Stalking Ginevra (Morally Black Book 4)

My people and I spent the day scouring the security feeds from both inside and outside the casino. Whoever attacked my business knew what they were doing. They knew the positioning of the cameras, the timing of the waste disposal trucks, and how to position themselves to plant both the bomb and the safe without being seen.

To say it’s an inside job would be an understatement, since Bellavista already compromised one maintenance worker. He could have dozens of them in his pocket.

I park the car at the side of the house, wanting to avoid a conversation with Roman until I can present him with Bellavista’s head. After opening the door, I step out into a gust of fragrance from the climbing roses covering the wall that mingles with the ever-present scent of juniper.

Crossing the lawn, I cast my sights on the pool house. Its glass walls reflect the last traces of the setting sun, and I wonder if Ginevra is having another nap.

Lorenzo and Vitale sit outside, playing cards on the patio table amongst remnants of their evening meal. Reaper has honed those boys to become loyal soldiers. I send Sofia a silent word of thanks for feeding them.

They stand as I approach, and I dismiss them for the evening. I wait for the pair to reach the other side of the pool before I open the patio door.

I step inside, only for Ginevra to rush at me, her kimono billowing. In three desperate steps, she throws herself into my arms, her body trembling against mine.

My muscles stiffen from the way her hands grip me like a lifeline. She’s usually composed, calculating, in control. Seeing her shaking and barely able to stand is disconcerting.

“Benito,” she whispers, her voice frail. “I’ve been so scared.”

She clutches at the fabric of my jacket, her grip tight enough to leave indentations. Every breath she takes shudders through her body, with her pulse pounding hard enough to reach through my suit. The fear radiating from my wife is so jarring that I cup her face with both hands.

“What happened?” I ask, my chest tightening.

“Roman was here,” she says through panting breaths. “He was so frightening.”

Her trembling body presses harder against mine, as though seeking refuge from the memory of my brother. I tighten my arms around her shoulders, wondering what the hell she’ll say next. Ginevra has known Roman nearly as long as she’s known me. They were never friends, but surely she knows he isn’t capable of murdering an innocent woman?

“What did he say?”

She doesn’t look up. Her head presses against my chest, as though if she holds tight enough, it will make Roman disappear.

“I’ve been on edge the whole day, thinking he would break in and force me to have sex,” she chokes out, her voice cracking.

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, filling my veins with a surge of white-hot rage. My grip on her arms tightens, the muscles in my chest coiling with tension as I tilt her chin up to lock gazes.

“Who are you talking about?” I growl.

She shudders, her breath hitching, her eyes welling with tears. “Bob Brisket,” she wails. “He’s going to track me down. He’ll find me and make me⁠—”

She sobs, clinging to me like I’m the only thing tethering her to life.

Tension drains from my muscles as understanding trickles through my skull. She’s not talking about sex with my brother.

“Brisket won’t come near you,” I murmur, rubbing her back with gentle strokes. The heat of her body against mine is comforting, and her dependence on me fills my heart with a soft ache. “I’m here now. You’re safe.”

Her fingers press harder into my chest, her breaths coming out in shallow, uneven gasps. “You don’t understand. He’s a psychopath. He tore out a man’s heart and presented it to me as a gift. He’s capable of anything.”

The fear in her voice is real. I can feel it in the way her body tenses, the way she shakes with every word. She’s reliving that moment—seeing it, feeling it all over again.

“And he’s the worst kind of pervert,” she says with a shudder.

My hand stills on her back as I force down a dark chuckle. Ginevra acts like she hated the filthy things I made her do as Brisket. I remembered how she would beg. In fact, she responded to me with a fire I hadn’t seen in the time we’ve been together.

But I can’t let her spiral further. Not now. Not when she’s finally falling into place. Not when she’s needing me in a way she never has before.

I continue to stroke her back, press a kiss on her temple, and rock her from side to side. “That bastard won’t touch you again.”

“How can you be so sure?” she asks, pulling back just for her tear-filled eyes to search mine. “Do you know him?”

The question hangs in the air, making my heart spasm. My mind races through the possibilities. If I say yes, she’ll demand more answers. If I say no, she’ll cling to this paranoia. If I say he’s dead, she’ll take advantage of her freedom and leave me in the dust.

Exhaling, I settle on a middle ground. “A couple of men disappeared last week with a suitcase of cash. I’m sure one of them was Brisket.”

Her brows knit together. “Did you catch them?”

“Working on it.” I examine her features for signs of relief or hope, but find only fear. “But right now, I have to deal with the casino being under attack.”

Her frown deepens. “What happened today?”

“There’s a man named Victor Bellavista,” I snarl. “He’s been draining money from the casino for months with counterfeit chips, rigged machines, and that’s only half of what we’ve uncovered.”

She cocks her head to the side. “Is he related to Salvatore?”

My heart skips a beat. “How do you know that name?”

She blinks, seeming surprised by my reaction. “Salvatore wanted to work with me after Dad died, but my old boss gave the account to someone else. He and his family used to come over to the house for dinner all the time. He’s practically an uncle.”

I step back, my breath catching, my pulse racing at the implication. “You know the Bellavista family?”

She nods, oblivious that she could be the key to finding the elusive Victor. “Of course. Salvatore always invited Dad to parties at his house and to all the family vacations. You remember how much Dad liked photos? He has a whole shelf of albums full of memories.”

“Where?” I growl.

“In his study. Do you want to see them?”noveldrama

My mind snaps back into focus. Pulling her into my arms, I kiss the top of her head. “Put on your shoes. We’re going to your old house.”

Ginevra has inroads with Salvatore Bellavista.

This changes everything.