Stalking Ginevra (Morally Black Book 4)

I pound on Roman’s bedroom door, working through my frustration on the wood.

He’s late.

Again.

I didn’t expect him to join us for the casino raid, although I would have appreciated his help with handling Elania. However, I sure as hell thought he’d at least grace us with his presence after we’d done all the work.

The door creaks open. Roman steps out, fresh from a night of fucking. Bloodshot eyes, sluggish movements, and a crooked grin that speaks of zero regrets.

I keep my expression neutral, holding back a surge of envy, not wanting to begrudge him some action. Five years without a woman must be brutal. But nothing compared to my lifetime of virginity.

But that doesn’t stop me from raising concerns about Roman’s choice of bedmate. He’s getting attached to Capello’s daughter, when he should be plotting more efficient ways to make her sign over the rest of Dad’s assets.

After he brushes me off, we walk in silence through the hallways and into the waiting car. Once we’re far from prying ears, I drop the news of Leo Salvatore’s betrayal. If that asshole wanted to warn his relative to avoid the casino, he could’ve done it without exposing our plans.

Less than half an hour later, we reach the crematorium. We’ve been burning betrayers through the night, thickening the air with the scent of charred wood and something darker. I expect it’s the stench of souls being dispatched to hell.

We enter the cremation room, which is crammed full of our men, who surround a quartet of assholes I saved for Roman.

Aria stands by the control panel, dressed in a set of overalls and elbow-length gloves beneath a fire-resistant apron. Hearing our footsteps, she turns, takes off her safety goggles and grins.

Her smile widens the moment she spots Roman. “Well, look who it is,” she says, her voice bright .“The prodigal brother returns!”

Roman’s lips twitch, and the tension in his shoulders eases. “Good to see you, Aria.”

“Damn right it is,” she says, striding over to pull him into a fierce hug. “You had us all worried. But look at you, back from death row and ready to kick ass.”

“Something like that,” Roman mutters.

She pulls back, clapping him on the shoulder before turning to me, her grin still in place. “Now, let’s get down to business. We’re running these babies hotter than usual. Flames will burn longer too—no bone left when we’re done. Nothing for the cops to find, even with a microscope.”

My brows rise. Elania made it sound like they’d have to sift through the ashes with forensic tools, but she’s the more dramatic of the pair.

While Aria details the process, Roman continues into the room to address a quartet of casino managers. I tune out his speech. De Luca, Dellucci, Esposito, and Napolitano know what’s happening next. They already pissed their pants watching their underlings getting burned alive.

A knock sounds on the door. One of the Mortis House boys steps forward, his head down. “Reaper says the clothes are ready at the penthouse.”

Thanking him, I take my place beside Roman to share a few parting words. A variation on the speech I plan on giving later, when I stroll through the casino as its new boss.

After our men load the quartet into cardboard coffins and introduce them to the flames, Roman calls forward Leo Salvatore. He’s a bulky man whose hairline has receded to the midpoint of his scalp. Salvatore glances toward the cremator, his face breaking out in a sweat.

“I know what this is about, Roman,” he says, his voice wavering. “I swore my cousin to secrecy. He should never have told his buddies at the casino of your plans.”

Roman’s plans?

My lips tighten.

It’s petty to bristle that Roman’s getting all the credit when his role in clawing back Dad’s assets is the most pleasant. Seduce an attractive woman and trick her to sign on the dotted line. Cesare has to drag bodies to the basement and interrogate threats to the family, which I admit, he enjoys, but he’s still getting his hands dirty.

Roman’s just getting down and dirty and loving every moment of it.

I’m the one who hired the detectives to find the woman. I’m the one who set up Mortis House and recruited Reaper to help me nurture the boys. I’m the one who helped Leroi plan the Capello family massacre. I’m also the one who sifted through Capello’s hard drives to find the blackmail material that secured Roman’s release.

And I led the battle to take back the meth lab.

Fuck, am I really whining about not getting credit from a backstabber?

I’m snippy because I skipped a night with Ginevra.

Shit. I’m screwed.

A gunshot pulls me out of my self pity. Salvatore drops to the tiled floor, having avoided a fiery fate.

We dismiss the men, who continue toward the casino to prepare for our entrance. I text Cesare, hoping he can tear himself away from interrogating the assassins, but I’m not optimistic. My little brother is more concerned about eliminating threats to the family than reclaiming our stolen legacy.

I’m still wearing last night’s armor and Roman could use a second chance to wake up, so we head for the penthouse.

Roman gets ready in a guest room, while I stand in front of the mirror, fastening the last button on my shirt. Reaper, who caught a few hours sleep in the master suite, now leans against the wardrobe, watching me straighten my tie.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

I blow out a long breath. “We’ve been working toward this for years.”

He nods. “This will be a place where the boys can practice their skills before we unleash them to the outside world.”

The corner of my lips lift. “All I need to do now is convince those hardened casino employees to follow the lead of a man who dropped out of law school.”

Reaper pushes away from the wardrobe, closing the distance until he’s standing at my back. “Having doubts?”

“Of course, not,” I say. “But the casino was Dad’s. Everyone expected it to go to Roman.”

“He trusts you.”

I swallow. “He had no choice.”

We lock gazes for a second, leaving so much unspoken. We all had our ways of coping during the years Roman was on Death Row. Cesare lost himself in women and drugs. I had Mortis House. And Reaper.

Together, we transformed those boys from misfits to loyal soldiers, ready to kill for the cause. Now, it’s my turn to provide them and the Montesano family with a future.

He clears his throat. “Your speech should hit them with what they need to hear, then stop. Let the silence hang.”

I glance at his reflection in the mirror. He’s talking about showing them that I’m not just Roman’s brother but a force in my own right. “Any suggestions?”

“Make it clear they’re either with us or against us. No middle ground.”

Nodding, I tighten my tie, the silk sliding under my fingers. The knot settles on the base of my throat like a noose. All I ever wanted was Ginevra. If she hadn’t been so blinded by power, I’d have her instead of needing to take this bloody, convoluted path to greatness.

“And if they push back?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

Reaper’s smile is cold, a flash of teeth that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Then our boys will be ready to cut them out. The first to step out of line will be an example of what we do to dissenters.”

With a smile, I turn to meet Reaper’s gaze, mirroring his resolve.

“You look the part,” he says. “Make Mortis House proud.”

I take a deep breath, the weight of what’s to come settling on my shoulders. “I’ll deliver.”noveldrama

Nodding, he follows me out to where Roman awaits by the exit in a sharp suit, looking every bit like Dad’s heir. A tiny kernel of doubt creeps in that he’ll change his mind and take the casino for himself, but I shove down that thought. He promised it to me. Besides, he’s too distracted by that woman to wrestle me for power.

The three of us exit the elevator into the basement, where our vehicle awaits. Cool air clings to my skin, and I savor a final moment of calm before what might be a shitstorm. We’ve weeded out the worst of the betrayers, but roots have a way of resurfacing as choking vines.

Roman rides at my side, with Reaper sitting in front with Gil and the driver. The journey to the casino is mercifully short, giving me little time to succumb to nerves.

When we step out, the sun beats down with the heat of twin cremators, tempered by the fountains’ cold spray. A building crew at the entrance strips down Capello’s vulgar sign. By tonight, it will be the Casino Montesano.

Pride tightens my chest. This is ours. It’s finally back where it belongs.

Roman and I walk through the grand entrance, which is exactly as Dad designed. Marble, gold accents, the ceiling a burst of color from the glass installations.

Applause echos from staff lining the path toward a podium. I keep my gaze ahead, moving shoulder to shoulder with my brother. When we reach the stage, he gestures for me to step forward.

A hush falls across the crowd, followed by quiet muttering. They were expecting him to take control. Not me. Ignoring a burst of nerves, I place both hands on the lectern and glare at their confused faces.

“When my great-grandfather built this place,” I begin, my voice slicing through the chatter, “he had a vision. A vision of unparalleled luxury, steady employment for the community, and a legacy to pass down to his descendants. That vision was taken from us. But today, we take it back.”

Chatter breaks out, punctuated by a few gasps. If they didn’t know we executed last night’s attacks, they do now. I let the words settle, tighten the tension. I fix my gaze on each member of the management team, examining their masked features. Anyone still loyal to Capello will join him in hell.

“This casino—this empire—was built by our family. From this moment forward, it’s under new management.” My voice reverberates through the silence. “If you’re with us, you’ll be part of something unstoppable. If you’re not, then you’re in the way.”

Reaper, who’s standing at Roman’s side, offers me an encouraging nod. I square my shoulders, stand straighter. “Your loyalty, your dedication, is what will keep this place running, what will make it stronger than ever. But make no mistake—there will be no room for weakness, no tolerance for betrayal.”

The silence is absolute, every eye on me. I don’t need to spell it out. They understand.

Finally, the employees applaud, hesitant at first, then stronger. As the applause swells, I turn toward Roman, catching his eye. He smiles, letting me know I have his full approval.

I’ve finally taken control of the casino.

Now, it’s time to take control of Ginevra.