Stalking Ginevra (Morally Black Book 4)

Twelve hours have passed since I walked out on Ginevra, but she lingers in my thoughts like an open wound. Her pleading eyes, the way her fingers traced my chest, the desperation in her voice—it claws at the edges of my mind.

I shouldn’t let her seep under my skin, but it’s already too late.

The drive to the casino did nothing to shake her hold, though I focused on every bend in the road, every turn of the wheel. But now, seated in the heart of my empire, I reinforce my defenses. Ginevra will not manipulate me with her beauty, her body, or her broken tears.

I control the progression of our marriage. I control everything, including this conference room.

Teresa Carlini, the head of procurement, sits across from me, her eyes darting between the documents spread across the table. Her son, Leo, and his fiancée, Bianca, are beside her, visibly uncomfortable. They know what’s coming, though they try to hide it behind weak facades of professionalism.

I allow the silence to stretch. It gives me time to focus, to push aside thoughts of Ginevra, even if just for a few moments.

Vitale and Lorenzo stand ready with evidence of their betrayal. My forensic accountants uncovered a kickback scheme, another drain on the casino. The guilty party’s silence stretches, and I let the pressure rise, savoring their mounting terror.

But my mind drifts to Ginevra, trembling under me last night, completely undone. Blowing hot and cold worked because now I have her pleading for a connection.

Focus. There’s no room for weakness—not here, not now.

“You’ve been generous with my money, Teresa,” I say.

Shoulders tensing, her fingers tighten around the armrests. She twitches her lips but doesn’t speak. A bead of sweat trickles down from her hairline, betraying her mounting anxiety.

Locking gazes, I continue until she trembles. “Five years. Four million dollars. A steady stream of funds siphoned out of my businesses, under the guise of procurement.”

Her son is the first to flinch. He’s younger, less practiced in the art of hiding guilt. His eyes bore into my profile, darting between his mother and my men, seeming to wonder how much of their scam I’ve uncovered.

“Mr. Montesano,” Teresa begins, “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I didn’t⁠—“

I hold up a hand, making her mouth shut with a click of her teeth.

She’s just like Ginevra. Full of words and emotions and raw vulnerability, wanting to talk herself out of trouble. But I’m not the same man I was five years ago. That man had his heart trampled in the dust, his family broken into pieces. That man learned from his mistakes.

“Vitale,” I say.

He slides a stack of invoices across the table. “We’ve analyzed your procurement records. Inflated orders for premium alcohol and luxury food supplies, yet only half the goods ever arrive.”

Teresa’s breath hitches, even though the rest of her body remains still. “I’m…” She blows out a long breath. “I’m horrified that our vendors failed to deliver our orders. This has to be an oversight. Let me take care of it.”

She thinks she can talk her way out of a multi-million dollar fraud. It’s laughable.

“Four vendors under delivered large orders and you failed to notice?” I lean back, folding my arms across my chest.

Her lips move, but she fails to speak. Wise of her to remain silent. In her position, I would have left the country the moment the casino changed ownership.

Lorenzo takes over, flipping another page to show stock receipts. “Here’s a specific example. A shipment of a hundred cases of premium wine, each worth $2,000. The invoice billed you for two hundred grand. The actual delivery is only fifty cases.”

Leo pales. He’s been quiet so far, hoping to keep his head down, but his composure is slipping. Teresa clenches her jaw, her lips pressed tight.

“Let me call the vendor,” she says, her voice wavering.

“My men already had that conversation, and he admitted to the procurement fraud.”

Teresa’s eyes dart toward the door, as if she’s thinking of running. The desperation in her eyes mirrors Ginevra’s. She wanted me to stay and talk as if words might smooth over a betrayal of this magnitude.

I nod to the man guarding the exit to get the door. He swings it open, and Leonard Napoli stumbles into the conference room with a grunt. He’s a beaten, bloodied man whose toupée hangs at the crown of his head like a lid.

Napoli’s face is a mess of bruises and cuts, and he sways on his feet, panting and punch drunk. I don’t spare him a second glance, not when Teresa’s paling features are so satisfying.

“He’ll tell you himself,” I say, my eyes never leaving hers. “Go ahead.”

“Mrs. Carlini and I have been splitting the difference on the orders,” Napoli stammers, his voice thick with pain. “Half the goods delivered, full payment collected. I… I couldn’t refuse. She and her son were⁠—”

“Enough.” I raise a hand. “The circumstances are irrelevant. What I want to know is how you plan to reimburse the casino.”noveldrama

The CEO winces, clutching his chest as if one lousy interrogation is enough to give him a heart attack. “Do you take installments, Mr. Montesano?”

“No.”

He splutters. “I don’t have that kind of cash. All my assets are tied up⁠—“

“Then I’ll take your assets.” I snap my fingers.

Vitale pushes forward a contract Nick Terranova drew to transfer ownership of Napoli Food and Drink to the casino. “Sign this, and we’ll consider your debt cleared.”

He stares at the page, his lips moving as he subvocalizes the terms. The moment realization sinks through his bald head, he rears back, his eyes wide. “But my company is worth over ten million⁠—“

I pull the trigger, the shot ringing out and making everybody flinch. Blood splatters across the table, and his scream cuts the air like a blade. Napoli grabs his hand, now a mangled mess, and staggers back toward the wall. The trio of fraudsters scatter across the room like burning rats.

My gaze fixes on Napoli, who stares back, his eyes bulging with shock. Agony twists his sallow features, his breath coming in ragged bursts.

Beneath the pandemonium, the printer whirrs, churning out a fresh contract. Vitale rises off his seat, places it on a clipboard, and presses a pen into Napoli’s uninjured hand.

“Sign it,” I repeat.

With shaking fingers, he grips the pen and scrawls his name. When he’s finished, Vitale takes the clipboard with the attached contract and nods.

I flick my head again, ordering the man at the door to drag the whimpering CEO out of the room, most likely leaving a trail of blood across my marble floor. I don’t watch them go. My focus is on Teresa and her accomplices.

Her face contorts with anguish. The expression is identical to the horror on Ginevra’s pretty features when I tore through Julian’s entrails. If all women are the same, why am I so fixated on Ginevra?

Despite the corporate chaos, part of me is still in the honeymoon suite, watching my wife crumble. The memory of her begging for my touch, then pleading for me to stay lingers like it’s tattooed on my soul. I walked away because I needed control, but how much control do I have when I see Ginevra in the face of every woman?

“Mr. Montesano,” Teresa cries. “Please, don’t shoot me or my son.”

The little fiancée squawks at her mother-in-law’s willingness to make her the sacrifice. Suppressing a smile, I focus on my head of procurement. She’s trembling, her face paling, her breath shallow. Good. She’s starting to understand I won’t swallow her bullshit.

“You still owe me,” I say.

“Please, Mr. Montesano…” Leo tries to speak up, but I shut him down with a glower.

“Take her,” I say to the man at the door.

He grabs Teresa by the arms, hauling her to the exit. One of my forensic accountants will take stock of her net assets and see what they can extract. I have no doubt she’s already spent the bulk of the money she’s embezzled, but no one cheats a Montesano and lives to encourage others to do the same.

She screams, pleading for mercy. Her cries bounce off the walls, but she’s no Ginevra. Teresa’s pain only hardens my resolve. As she disappears through the door, I gesture for Leo and Sofia to take their seats.

Trembling like a pair of junkies, they return to the table and sit. Neither of them dares to speak. I’m still holding the gun.

I lock eyes with Leo and snarl, “My accountants will calculate your share of the debt. You have until tonight to get my money, or you’ll follow your mother.”

He nods, his throat bobbing with a gulp, even though he doesn’t stand a chance of gathering the funds. When he fails, Bianca will infiltrate the Bellavista household and sniff out Victor or lose her fiancé.

I stand, smooth down my jacket, and round the table, leaving the pair in the hands of my men. As I step into the marble hallway, my mind shifts to the next task.

No matter how far I walk, I can’t escape Ginevra. Her tears, her trembling, the way she pleaded beneath my touch. She seeps into my mind like smoke, filling every breath, invading every thought. I can’t shake her, can’t outrun the need she’s branded into my soul.

In business, I never lose.

But Ginevra could be my downfall.