Page 104 of Stalking Ginevra

His lips tighten. “Over counterfeit chips?”

“Over the conspiracy I’m yet to uncover,” I say.

Bellavista breathes hard through flared nostrils. An outsider looking into this situation would call me unreasonable. After all, the man shot his son over the fraud and covered our losses.

But giving people the benefit of the doubt is what led to Dad dying, and our mother defecting to the Galliano family only to get killed. Everything started with Ginevra breaking our engagement and taking up with Samson Capello.

Dad brushed it off as just a young woman not wanting to marry a simp. I knew it was a symptom of something insidious. Ginevra needed to pull away before her father and Capello ruined our family.

“There’s no conspiracy,” Bellavista says from between clenched teeth.

“Why would I believe the word of a man who continued doing business with the bastards who stole my father’s casino?”

His eyes flicker with regret. The neutrality that kept him wealthy while we were down has turned around and bitten him on the ass. After a moment of tension, he nods, the motion stiff. “I’ll investigate it.”

“Good.” I stand and gesture to my men.

They move in, bundling the old man back into the armored truck. As its engine roars to life and pulls away, the phone in my pocket vibrates. I pull it out and see Reaper’s name flashing on the screen.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“What do you know about a massive crater on the other side of town?” Reaper asks.

Brow furrowing, I gaze out at the disappearing tail lights. “What crater?”

“One of our surveillance units tracked a truck leaving the scene of a massive explosion. The damn thing backed straight into the Montesano armory.”

“When?” I snap.

“Fifteen minutes ago.”

My grip tightens on the phone. “Was anyone hurt?”

“No one who matters. The truck reached a destination on the edge of town, then reversed out of it before getting swallowed into an expanding crater. Then it arrived safely into Montesano territory.”

I take a step toward the elevator, deciding to call Roman before heading upstairs to check on Ginevra. Vitale bursts through the doors, his face twisted with urgency.

“Boss,” he says, barely catching his breath. “Someone’s rigged the slot machines.”

My gaze sharpens, even though my mind still lingers on Roman and the crater. “What do you mean?”

“Payouts have been boosted. A woman just won half a million. She looks almost identical to someone who won six months ago.”

I grind my teeth, my pulse quickening as the bulletproof undershirt grates against my skin, making me want to scratch. This morning has already been too full of surprises, and thethought of another scam running under my nose sets my nerves on edge.

Frustration builds under my skin like a pressure cooker ready to explode, but I blow out a long breath. “Where is she now?”

Vitale points upstairs, the direction I’d planned to go anyway. “In one of the VIP lounges enjoying complimentary champagne, but it won’t be long before she bolts.”

“Keep her there. I’ll deal with the woman myself.”

Problems pile up on my chest like lead weights—Ginevra, Roman, the crater, the scams—the pressure's reaching a breaking point. I need to seize control before every fucker who doubted my right to the casino laughs in my face.

FORTY-SEVEN

GINEVRA

I move from one side of the suite to the other, pulling open empty drawers. Harsh sunlight slices through the wall of windows, reflecting off the polished furniture.

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