By his early teens, Emilio already had a sexual history—and a taste for turning it into something ugly.
According to the file Hans had provided, Emilio had at least three deaths on his hands.
All of them young girls.
The listed causes were vague, euphemistic—because the truth was too disgraceful to write plainly. Every case had the same shadow hanging over it: sex, violence, and something done to bodies that couldn't be undone.
Andres's brow tightened with every line he read. "Three deaths… and there wasn't even a ripple?"
Hans looked grim. "When he committed the crimes, Emilio was still underage. And the girls… they were from poor families."
"The Rodriguez family paid generous settlements. Everything was ‘resolved' privately."
Andres's gaze went cold, so cold it warned of violence.
He didn't even want to imagine Maeve Vance falling into Emilio's hands—whether she'd end up like those girls, broken and silenced.
The thought of it sent heat up his spine, rage and dread tangling into something sharp.
He slammed the file down on the table. "Don't let these animals walk away."
Hans hesitated. "And Gianna?"
Andres didn't blink. "Ignore her."
With that handled, Andres suddenly wanted to know what Maeve was doing right now.
He pulled up her number and called.
Once. No answer.
Twice. No answer.
Three times—still nothing.
His expression darkened. Last night he'd watched her take him off her blacklist with his own eyes. It hadn't even been a day. Had she tossed him right back on it?
Just as the thought made him grind his teeth, the call finally connected.
VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Divorce Failed My Wife's Secret Identities Shock the World