele unexpectedly wanted to have dinner with them? Isabella didn't know if it had anything to do with her.

When had Emanuele become so persistent? Thinking of what had happened last night, Isabella fell into distress. She didn't want to go through that again. Emanuele was a contradiction. He allowed her to marry Clark, but he didn't allow her to date someone else first?

She didn't understand, and she didn't want to back down any longer. Retreating further would only make her more passive and eventually strip her of all the rights she should have. With this in mind, Isabella bit her lip and firmly grabbed Clark's arm that was resting on the steering wheel.

As soon as he sat down, Isabella smelled the strong scent of blood emanating from Emanuele. It was clear it wasn't his blood. There was only one possibility-this man had just killed someone!

The smell was intense, and even Clark, sitting across from Emanuele, noticed it. He furrowed his brow and asked, "Emanuele, did you just come back after killing someone? Your clothes reek of blood."

Emanuele nodded, his expression indifferent, as if killing someone was as normal as chopping an onion. What a devil! Sitting next to him, Isabella's body was covered in goosebumps. Did this man have a heart at all? How could he come to dinner right after killing someone?

Isabella quickly realized that not only was he unbothered, but he also talked openly about the act of killing.

"He was Sicilian. I pulled out all his fingernails and whipped his entire body until it was covered in wounds, like a rag. But he still refused to reveal their leader's whereabouts. So, I made sure he'd never talk again-I pulled out his tongue," Emanuele described nonchalantly.

Listening to Emanuele's account, Isabella felt that familiar choking sensation returning. Her stomach churned, and a nauseating feeling surged from her stomach to her throat. She couldn't sit still any longer and abruptly stood up.