Page 85 of Stalking Ginevra

“Sure thing, Mr. Montesano,” says the foreman.

Ending the call, I glance at the firm’s double doors, wondering when she’ll exit, when my phone rings. Nick’s number flashes on the screen, and I answer.

“It’s done,” Nick says. “But something’s off. Martina was supposed to take her out of the office to talk, but Miss Di Marco shoved her against the wall.”

“Shit,” I hiss, my plans to coincide with her shattering.

“Yeah. Last I saw of her, she was followed into the elevator by a male colleague.”

“Who?”

“Julian Riva. He’s harmless—a bit of a leech, but nothing more.”

“What does that mean?” I snarl.

Nick hesitates, and I can practically hear him choosing his words. “The little asshole has a crush on Miss Di Marco.”

My jaw tightens. I have no doubt that this Julian Riva character will take this opportunity to swoop in and make a move on my Ginevra.

“Send the interns after them,” I snap, hanging up before Nick can respond.

My gaze returns to the window, where there’s no sign of Ginevra or Julian exiting the building. I grind my teeth.

Julian Riva wasn’t part of any plan.

THIRTY-SEVEN

GINEVRA

Tears blur my vision as I stumble through the office, each step a struggle to keep from breaking into pieces. Everyone working the weekend rises from the seats, their eyes boring into my back.

I reach the elevator, pressing the call button over and over, needing to get out. Mom was right. I should have left with my dignity when I discovered the truth. Nothing good could have come from staying in a firm Dad stole from the Terranova family.

The doors open, and I step inside, squirming at the sight of my tear-streaked face. I’ve become so pathetic, it hurts. Before I can press the button to go down, the doors slide open again, and Julian steps in.

Stomach plummeting, I reach for the control panel but he presses the button for the penthouse. Annoyance surges, burning through the haze of despair.

“What are you doing?” I say as the elevator ascends.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for days,” he says. “This might be my last chance.”

Before I can lunge for the control panel, the doors slide open, revealing the penthouse. The familiar scent of old leather and aged whiskey hits me with a hit of nostalgia. I stare at Dad’s desk, which backs onto a floor-to-ceiling view of the city.

Julian grabs my arm and yanks me out of the elevator. I try to pull free, but his grip tightens, leaving me no choice but to follow.

The doors close behind us, and the elevator descends, along with the lurch in my stomach, leaving me trapped with no way out.

“Let go!” I shout, the drop in my gut twisting into panic.

He releases my arm and turns to face me with an earnestness in his gaze that makes my skin crawl. “Your dad was funneling money out of the firm.”

My jaw drops. “He was?”

He nods. “He squirreled away Fifty, maybe a hundred million.”

I stare up at him, not knowing what the hell to think. As if reading my mind, Julian adds, “Sometimes when we worked late up here, I saw the transactions.”

“But how?” I ask, my voice breathy with shock.

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