Stalking Ginevra (Morally Black Book 4)

I pull up to The Meat Show and cut the engine. Buildings loom ahead, their neon signs flickering in the overcast daylight. Thick clouds hang low, muting the sun and draping the area in a somber gray. The air is heavy, thick with the stench of rot and grease, clinging to my clothes as I step out onto the cracked pavement.

The street is unnaturally still. No cars, no people—just the distant hum of traffic. I glance around, my skin prickling with unease. The Meat Show squats at the edge of a deserted block, its windows dark with walls streaked with grime.

If my job wasn’t dependent on impressing Mr. Brisket, I would turn back and arrange to meet him in the office.

Tightening my grip on my bag, I head for the entrance. The door is old, covered in peeling paint, with a tarnished handle. I hesitate, wondering if Terranova has sent me to the right place, but then press the doorbell anyway.

The buzz is loud, cutting through the silence like a blade.

I wait with my ear close to the wood surface, straining to hear any sign of life behind those dark windows. But there’s nothing.

Frustration simmers beneath my unease. I step back, glance up at The Meat Show’s blinking sign, just to make sure I’m in the right place.

When I press the bell again, harder this time, nobody answers.

My pulse quickens, a dull throb that echoes in my chest. Something isn’t right. I should return to the car. But what if this is a set up? Terranova is looking for any excuse to put me out on the street.

I pull out my phone and dial the office. It rings twice before Pamela’s voice cuts through. “What now, Ginny?”

I swallow down a surge of bitterness, refusing to let her hear how much she’s gotten under my skin. “Can I speak to Mr. Terranova? He sent me out to meet a client but no one’s answering. ”

“After what you did today, you should be the last person making demands,” she snaps. “Do you have any idea how humiliating that was for me? Getting insulted like that in front of the entire office?”

My patience frays, each word grating against my nerves. “I don’t have time for this. I’m in the middle of nowhere. Get him on the line. Now.”

She pauses, and I can almost hear the smirk in the quickening of her breath. “Mr. Terranova is in a meeting and can’t be disturbed.”

The line goes dead.

Fuck that bitch. I shove the phone back into my bag, turn back to the doorbell and press it again. The buzz is louder, more urgent, but the response is the same—nothing.

The unease that’s been simmering now starts to boil. I pull out my phone again, searching online for a contact number. The internet connection in this abandoned district is slower than shit, and my stomach tightens with stress.

Just as the number pops up on screen, a shadow shifts at the edge of my vision. I barely have time to react before an arm locks around my waist, yanking me off balance.

My phone slips from my grasp, hitting the pavement with a sharp crack as I’m pulled through the door that slams shut behind us.

“Hey!” I twist in my attacker’s grip, but his hold is like iron.

He pins me against rough brick, grinding his larger body into mine. “Miss me, little Ginny?”

His voice is low, calm, sending a shiver down my spine. Panic claws at my insides, but I force it down. I turn my head and dart my eyes around the dim room. We’re in some kind of strip club, with a darkened bar and a fire exit beside the stage.

“Let go of me,” I say from between clenched teeth.

The moment he steps back, I bolt toward the fire door, powered by a surge of adrenaline. I make half a dozen steps on the sticky floor before he wraps an arm around my waist again and yanks me back with brutal force.

The scream tears from my throat before I can stop it, raw and desperate, echoing off the walls and swallowed by the darkness.

“I have an appointment,” I say, my voice rising with panic. “With Bob Brisket.”

His dark chuckle rumbles at my back. “That’s me, and you’re mine for the rest of the day.”

My stomach plummets. “What legal advice could I possibly give a deranged stalker?”

He laughs, the sound low and menacing. Before I can wriggle free, his palm cracks down on my ass, the sting of it making me freeze. The shock of pain reverberates through my nervous system, bringing everything into sharp focus.

The abandoned strip club in the middle of nowhere. My missing phone. Him.

My heart batters against my ribs, but I refuse to show fear, even when he turns me around so we’re standing face to face. His broad frame, encased in dark tactical armor, fills the space, with the visor concealing his eyes. I can’t see an inch of skin yet I still quail under the intensity in his stare.

He steps back, giving me just enough space to breathe, but not enough to run. Since this bastard can call my boss and even pay the firm a retainer, he can also report me for walking out on a client.

I lick my dry lips, making him draw forward, seeming to track the movement.

“Mr. Brisket,” I say, keeping my voice even. “How can I help you?”

“I’ve got all sorts of problems, little Ginny. But right now, you’re the only one that matters.”

He wraps an arm around my waist again, moving us to the bar, where a bucket of champagne awaits. With a flick of his gloved hand, he pops the cork, and I force myself not to flinch.

“Celebrating something?” I ask.

“Our new association.” He fills the flutes with bubbling liquid, then hands me a glass. His gloved fingers brush mine, sending a jolt of electricity to my core. “You and me, working together.”

I take the glass but don’t bring it to my lips. “And what exactly is this work?”

“I’m a man obsessed. There’s this particular little lawyer I can’t get out of my head.”

My breath quickens. “I’m engaged.”

“Samson Capello is dead,” he growls.

I flinch. Of course, he’d know about Samson. He would have walked past my ex’s carcass when he found me in the closet. “I’m engaged to Benito Montesano, the new owner of the biggest casino in town.”

His posture stiffens, and his shoulders hunch. He stares down at me as if I just claimed to be connected to Scarface or Don Corleone. Breathing hard, he finally utters, “You’re bluffing.”

I suppress a smirk. Invoking Benito’s name is getting me out of all kinds of trouble. Straightening, I raise my chin. “He proposed to me last night. The only reason I don’t have a ring is because he’s been busy taking back his casino.”

He studies me, his gaze dropping on my empty hand before returning to my face. The silence stretches, making the air crackle with tension. My stalker was probably out last night, helping Benito. That explains why he failed to appear in my room.noveldrama

As he shifts on his feet, I force back a pang of regret. Maybe it was too heavy handed of me to hint that I could get him into trouble with his boss. I shake off that thought. Why am I sympathizing with this bastard?

“So, it’s not official yet,” he rumbles. “Until you can prove it is, you belong to me.”

He wraps his fingers around the hand holding the glass and brings it to my lips. The liquid bubbles on my tongue, washing away the taste of fear.

“Benito is a dangerous man,” I murmur. “Your boss won’t take kindly to you touching what belongs to him.”

“Let me handle Mr. Montesano,” he growls.

“Why am I here?”

“To give me a show.”

I set down the glass and look him straight in the visor. “This is completely inappropriate. I’m an attorney, not an adult entertainer.”

His arm whips out, and he grabs my throat. “I bought and paid for you, little Ginny. Now, you perform.”

Breath catching, a dangerous thrill surges through my veins, battling the fear. Anger flares at Terranova for not vetting this client and at Brisket for hiring me like I’m available for services. I pull back, resisting the urge to submit.

“No,” I whisper, more to myself than to him.

But it’s a battle I’m not sure I’ll win.