Page 57 of Stalking Ginevra

Chatter spreads across the office. Some of their features flicker with surprise, making me wonder if they thought I was sitting on a pile of his ill-gotten gains.

“Because of him, we’re drowning in debt. This morning, loan sharks came after my mother. They attacked her. If I hadn’tbeen there, anything could have happened. He’s put us in the worst kind of danger, and you stand here laughing about us like hyenas.”

The room falls dead silent. No one moves. No one breathes. I don’t care that I’m laying out all my problems to a bunch of assholes who will use it as fodder. They need to know we’re not profiting—we’re suffering.

“All I ask is for a little courtesy. To be treated the same as everyone else in this firm.” My voice tightens. “I’m just trying to survive.”

The weight of judgment presses on my chest, thick and suffocating. I withstand the scrutiny. That masked man has made me endure worse.

Movement in my periphery turns my attention to the corner office, where one of Nick’s goons stands in the doorway, filming. I no longer give a shit. Let him record. Let the world see that I’m innocent.

Silence drags on, making my insides churn. I withstand the scrutiny until Julian shoots out of his seat with an awkward round of applause. My stomach twists. I glance away from him, only to lock gazes with Nick Terranova.

He steps forward, his lips tightening. “Come to my office when you’re finished.”

So much for making a stand. It looks like I’ve talked myself out of a job.

Heart sinking, I step down from the chair and trudge past the cubicles. Each step becomes heavier with the weight of their stares, but I force my head high. If this is my last day at the law firm, then I’ll leave with my dignity.

I step into Terranova’s office, the door clicking shut behind me like a prison gate. He’s already seated at the desk, his silhouette backlit by the window. He sits straighter than last time, his hair slicked back, his features sharper.

Guilt tightens in my chest. Whatever confidence he lost when Dad stole his firm is flooding back to him.

“Sit,” he commands, not even glancing my way.

I take the chair in front of his desk, my spine stiff, bracing for the blow.

“You’re a problem, Miss Di Marco,” he says, his voice cutting like a razor. “A distraction. Your presence here disrupts the office. What you did yesterday in front of a client was unacceptable.”

A flush burns at the base of my throat, but I force my face into a mask of calm. I’ve faced worse. This man won’t see me crack.

Terranova rises from his desk, towering over me like a judge about to smash a gavel on my fate. “Your performance has been underwhelming. I’ve wondered if nepotism is the only reason you’re here.”

The accusation hits like a slap. My jaw tightens, but I stay silent. Defending myself won’t help. He’s already made up his mind.

He steps back. “I was thinking of firing you today.”

The world shifts, and for a second, I feel like I might shatter. I grip the chair, forcing my features to harden. I won’t give in to despair. Not here. Not now.

“But that little speech showed me you’ve got some fight.”

My heart slams against my chest. Blood roars in my ears, but I stay still. I don’t blink. I won’t let him see the flicker of hope.

“I’m giving you one last chance. Bob Brisket at the Meat Show is having legal issues. Go fix them.” He lowers himself back into his seat.

“I’ll handle it,” I rasp.

His eyes stay locked on mine, unmoving. “See that you do.”

I push to my feet and walk to the exit on trembling legs. It’s time to get my career back on track.

TWENTY-FOUR

BENITO

I shove the door open with enough force to cut through the low murmur of voices. As I step into the meeting room, its occupants fall silent.

Eight Mortis House boys march in behind me, armed with files and firearms. Fear lingers in the air, mingling with the stale scent of sweat. I sweep my gaze over the casino’s department heads, who seem more concerned that I’ve entered with backup.