Page 28 of Stalking Ginevra

“I’m late for an engagement.” His gaze flicks past me, indifferent.

The word hits like a slap, and my breath catches. Engagement? “I just…” My voice falters, and I swallow hard, fighting back a surge of guilt. “Something’s happened. I need your help?—”

“Set up an appointment with my assistant.”

“Benito… Please,” I whisper, but he’s already turning away, dismissing me as if our sixteen year relationship meant nothing.

Without another glance, he climbs into the limousine. The door slams shut, sealing off any hope of getting help.

I stand frozen on the curb, watching the vehicle disappear into traffic. What the hell was I thinking—that Benito would revert back into that golden retriever, eager to fulfill my everywhim? He’s moved on, probably happy with that woman. I’m just a painful chapter he wants to forget.

But what the hell am I supposed to do now?

ELEVEN

BENITO

I spent the rest of the day reveling in the way Ginevra tried to get my attention. The anguish in her pretty gray eyes replays in glorious technicolor, making my heart thrum with satisfaction.

These are the first words we’ve exchanged since she cast me aside, like the lifetime of love I poured into her meant jack shit. Because of Ginevra, I let my guard slip at Roman’s welcome-back-from-Death-Row party—an unforgivable lapse in vigilance.

Now, I’m standing on a stage with my brothers, no longer distracted. Roman just got shot, and Cesare’s gone feral, firing at the scattering guests.

The only things standing between us and death are our bullet proof undershirts. If the little assassin we left Cesare to interrogate in the basement escaped to finish the job she started, I’ll wring his neck.

But more concerningly, Roman’s captive has disappeared, taking with her our last chance to claw back Dad’s assets.

My older brother gives chase, leaving me to handle the attack on our family. To keep Cesare out of trouble, I order him to find our billion-dollar hostage while I go in search of Losanna DiMarco. She’s inebriated, vulnerable, and my key to manipulating Ginevra.

I jump down from the stage, heading toward the ballroom’s exit. Guests are still streaming through the open double doors and out into the hallway. I scan the room, checking for signs of a drunken older woman. Finding none, I push my way through the crowd.

The hallway is crammed with servers, guests, guards, and staff, all streaming toward the front doors. To stop the shooters from escaping, I’ve ordered bottlenecks and blockades at all exits. Reaper and his boys are patrolling the grounds surrounding our property with orders to shoot anyone trying to escape on sight.

As the realization sinks in that Losanna is unprotected, a cold dread tightens around my gut, propelling me through the throng. I shove my way to the front doors, not wanting to waste another second. She could be terrified, trampled, or torn apart.

The outside courtyard is a chaotic mess of darkness and noise, with guests scattered and frantically yelling at valets for their cars. The usual juniper scent fades to the background, now thick with the stench of exhaust fumes, gunpowder, and anxiety.

Amid the confusion, I spot Valentino Bossanova trying to slither his way into someone’s limousine. His white tuxedo jacket is splattered with blood, making my stomach lurch.

I rush forward and grab his arm. “Is she in there?”

He whirls around, staring at me through haunted eyes. “Who?”

“Who do you think?” I snarl.

His lips tremble. The bandaid on his broken nose quivers. “I lost her in the chaos.”

“Valentino?” A gray-haired woman pokes her head through the back door. She’s Donna Lewis, the new president of the New Alderney Cemetery Board. “Do you still need that ride?”

“Leave without him,” I snap.

Valentino pales, despite his thick coating of fake tan. I grab his shoulders, wanting to shake him until his teeth rattle.

“Where did you abandon her?” I snarl.

“We got separated when Roman was shot.”

In other words, he ditched her at the first sound of gunfire. Panic threatens to surge, but I shove it down, narrowing my focus. If Ginevra loses her mother, it will be disastrous. Not just for my plans to use her safety as leverage.