Stalking Ginevra (Morally Black Book 4)

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.”

We take the elevator down to the basement. At my side, Reaper checks his rifle. We’ve trained for this—every move, every shot. Beneath the parking garage lies a lower level, connecting the apartment building directly to our target. Our great-grandfather built hidden passageways during Prohibition when it was the Salerno Casino. His son made sure to connect them during the construction of these condos, continuing the tradition.

Contrary to the movies, the leadership team isn’t always located in the basement. The managers we’re after—Esposito, De Luca, Napolitano, and Delucci—have their offices upstairs, giving them a clear view and easy access to the gaming floors.

They won’t leave the casino until they see flames. I hope to resolve that by the end of the night.

We continue in silence through the dim corridor, the distant rumble of fountains above barely masking our footsteps. If we had all the Montesano men at our disposal, I would have managed the hostile takeover from the penthouse. But our ongoing issues with the assassins have turned that plan to shit. With our forces stretched thin, we have to rely on precision, strategy, and the boys of Mortis House.

The hallway widens as we approach a steel door with a glowing keypad. Reaper enters the code, and it slides open with a soft hiss.

We grab our rifles from the lockers hidden in the walls. The boys I sent to watch over the Di Marco Law Group are already armed, waiting at the security hub—a setup of monitors patched into the casino’s system. The screens flicker with live feeds showing each part of the building: lobbies, gaming floors, emergency exits—every possible escape route under surveillance.

Most patrons and staff have evacuated to the fire assembly points, leaving behind only the die-hards and security forces—those too stubborn to abandon their posts.

Before I can issue the next order, an alert flashes on the central monitor: security forces are moving, not toward the fire exits but deeper into the casino.

“Benito,” says a voice through the Bluetooth. “We’ve got a situation. Looks like the security teams got tipped off about the plan. They’re not evacuating. They’re preparing for a fight.”noveldrama

“Don’t tell me we have a mole,” Reaper snarls.

I grind my teeth. Every organization has its betrayers, especially the one Dad ran when he was alive. Capello was his most loyal enforcer until he poured poison into the men’s ears and convinced a large proportion of them to defect.

This is why I wanted to recruit them young. Train them in discipline, loyalty, and ruthlessness, so they were too committed to their brothers-in-arms and accustomed to our ways to be anything but loyal.

“We’ll soon find out,” I growl. “Rimaldo, Capri. You’re with us.”

The pair snap to attention, grabbing their rifles from the racks. We move toward the service passages and enter the casino through an old security door, making our way up through narrow, dimly lit corridors that still carry the scent of cleaning chemicals.

Tension thickens as we approach the doors. The familiar scent of the casino hangs in the air—stale smoke, spilled spirits, and sin. We burst through, tossing smoke bombs onto the main floor.

Thick, gray plumes swallow the flashing lights and chaos. Alarms blare, lights flicker, and the distant crack of gunfire echoes from deeper in the casino.

We storm through the smoke-filled room and open fire on the security forces in our way. The main gaming floor is a battlefield of overturned tables, shattered glass, and fallen bodies. I move through it with Rimaldo and Capri, cutting down anyone in our path.

“Benito,” says another voice in the Bluetooth headset. “We’ve captured the management team.”

Relief floods my system, but that doesn’t mean we won’t stop until every last one of these bastards is in chains.

Reaper returns, hauling an injured guard by the collar. Streams of blood trail from his shattered leg, and his face contorts with agony. Reaper slams him against the wall, making his head hit the brick with a satisfying thud.

“Who warned you?” Reaper growls.

The guard trembles, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. “Giovanni Romano,” he chokes out. “He sent a text… warned us about the attack.”

I turn to Reaper. “Send some boys to Romano’s house. Find out who the hell leaked the raid.”

“Consider it done,” Reaper replies.

Another voice fills the Bluetooth. “Boss, we’ve got a problem. The woman at Newtown Crematorium is refusing to allow any of our men inside without full payment upfront.”

“Fuck,” I hiss through gritted teeth.

Several minutes later, the casino is locked down. No one gets in or out. Reinforcements arrive, securing the perimeter while I leave Reaper in charge of finishing the raid. I should be inside, overseeing the final sweep, but instead, I’m in the front seat of a bulletproof truck with a briefcase full of cash, heading to the crematorium.

I can’t believe Elania Salentino would hold up such an important operation over money. That’s why I wanted to deal with Aria—she’s the more reasonable twin. While Aria will punch a man in the face for disrespect, Elania once took a hatchet to a man’s balls without warning.

Newtown Crematorium is a simple brick building that backs onto the Parisii Cemetery flower gardens. Its architecture is more like a modernist mausoleum than a place for the dead, with tall chimneys rising to the sky.

The parking lot is filled with trucks. My Mortis House boys stand scattered around the lot in tense clusters, their hands hovering near their weapons. They’ve formed a loose perimeter around the building, facing down the crematorium’s guards at the entrances. The air is thick with anticipation, every man here knowing that this standoff could erupt into violence.

I step out of the truck with the briefcase, cutting through the crowd of men. The Mortis House boys part to let me through, their gazes fixed forward, not daring to make eye contact. It’s not their fault my cousin won’t let them access the crematorium, but they’ve been trained to resent failure.

As I approach the entrance, the crematorium’s doors swing open. Elania steps out, dressed like a gothic queen in something far too tight and low-cut for a tense standoff.

Her gaze drops to the case. “Is it all there?”

“Count it.” I thrust it into her arms, making her stagger under the weight.

The door behind her opens, and she disappears. I grind my teeth, wanting to wring her scrawny neck. A side door opens. Aria steps out dressed in the blue overalls of the crematorium’s head cremator, Marco. His name is stitched in neat letters over her chest, but her scowl is pure Aria.

“Come on in, guys,” she says with a grimace.

Her lackeys swing open both doors, and Aria steps aside, prompting my boys to disperse. They return to their trucks, unloading them with dozens of familiar faces. Men and women, once loyal to Dad, who helped Capello steal his empire.

I walk around to the side, where my cousin offers me an apologetic smile. “Sorry about Elania. That was strictly business.”

My brows rise. “Does she know you’re letting us in?”

“She ain’t the boss. We own this place fifty-fifty. If it were up to me, I’d burn those motherfuckers for free.”

I’m about to answer when my phone rings. “It’s Rimaldo,” says a voice on the other end of the line. “We’ve found the leak. Giovanni Romano’s cousin told him to call in sick tonight because something big would go down at the casino.”

“His name?” I ask.

“Leo Salvatore.”

Shit.

That’s one of Roman’s men. Time to drag big brother out from between Capello’s daughter’s legs.