Page 21 of Stalking Ginevra

“Your father left us with enough debt to bankrupt a small country.” She places one between her lips, lighting the end before taking a deep drag that makes the tip smolder. She offers me another, but I shake my head.

“We’re screwed if we don’t come up with ten million dollars.” She blows out a long stream of smoke. “A loan shark tracked me down to the hotel with contracts your father signed. He spent money like a fire hydrant to keep up the appearance of a high-powered lawyer.”

“Did you sign anything?”

“Loan sharks don’t give a damn. I’m his widow, therefore I inherited his debt.”

My throat thickens, and the knots in my stomach return, twisting so tightly that I have to stifle a groan. Having a stalker is a picnic compared to these sharks.

“Can we sell the house?” I ask.

“Have you ever noticed that no-one moves into this part of Victoria Gardens?” She doesn’t wait for me to reply. “Over the past few years, the land has become riddled with subsidence. Real estate prices here have crashed and no one is stupid enough to buy a money pit.”

I gulp. “So, what are you doing with Bossanova?”

She meets my gaze, looking so sober that I pull away, wondering what the hell happened to my alcoholic mom. “Your father told me how Valentino operates. The life insurance policy he places on his wives are joint, meaning if one spouse dies, the other inherits a fortune. I plan on killing him before he makes his move.”

“Mom—”

“Don’t talk me out of it.” She places her fingers on my lips. “Valentino knows about my money problems, and he’s prepared to pay off the sharks. We’ll move into his penthouse overlooking the park, then he’ll die of an unfortunate overdose.”

“This is crazy.”

“But necessary.”

“Do you even have a drinking problem?”

“Not really.” She raises a shoulder.

“What does that mean?”

Mom takes a long drag of her joint, holds the smoke in her lungs for several seconds before blowing it out in a long stream. “In this world, it’s deadly for a woman to show her weaknesses because they’ll be exploited. It’s better to fabricate one you can control. Something that keeps people at a distance.”

“So all those AA meetings, detox resorts, and sobriety retreats?”

“Were an excuse to get away from your father.”

My heart plummets to my stomach and sinks in the acidic waters of betrayal. Tiny chunks break off, eroding piece by agonizing piece. “But I spent years worrying about you.”

She turns to me, her eyes softening. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you’re the world’s worst secret-keeper. When you were little, you used to tell Benito Montesano everything, and Benito would tell his father.“

“What are you saying?”

The corner of her lips lifts into a crooked smile. “You’re too pure-hearted for this world. Just like your mother.”

My heart skips several beats. Mom once said something about not being my biological mother when she was drunk, but she claimed not to remember about it when she was sober. When I asked Dad, he told me to forget about it, mumbling something about alcoholic dissociation. I let it slide, since our combination of hair and eye color is so unique, we have to be related.

“So, it’s true?”

She brushes a lock of hair off my face. “Your father ordered me never to reveal the truth. My cousin, Jennifer, was the woman who carried you, not me.”

My lips move, but I can’t form words. Mom gazes into my eyes, with a look of guilt and compassion that makes my insides crumble.

“Then how did I end up with you?” I whisper.

“She was young, impressionable and in love with your father, who wouldn’t leave his current wife. When she got pregnant, he ghosted her, and she moved into our family home. Something changed the moment she gave birth. She couldn’t connect with you, and ended up leaving you in our care.”

Mom takes another drag, her expression darkening. “She needed the kind of love she couldn’t get from a baby. Anotherolder man swept her off her feet and married her in a whirlwind romance.”

---