Her Very Strict Captain by Carpenter, Maggie (best book club books of all time TXT) 📗

“Six bullets, one for each of you,” he began, enjoying the look of dread and shock on their faces. “Whether you live or die is entirely your choice. You might suffer horribly, or not at all. I strongly suggest you cooperate. You’ll walk out none the worse for wear, and richer than when you walked in. Richard, you’re the closest. Open the door to the Chamber of Conscience. The rest of you follow him in and take the seat with your name on it.”

* * *

No one ever called Conchello stupid.

Pete’s words rang through Scott’s head.

They suddenly made no sense.

Conchello’s bodyguards were locked out of the room, and Conchello was just one man against six. Though he held a gun he was still outnumbered, but glancing at the other three rooms, Scott realized it was possible soldiers lurked behind their closed doors.

The giant clock on the wall read 11:57 p.m.

If Brad could work his magic, in a few minutes the tracker would pull Conchello away, or at least distract him.

“Hurry up,” Conchello barked as Richard opened the door.

Hoping he’d have an opportunity to jump Conchello once the others were out of harm’s way, Scott didn’t move.

“I know you were a Marine,” Conchello snarled, glaring at him, “but don’t think for a minute you’ll get the better of me.”

“I just don’t understand what the fuck is going on here,” Scott replied, striding confidently toward him, “and just to be clear, I was a SEAL. I can snap your neck in under three seconds, and that would be on a lazy day.”

Conchello suddenly shot at the floor. “And I can blow out your knees,” he growled. “Now get the fuck in there.”

Wordlessly turning and heading into the chamber, Scott prepared himself to spin around and take him down, but walking through the door he found a woman lounging in an armchair holding a pistol.

Rosemary.

The infamous housekeeper.

Next to her was the trap door and a tall lever.

Wearing a red leather dress that did nothing to hide her abundant figure, she appeared much older than Scott had expected.

“Beneath your chairs you’ll find two pairs of handcuffs,” Conchello began brusquely. “Cuff your ankles to the legs of the chairs. Specter, get the fuck to your seat or I’ll blow your fucking feet off.”

But just as the drug lord finished speaking, a loud chirp echoed through the room. Snatching his phone from his pocket, he stared wide-eyed at the screen.

Scott wanted to cry in triumph.

The tracker had been triggered.

“The jammer is neutralized,” Brad said urgently in his ear. “We can see through your micro camera and hear you now.”

“Listen to me, Specter,” Sonny snarled. “I’ll be less than a minute. When I get back, if you’re not sitting down and cuffed like the rest of those bozos, you’ll suffer like you can’t even fucking imagine. Rosemary, get your pistol ready.”

“It is already, darling,” she purred, waving it in the air.

“Don’t kill him, but shoot him as many times as it takes to get him in that chair.”

“How much fun will that be?” she cackled, standing up and pointing her weapon at Scott’s crotch. “Go on, handsome, be a good boy for Rosemary or you’ll never fuck again, and I bet you’ve got a list of sluts on speed dial who will miss you terribly.”

“Okay, okay,” Scott said, raising his arms in the air as Conchello hurried from the room.

“Rosemary, why is Sonny doing this?” The pleading question had come from the banker.

It was all Scott needed.

The moment Rosemary glanced away, Scott leapt forward, tackled her to the floor, jerked the gun from her hand, rolled her on top of the trap door, then jumped back and pulled the lever.

With a bone-chilling, high-pitched shriek, she plummeted down the shaft.

“What the bloody hell have you done?” Ewen gasped, the only one to speak as the horrified businessmen stared at the opening in the floor.

“Saved all your asses, now tell me where Conchello is.”

“The dungeon.”

* * *

Conchello had been shocked by the tracker’s unexpected alert, but seeing it came from the BDSM room, a scenario raced through his mind. Ewen had found the cash, somehow smuggled it in when he’d returned, then stashed it during the party. How the tracker had suddenly turned on Sonny had no idea, but he didn’t care.

Opening the armoire and sliding out the drawers, he discovered the wads of bills buried beneath a collection of floggers and ball gags. Breaking into a broad grin, he was about to lift out the cash when he heard a noise.

“I’m a federal agent, and I’m holding Rosemary’s pistol,” Scott declared. “Slowly place your gun on the floor, kick it away, and put your hands behind your neck. I will fire if you don’t comply.”

“I knew you weren’t just a fucking sailor,” Sonny barked, getting ready to spin and shoot as he lifted his gun from its holster.

“It’s over, Conchello. Your jammer’s been deactivated and more agents are on the way. Now slowly place your weapon on the floor, kick it away, and put your hands in the air. I’ll count to three, then I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your shoulder. One—”

Worried Scott might actually make good on his threat, Sonny quickly complied, but as he put the gun on the floor, he frantically searched for a way out.

“I’ll give you millions, in cash,” Sonny shouted. “I have it here in the house. You’ll never have to work another day in your life.”

“Sonny Conchello, you’re under arrest for murder, drug trafficking, money laundering, kidnapping, attempting to bribe—”

“I have powerful lawyers,” he continued, placing his hands behind his neck. “You won’t keep me inside for long. Be smart, take the money.”

As Scott stepped up, grasped his right wrist and quickly lowered it down, Sonny didn’t try to fight. He didn’t stand a chance against the tall, muscled Marine.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Scott began as he slapped on the cuffs. “Anything you say can and will be used against you