Page 70 of Stalking Ginevra

Then my entire world stops.

Terranova stands bent over his desk, his body pressed against a woman’s back. Blonde hair spills across the polished wood as he drives into her with hard, relentless thrusts. Nausea churns in my gut, freezing me in place.

Dad’s office is no longer the place I knew. It’s been defiled, transformed into something grotesque. No wonder the goons were snickering. They knew their boss was having sex.

Not wanting to stick around for Terranova’s tryst, I spin on my heel and reach for the door. Sweat breaks out across my fingers, making them slip over the handle. When the door won’t budge, I tug harder.

Panic grips my throat as the truth slaps me upside the head. Terranova’s goons have either locked the door or are holding it shut. Grunts and gasps and groans fill the small space, each hard thrust making me shudder. The air is thick with the scent of sex, making me sway on my feet.

“Let me out of here,” I yell.

The assholes on the other side of the door snicker.

“Nick…” says a female voice, breathy with the sound of pleasure.

“Tell Miss Di Marco about her father,” Terranova growls.

The words slice through my consciousness like a blade. My skin prickles, and cold dread tightens in my chest. The mere mention of Dad hangs in the air, ready to detonate. Despite every instinct screaming at me to leave, I force my gaze back to that disgusting scene.

The woman splayed out on the desk like a perverted picnic is Martina. Lust contorts her pretty features but her eyes burn with malice. The moment our gazes meet, my stomach plummets with dread.

Lips trembling, she tries to speak, but the words are caught in her throat. She moans and pants with each of his thrusts, but Terranova won't pause long enough for her to catch a breath.

“If you want to come, you’ll tell her.” He punctuates every word with another snap of the hips, as though his dick is forcing out the truth.

“I… was having an affair with your dad.” The words spill out, jagged and broken. “I was also…. Oh… in bed with him… Ah… when the gunman blew out his brains.”

The confession hits like a punch to the gut. I stagger back, my ass hitting the wooden door, my world spinning out of control.

Everything I thought I knew about Martina and Dad shatters into a thousand tiny shards of confusion. My mind reels, flipping through memories like a frantic slideshow. I don’t remember them being particularly close.

“Why would you sleep with my dad?” The question tumbles from my lips a breathy whisper.

Martina’s eyes flash with malevolence, before she releases a breathless laugh. “Because I was too young to realize he was a predator.”

Her words hang in the air, but they can't penetrate the fog of disbelief. This can’t be right—it doesn’t make sense. My pulse races, hammering in my ears, drowning out a reality too painful to face.

“How?” I rasp.

Terranova picks up his strokes, pounding into Martina hard enough to break her in half.

“My parents… Oh, God,” she says with a moan. “They used to send me over to your place.” She shivers as he reaches between their bodies. “You were always… Aaah… Fuck!”

I clench my jaw, trying to follow her train of thought.

“You were always….”

I’m about to tune out when Terranova eases off, allowing Martina to say, “You were always out with the Montesanos, leaving me alone with your dad.” Her voice drips with resentment, and her eyes glint with feral hatred. “You were too preoccupied with Benito to notice me.”

The mention of Benito jolts me out of my shock, and my mind races through old memories for signs I’d overlooked.Martina never mentioned spending time with Dad. Even when he invited her to intern at the firm, I just assumed it was because of our friendship. I spent too much time with my fiancés to notice what was happening.

But Mom did.

She kept insisting that Dad was having an affair with a blonde. I was stupid enough to tell her that he spent all his time with Julian and Martina.

“Is that why you’re sleeping with our boss now? What’s your excuse this time?” I cringe as I say the words, barely able to look at her reddened face. She pants and moans like a mockery of a porn star.

What the hell am I saying? She’s a victim, not a vixen. Dad probably groomed her to submit to his authority.

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