Page 86 of Stalking Ginevra

“Everyone thought he was helping the mafia for free, but he was getting paid off the books.”

His words seep into my mind, stealing my breath. It makes a twisted sort of sense, considering there wasn’t enough cash for the firm to cover payroll. But those amounts are ridiculous.

“Are you sure about this? How did no one else see those transactions?”

“Your dad never let anyone come up here but me and Martina.” He flicks his head toward Dad’s desk. “And let’s just say they left me alone a few times to give me the chance to snoop.”

Unease twists in my gut. Dad brought Martina up here for sex? The mental image threatens to derail my thoughts, but I shove it aside. There are bigger problems now, with our lives hanging in the balance. The missing millions could pay off the loan sharks, move Mom out of Victoria Gardens, and keep her away from lowlifes.

“Does Terranova know?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I wanted to run it by you first.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Julian’s gaze hardens. “Every day, I tried to get your attention, but you were too stuck up to even notice.”

The bitterness in his words stings because they’re true. I treated Julian like he was the biggest nuisance since the mosquito. Still, a part of me wonders why he went to such lengths to tell me in person when he could have written a note. What does he stand to gain now by telling me this?

Folding my arms, I look him full in the face. “Maybe I was. But this money could help us all. So, what can you tell me about these accounts?”

He cocks his head, studying me with narrowed eyes. The tension between us thickens, making me shift on my feet. There’s a reason why I avoid Julian. The way he looks at me is disconcerting. It's the kind of desperate longing that makes my skin itch, as if he's waiting for me to finally recognize we were always meant to be together.

“Don’t think I’m going to hand it over for free,” he finally says, his voice a low growl.

My stomach dips at the implication. The hopeful part of me assumes he wants a cut of the money. Maybe a twenty-five percent finder's fee that I'll have to negotiate down to ten. But the way his breath quickens, while those gray eyes devour mine, makes my flesh want to crawl off my bones.

“What do you want?” I ask, forcing my voice to stay even.

He pauses, his gaze sharpening.

“A relationship.”

The room feels smaller, the air thicker, making my skin break out in a cold sweat. I step back, my breath shallowing, my head shaking from side to side.

“Is this blackmail?” I whisper.

Julian advances, his gaze darkening. “You know, I used to see you as flawless. Thought you were untouchable, my dream girl.”

He looms over me, his shoulders broadening, like a polar bear about to strike. My pulse accelerates, and every fine hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

“But after what you did with that client in a filthy strip club, you can get on your knees and earn that information.”

The words slam into my chest, freezing me on the spot. I recall every reason I kept Julian at arm’s length. The way he always pushed my boundaries with his words or his presence, the way his eyes always found me across the office. I never bought into that nice-guy act, and I was right to trust my instincts.

Heart pounding, I force my legs to move, turn on my heel and stride back to the elevator. I jab the button, but nothing happens. No light, no flicker. Just silence.

His low, mocking chuckle sends a shiver down my spine. “It won’t come.”

My shoulders rise to my ears. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve overridden the lock,” he says, sounding gleeful. “You’re not leaving until I’m satisfied.”

The horror of the situation tightens around my neck like a noose. I don’t turn around. I couldn’t stand to look at his smug face. “How did you—this was my dad’s apartment. You can’t?—“

“Do you know how many times your dad and I worked late here?” he taunts, drawing closer. “How many times Martina was under the table, sucking him off while we talked business?”

My stomach churns at the image, my throat thickening with bile. I don’t want to believe what I’m hearing, but after Martina’s confession, I can’t dismiss it as a lie.

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