Page 200 of Stalking Ginevra

Her breath hitches. “Sometimes, I think of leaving, but I’m all he has.”

“Even if he uses you as his punching bag?” I ask. “You’re more than just a tool.”

She sniffles.

“Where was he while you were abused in foster care?”

She stares at the dirty floor, her fingers clenching around the fabric of her pants. “He didn’t know about me.”

“Did he marry your mother?”

“Yes, why?”

“And he was still married when she died?”

She nods.

“Then how did he not know his wife had a daughter if they were still together when she passed?”

A sharp breath whistles through her front teeth. “I never thought about it that way.”

Triumph flares in my chest, but I school my features into an even mask. Some men have a way of shifting reality to suit their purposes. I force myself not to think of how Benito orchestrated a situation where I was in so much peril that I had to throw myself at his feet. Instead, I focus on Carla.

“Your dad is in a lot of trouble. Benito went to great lengths to secure me as his wife. If he catches up with us, he’ll kill him slowly.” I shudder at the memory of Brisket—no, Benito—handing me a twitching heart.

Carla makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat.

“But you can save him,” I say. “And save yourself.”

“How?”

“Remove these cuffs. Help me escape once more.”

Her gaze flicks to the door, and I force my teeth not to grind. Breaking out of abuse isn’t easy.

“I just wanted him to be proud,” she murmurs. “I thought maybe if I helped him, he’d see me as a good daughter.”

“But you’re not just a good daughter. You’re a good friend,” I say, making sure every word lands. “I see a woman who fought with a man four times her size to save a stranger?—”

“Malfi.”

“What?”

“That was Malfi, the casino’s security chief. Mr. Montesano stationed him in the room opposite to scare you into staying in the honeymoon suite.”

The words land like a punch to the gut. I gulp, trying to digest this new facet to Benito’s machinations. Now isn’t the time to focus on his twisted games. I need to learn from that manipulative bastard and slither my way out of captivity.

“Anyway,” I say through clenched teeth. “You still deserve better than to get caught up when Benito breaks in with a small army.”

She looks at me, her eyes shimmering. For a heartbeat, it seems she might cry, but then she turns her gaze back to the door. “I should warn Dad.”

“He already knows,” I say with a sigh. “He took my mom to the Montesano mansion, where there was a brutal shootout. He’s seen the army of men working for the family, yet he still decided to hold me hostage.”

Pain flickers across her features. “How can I save him?”

“Release me. I’ll return to Benito, take the blame, and apologize for walking out.”

“But he’ll lock you up again,” she whispers.

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