Page 201 of Stalking Ginevra

It takes every ounce of self control to yell at her to look at my naked body, look around this grimy basement and compare it to a honeymoon suite with room service and silk kimonos.

“And I’ll escape him eventually,” I reply. “The most important thing is saving your father from himself.”

Brows furrowing, she contemplates my proposal. I hold my breath, my gaze fixed on bruised features flickering with indecision. Finally, she looks me in the eyes.

“If I let you go, what will you tell Mr. Montesano?”

As I part my lips to speak, the door slams open, making my heart stutter. Valentino strides in, his movements jerky, probably from exerting himself while injured. Instead of the black leather from earlier, he’s clad in a fresh set of silk pajamas.

His gaze locks onto Carla, who tenses. “Breakfast,” he barks. “Now.”

Carla shrinks, her head dipping. “Yes, Dad.”

“Carla,” I whisper, my chest flaring with panic.

Ignoring me, she scuttles to the exit, not casting me a glance. My heart sinks as she disappears around her father, letting the door close behind her with a soft thud.

Valentino turns to me, his expression smug. “Your husband triggered one of my explosive traps.”

Fear punches me in the chest, but I hold my features in a mask. “My wrists hurt. I’m getting nerve damage.”

“Which stings more? Your flesh or missing out on a share of the hundred mil?” he asks with a chuckle. “And I heard you trying to corrupt Carla. Next time you interfere with another of my relationships, I’ll tear the skin off your back.”

He disappears through the door, leaving his words hanging in the air like a bitter fog.

Valentino Bossanova, Victor Bellavista, or whatever he calls himself can get fucked. I’ll find a way to break those chains—Carla’s and mine.

NINETY-ONE

BENITO

The next morning, I glare at the dining table with my head buried in my hands, trying to tune out the chatter. Sunlight streams in through the patio doors, searing my skin.

My head pounds, my chest burns, and my gut churns with anxiety. I didn't sleep a fucking wink with Ginevra's torture playing through my mind on repeat. We’ve lost track of Bellavista, but I can handle him later. All I want now is my wife.

“You can’t wire some stranger a hundred million dollars in cash,” Roman growls. “How the hell do we get it back?”

“Get him on the phone,” says Cesare. “We can track his location. Rosalind and I can take him out… Or bring him back alive for torture.”

“Right,” Rosalind adds from his side.

My head snaps up, and I glare at the dark-haired assassin dressed in black to match my little brother. “I thought you of all people would be more sympathetic to Ginevra’s cause.”

She purses her lips, her eyes sharpening. As a professional equally as trained as Leroi, she bristles at the reminder of being a hostage.

I caught glimpses of what Cesare made her endure, and even took notes. Any sane woman should drive a knife into his gut. Instead, she’s still deep in the throes of Stockholm syndrome and showing no signs of recovery.

“We have forty hours between now and the drop-off point,” she clips. “There’s no reason to spend that time not searching for your wife.”

“Rosalind has a point,” Leroi snarls as though agreeing with her is agonizing.

I whirl around, casting my cousin a glower. He only meets it with an even stare.

Roman called a family meeting to discuss last night’s disaster. I made the mistake of asking him to lend me the thirty million he stole back from his estranged wife. Naturally, he demanded a reason for such a large transfer of cash, and I had to reveal the truth.

We’re sitting in the dining room because Roman says an emergency like this calls for a family brunch. He sits at the head of the table, with the space on his right conspicuously empty. I can’t linger on how much he’s pining for his wife. Not when my own wife is in peril.

I’m sitting at his left, between him and Leroi, with Seraphine at the far end. Next to her sits Sofia, who looks ready to faint. She’s known Ginevra even longer than me, and used to pamper her like a daughter. Rosalind and Cesare take the seats next to Emberly’s empty space, with Gil sitting across from Sofia.

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