Page 83 of Stalking Ginevra

While I’m processing Benito’s indifference, Mom seizes a champagne flute from a passing tray and sways toward him.

“Benito, darling,” she calls out, her voice carrying across the boutique. “Thank you for arranging the doctor after the shooting.”

My heart lurches. Shooting?

I push past an associate holding a tray, catching up with her just as Benito’s eyes flicker with mild acknowledgment. His focus shifts immediately back to his new woman, who watches us with cool detachment.

“What shooting?” I ask, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.

Mom waves a hand. “Oh, it was just a little thing at Roman’s party. Some gunshots, a bit of chaos, and I got trampled in the mess. But Benito had me stay over at this house. Even got the family doctor to check me over.”

My stomach plummets through the floor. I knew Bossanova took Mom to the Montesano mansion, knew they spent the night there, but this is a whole level of negligence. I search Benito’s face for any hint of a reaction, but his eyes slide right past us, landing on the woman holding up a set of red lingerie.

“What do you think, baby?” she purrs. “Should I try this on?”

The tension in my chest tightens, sharp as a wire. I manage to force out the words, “Thank you for helping my mom.”

Without looking in my direction, he inclines his head, as if I’m beneath his notice. The woman beside him flashes a dazzling smile, enjoying every second of my discomfort.

Benito leans into her, murmurs something low before leading her toward the fitting rooms. She glances back at me, her eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction, before disappearing behind the door.

Nausea twists in my gut.

They’re going to fuck. Fill the boutique with the sounds of their pleasure.

Whatever love he had for me is gone. The Benito I knew was a gentleman, one who would never sink so low as to flaunt another woman to carve open my heart. But I guess that man no longer exists.

Mom places a hand on my shoulder. “Ginny?”

“Can we go somewhere else?” I ask, trying to hold back a well of tears. “I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.”

THIRTY-SIX

BENITO

Hours after that farce with my cousin in the Dolce Vita changing room, I’m parked outside the Di Marco Group’s building. My eyes are glued to the footage of Nick Terranova’s office.

I'm surprised Elania even agreed to the charade after that bullshit she pulled at the crematorium. Aria refused on the grounds that she wasn’t ‘wearing no fucking wig to fuck with a relationship that could be fixed with a conversation,’ while her less pleasant twin jumped at the chance to cause mayhem. I needed to remind Ginevra she had an option better than Brisket, yet she failed to fall onto her knees.

Ginevra sits across the desk from Nick, her shoulders tense, her expression wavering between exhaustion and suspicion. She’s about to regret ever answering his call on a Saturday.

I made sure Nick knew exactly what to say to twist the knife. Since she tried to drag Brisket into solving her problems, it’s time to escalate. The feed flickers as Nick leans back, his lips curling into a smug grin.

He’s about to drop a pile of shit on her pretty little head, and I’m here for the fallout.

I lean forward, the anticipation a dark thrill. This is where the pressure builds, where she starts to realize there’s no one willing to help her but me.

Onscreen, Nick steeples his fingers. “There’s a tape of you at the Meat Show, with Mr. Brisket.”

Gasping, Ginevra tightens her grip on the chair. I smirk. The footage only exists in the privacy of my phone. No one gets to see Ginevra but me. However, I want her to believe Brisket would expose her to the world.

“I didn’t make a tape,” she rasps.

“The recording says otherwise. You were supposed to help Mr. Brisket with his legal issue, not fuck him.”

She stiffens, her eyes wide with shock. I breathe hard, savoring her discomfort, loving how those pretty lips tremble. In ten minutes, she’ll be crawling to me, begging on her knees where she belongs.

Nick leans forward, his smile chilling. “Care to watch it? See for yourself?”

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