Stalking Ginevra (Morally Black Book 4)

This is a nightmare.

A hell of my own making.

The marble floor feels cold against my flesh, but it’s nothing compared to the chill seeping through my bones. Brisket’s touch crawls under my skin, making my muscles tighten, as though trying to shake off the memory of ever enjoying anything about him. I clutch my knees to my chest, squeezing my eyes shut as if that will erase the memory of him forcing that organ into my hands.

I never want to see that black-hearted bastard again.

The silence in the bathroom is suffocating. I edge toward the door, straining to listen for any signs he might be lurking outside. But all I hear is the rapid thud of my heart. It pounds through my eardrums, barely drowning out his final words.

Time loses meaning. Minutes or hours, I can’t tell—every second drags out, my limbs frozen in place while his words echo in my mind. I’m still trembling, still fucked up from being the cause of a man’s brutal death. Common sense reminds me that I can’t stay here forever. What if Terranova unlocks the elevator and finds a corpse? I’ll be suspect number one.

With a shuddering breath, I uncurl my muscles, pull the door open a crack, and peer down the corridor. It’s empty, save for a few bloody footprints.

Each step down the hallway feels like dragging myself through mud. My legs grow heavy, and my lungs tighten, struggling to pull in air. I round the corner, finding Julian’s lifeless body sprawled by the elevators. The sight of his intestines spilling into a pool of congealed blood makes me heave.

I force myself to walk around the corpse, careful not to look too closely, not to let the horror seep into my bones. Hell will turn to a holiday camp before I grieve a man who tried to assault me in my own Dad’s penthouse.

My gaze lands on the dossier he tossed aside. I reach down and pick it up with trembling fingers, only to find the papers all blank. I huff a bitter laugh. The offshore accounts, the promise of hidden money—it was all bullshit he made up to steal my attention.

I turn back to his corpse, this time looking directly into the face frozen with terror. “Idiot,” I hiss, my voice thick with disgust. “You would still be alive if you’d taken a fucking hint. Not even a hundred million dollars would make me give you the time of day. Go straight to hell.”

Tossing the papers aside, I crouch beside Julian’s corpse and search his pockets. My fingers close around a small key. “What kind of man traps a woman who doesn’t want him?”

I unlock the elevator and step inside, my mind racing with a single, urgent thought: escape. The ride down feels endless, the walls closing in with the weight of Brisket’s parting words.

He thinks the man I wanted dead was Julian. With this murder, he thinks he’s bought my soul. What if he turns that deadly violence toward me? Or Mom?

The second the doors open, I rush out through the building and to my car, and check the back seat before starting the engine.

My drive home is tense, every shadow on the road twisting into the shape of Brisket and the way he tore through another human’s insides like a butcher. His words continue to resound in my mind, a constant reminder that he thinks I’m his property.

Gripping the wheel, I force myself to stay alert. To plan how I’ll protect my hide.

But I can’t do this alone. As much as my dignity protests at the thought, I might need Benito. The bitterness of his rejection claws at my chest, and my pride screams at me to leave him alone. He could help, but would he even care? He was so cold and dismissive at the boutique, having moved onto the type of woman who wouldn’t stab him in the back.

But does that matter if Brisket comes after me tonight?

I pull into my driveway, still debating whether to call Benito, when headlights flood my rearview mirror. It’s a truck pulling in from behind.

Men pour out of its doors, circling my car like predators. My stomach twists into painful knots. I already know who they are—the loan sharks.

The leader, the same bastard from before, strides toward the driver’s side door with a broad grin. Breath catching, I tighten my fingers into fists.

My body tenses, my mind races for a way out, but I’m trapped.

His eyes rake over the car, like he’s already decided I’m his. Negotiation isn’t on the table.

I keep my eyes forward, not wanting to meet his gaze. He taps on the glass, daring me to face him.

“Guess what, sweetheart? Turns out Benito Montesano isn’t engaged, so you’re not under his protection.”

A chill runs down my spine. I hoped to have resolved the situation with the loan sharks before they returned.

“Open up. We need to have a little chat.”

My heart slams against its cage. I force myself to breathe, but my chest tightens with rising panic. The doors are locked. They can say whatever the hell they want then leave.

When I don’t answer his attempts to get my attention, the leader draws back his fist and slams it into the window, shattering my hopes of survival. Flinching, I scoot to the other side, but another man is already in place, smashing his fist into the front passenger window.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit!

Fractures spread across the glass. These bastards aren’t playing around. I glance from side to side, the beginnings of a heart attack twisting every muscle in my chest.

Before I can grab the phone and call 911, the leader punches through the cracked window, sending cubes of glass flying across my lap. His hand snakes in and yanks the door open.noveldrama

The next thing I know, he’s grabbing my arm and dragging me out of the car.

A cold breeze swirls around my damp skin, its bite seeping through to my bones. Eyes fixed on his leering face, I pull my body into the car’s frame as if trying to vanish into the metal.

He looms over me, flanked by at least a dozen goons whose bulks form a wall. My nostrils fill with the mingled scents of spirits and sweat and semen, making my stomach lurch.

“Twenty-four hours, princess.” He slams my back against the side of the car, the force tearing my blouse.

Pain explodes across my spine, making me wince.

He draws forward, his breath reeking, hot against my face, the stench of cigarettes and cheap cologne making me gag. “That’s all the time you’ve got to come up with the cash.”

My pulse hammers in my throat. “I don’t have it. You know I don’t⁠—”

His hand shoots out, aiming for my throat. I twist away, but my foot slips on the gravel, sending me crashing to the ground. The sudden motion rips my skirt, exposing my thighs.

Laughter cuts through the night, sharp and cruel. My limbs lock on the floor, frozen in place, every nerve numb with shock.

“Look at her squirm!” one of them shouts, his voice thick with mirth.

The others snicker.

Their leader crouches down, his eyes boring into mine. “Fail to produce the cash and we’ll take you as payment. Right here, in this fucking driveway. And I’ll be the first to break you in.”

As he thrusts his hips, I snatch my gaze away from his rancid crotch, only to find the others making the same movement. The men close in, jeering and taunting, filling my ears with their crude laughter.

One of them yells out, “Don’t forget the MILF!”

Bile burns the back of my throat, but I choke it down. They won’t just take me—they’ll come for Mom too. I can’t let that happen. I can’t let her get dragged into this hell.

I force down the terror, the revulsion, the shame. All my options have dwindled to nothing, and my back is up against a proverbial wall. It’s time to swallow my pride and throw myself at Benito’s feet.