Page 239 of Stalking Ginevra

He jerks his head to the side, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“What did you do?”

“She came to the casino with a low-life who was about to get himself killed,” he mutters, his gaze not meeting mine. “I separated her from the old bastard and gave her an ultimatum.”

I gulp. “Why didn’t you call me?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I know a cheap attempt to get your attention when I see one. Besides, you were doing so well in your new job. I’d be damned if she derailed your progress.”

“Benito,” I whisper, my chest tightening. “You did that for me?”

“Wasn’t she part of the reason our relationship fell apart?” he growls. “Even if you don’t want me, I still want the best for you. Now, what do you want?”

Gratitude swells in my chest, making my pulse quicken. We’ve been talking almost every day since I kicked him out of my apartment. He’s given me thoughtful gifts, reminded me of better times. Yet he’s withheld the two most important gestures that would have me reeling with gratitude. Fixing Mom’s drinking problem and making me a partner in a prestigious law firm.

Despite all his trips down memory lane, he’s never once brought up risking his life to save mine. I can’t believe he would do something so unselfish without even using it for leverage. This isn’t the man I left.

I shake off that thought, my mind spinning. Benito has a way of altering reality so that all roads lead to him. I need to think straight. Need to protect myself from getting swept away again. Need to make sure he’s truly changed.

“Did you even apologize to me?” I ask. “Are you sorry for what you did or just sorry it backfired?”

Eyes widening, he rears back as if I’ve demanded a slice of the moon. “That’s what you want?” he asks, his words incredulous. “An apology?”

I square my shoulders. “Yes.”

In the blink of an eye, he scoops me up and slings me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Benito,” I scream. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you that apology,” he growls.

ONE HUNDRED EIGHT

BENITO

I tighten my grip around Ginevra’s waist, holding her steady as she kicks and squirms. Her fists slam against my back, her outraged, indignant shrieks echoing through the corridor, but I don’t stop. I’ll endure every ounce of her fury if it means finally making this right.

“Put me down!” She twists. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

Her anger only adds fuel to the fire already burning in my chest. I adjust her over my shoulder, ignoring her nails digging into my back through my jacket. She could claw me raw, and I’d still keep walking.

The elevator doors slide open, and I step inside to press the button. She shoves at my back with both hands, twisting with all the strength in her small, furious body.

“You’re insane,” she yells, her voice breaking.

I hold her tighter as the doors close, sealing us in. The desperation I’ve been holding in for months threatens to burst free but I clench my jaw.

“You asked for an apology,” I say, the words choked. “It’s not enough to tell you I’m sorry. Those are just words. The whole world needs to know I fucked up, and I’ll do everything to win you back.”

She freezes against my shoulder, her breaths coming fast and shallow. She probably thinks I’ve lost my mind, but working on myself behind the scenes isn’t enough. The elevator ascends, each second stretching the anticipation in the air until it thrums.

The doors open, letting in the cacophony of the casino. I step out, carrying her past green-felt tables filled with card shuffles, clinking chips, and chatter.

“Don’t make me part of some spectacle,” she snaps, her voice muffled against my shoulder.

“The only one getting embarrassed here is me.” I continue through the casino floor.

Staff and patrons pause from their games, stunned. Ignoring their stares, I stop in the center of the floor and set Ginevra on her feet.

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