Page 49 of Stalking Ginevra

Reaper narrows his eyes. “Why aren’t you at home, enjoying time with the family?”

I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “I can’t focus on anything but tomorrow’s raid.” His brow lifts, so I add with a smirk, “And her, I suppose.”

His smirk matches mine. He knows better than to pry, but he understands why Ginevra is always on my mind. Her betrayal has been a dagger in my side for years, and I’ll make sure she pays for every moment.

We finish the meal in silence, the weight of tomorrow’s operation hanging over us like storm clouds. We’ve studied the casino for years, planning the takeover with obsessive precision. We know the management team’s routines better than our own bowel movements. Despite our meticulous preparation, anything can still go wrong.

Reaper sets aside his plate and stands. “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be long.”

I nod, watching him leave. The moment he’s gone, I pull out my phone and bring up the feed. My pulse quickens as the car pulls up outside her home. I switch to the cameras I set up around her house, sit back, and enjoy the show.

Her movements are frantic, unsteady, as she exits the vehicle and rushes up the steps. She fumbles with her keys, and drops them once before finally unlocking the door.

Inside, Ginevra moves like a nervous bird, flitting between windows to lock them. She rummages through a kitchen drawer, her hands shaking as if preparing for a storm. When she extracts several tubes, my brows pinch.

Back in the bedroom, she squeezes the contents of one tube on the window sill before pulling it shut. It’s probably superglue. Over the next several minutes, she moves around the house, sealing every window. Once they’re secured, she takes a knife from the kitchen and slides it beneath her pillow.

I lean back and smirk. She thinks she’s safe, that she’s kept the monsters at bay. But she’s wrong. I’m the one she should fear. I’ll let her sleep tonight, because tomorrow, the real nightmare begins.

TWENTY

BENITO

The next day, I stand at the penthouse window, looking out over Dad’s casino. The twelve-story, crescent-shaped building dominates the skyline, its design echoing the grandeur of the Colosseum. The lights below pulse, casting the fountains in a deep, golden glow.

Dad always called it his greatest achievement. He took a run-down hotel—a relic from our great-grandfather Paolo—and turned it into what it is today. A larger, more opulent version of our mansion on Alderney Hill, with that same timeless architecture.

This place was more than just a casino. It was his headquarters, the nerve center of our operations, and our primary hub for laundering money. Which is why it’s hard to believe his supposed heart attack happened at the Phoenix.

Sometimes, I wonder if he knew Capello had taken it from him but was too proud to tell us. If Dad wasn’t at home, he was there. This casino was his reason for living.

Now that ownership of the casino and its attached hotels have returned to the Montesano family, we can finally take back Dad’s legacy.

Reaper places a hand on my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts. He’s wearing the same body armor as the rest of the crew, but has yet to strap on his helmet. His sharp eyes reflect the tension we’ve both been holding in check.

“Where’s your brother?” he asks.

My lips tighten. That’s an excellent question. Roman was supposed to be with us tonight, taking back what was ours. He used to joke about the three Montesano brothers, strolling through the lobby with assault rifles, gunning down every treacherous bastard involved in Dad’s downfall.

Roman is out celebrating our victory with the same woman he stole it from—Capello’s daughter. I didn’t invite Cesare because he’s busy. The bulk of Dad’s men are protecting the house and Roman from assassins, so I only took a skeleton crew.

Thank the saints for Reaper and the boys of Mortis House. Their tech nerds have already set half the city into chaos with numerous bomb threats on the other side of town, giving us free reign to act.

“Don’t worry about Roman,” I mutter, my gaze fixed on the casino. “Are the boys in place?”

“Twelve teams of three stationed outside the homes of each target,” he replies. “We’re waiting for your command.”

“And the power outage?”

“Ready whenever you are.”

I nod. Seconds later, the casino’s lights flicker off, indicating that stage one of our plan is underway. By now, one of the hackers from Mortis House will have set off the fire alarms, forcing the casino staff to evacuate to their assembly points.

“Begin extraction,” I command.

Reaper confirms that all teams are on the move.

“Let’s go.”

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