Page 136 of Stalking Ginevra

“They have bigger things to worry about than a penniless cousin with a grudge.”

“What do you mean?”

I tell Roman everything, from Cesare’s frantic phone call to what we found last night at the Marina. My men fished Matty Galliano from the water after my brother finished harpooning him to death. The old bastard’s corpse is now at the crematorium, where Elania will preserve it to serve as bait for Tommy... that’s if he survived the helicopter crash.

“Fuck,” Roman mutters, shaking his head with disbelief.

I lean back, exhaling away the weight of our conversation. “What do we do about Cesare?”

Roman’s gaze sharpens. “How does he even know the Gallianos were telling the truth about his parentage?”

“He seemed pretty convinced last night, and it explains the murders.”

Roman blinks. “What?”

I recap how Leroi murdered Matty Galliano’s offspring, who had stayed the night during the Capello massacre, which had made Matty Galliano desperate for a new heir. “When Cesare didn’t defect, Matty tried to create a wedge between us with the murders.”

Roman slumps back, his eyes squeezing shut. “But Matty?” His voice tightens, disbelief coloring every word. “How the hell, when Mom married Tommy?”

“No idea,” I say with a sigh.

“Where is he, now?”

“Sleeping it off with the assassin and his new little sister.”

Roman cocks his head, glaring at me for an explanation, but I shrug. There wasn’t enough time last night to demand answers when we had to deploy two search parties. One for Roman, who we thought might be heavily guarded or dead, and the second for Cesare.

I wanted to ask my little brother last night when he boarded with his girls, but my concentration went to shit when I discovered Ginevra had gone home. All I cared about was intercepting her before she skipped town. After leaving Reaper in charge of the clean up, I returned to the marina via jet ski.

“When did Cesare find out?”

“We’ll have to ask him when he comes.”

Roman rubs his temples, the weight of the revelation sinking through all that whiskey. “So... what the hell does that mean for us?”

“He’s still Mom’s son,” I say.

Nodding, my big brother releases a low breath, probably still reeling from the news. Neither of us speaks for a while, the silence growing heavier with every second.

“What’s the situation with Tommy Galliano?” Roman finally asks.

I knock back my whiskey and grimace. “After Rosalind shot down his helicopter, we scoured the waters but found no bodies.”

Roman lets out a harsh breath, shaking his head as if trying to clear the fog. “And if he’s alive?”

“If Tommy survived, we’ll deal with him and the rest of those Galliano bastards.”

A knock on the door cuts through the tension. Gil pokes his head through. “Cesare’s coming down.”

I sit up. Maybe our little brother can shed light on why Mom left. It might give me an insight into the mystery that is Ginevra.

SIXTY-TWO

GINEVRA

I gaze at the bubbling fondue pot, my vision blurring.

The rich scent of melted cheese fills my nostrils, making me queasy. Steam rises off the surface, intensifying the nausea. I dip my crouton into the mix, forcing myself to take another bite, but it might as well be a hot brick. With trembling fingers, I lower the fork.

---