Stalking Ginevra (Morally Black Book 4)

I would have stayed all day watching Ginevra sleep, but someone needs to take care of the family business. Instead, I observe her from the app on my phone. She’s as still as death, which is understandable, considering she’s under the influence of the sedative-infused patch I placed on her skin.

It was a necessary precaution to stop her from awakening when Reaper sent his best tech geek to install the cameras. They’re dotted about in her bedroom, bathroom, closet, and car. Once she and her mother leave the house, we can complete the rest of the interior.

Music pumps in through the closed door, ruining my concentration. The downside to having the bulk of our assets still in the hands of the Capello family is running an empire from the back of our nightclub.

A knock on the door pulls me out of my musings. “Enter.”

Nick Terranova strolls in, clad in a tired black suit that has seen better days. There are more streaks of gray in his beard, and he’s lost more of his hairline each progressive year since losing his license to practice law.

He’s a second cousin, once removed, and another casualty of our enemies. While Frederic Capello was scheming with Ginevra’s father to swindle Dad of his most valuable assets, Ginevra’s father was also ousting Nick from their law firm.

“Benito.”

Nick slopes into the office, his movements etched with exhaustion. While he’s unable to practice law, I’ve got him working around the clock, tracing the family’s stolen assets.

I wait for him to sit before asking, “How are things going with your appeal to the Supreme Court?”

“The last petition for reconsideration was denied,” he replies with a sigh. “Maybe things will be different now that Di Marco is dead.”

I send Reaper a text, summoning him to the office. “It’s time for you to claim back your father’s firm.”

His brows pinch. “How?”

“As the Practice Manager. You’ll run HR, admin, finances, client relations, marketing, compliance, and risk management.”

The smile Nick gives me is incredulous. “Practice Manager?”

“Did Di Marco ever pay for your share of the firm?”

“No.”

“Then you’re owed at least a job.”

Nick leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “You’re telling me I just walk in and take over?”

“You walk in with a small army of my interns and take over.”

A knock sounds on the door, and Reaper enters with four young men from Mortis House. Nick rises off his seat, facing the newcomers, his posture stiffening.

“Meet Rimaldo, Bianchi, Marino, and Capri,” I say. “All four of them are students at Alderney State University, majoring in law. They’re armed, trained, and loyal to the firm. March in with them today, and put yourselves on the payroll.”

Nick gazes at the quartet, his features slack with astonishment. “You’re serious?”

I lean back in my seat. “The Montesano family is about to reclaim its assets. Who better to serve our interests than the Terranova Law Group?”

Breath quickening, he turns to me with a smile, already looking ten years younger. “This is brilliant,” he says, his words choked with gratitude. “I can’t thank you enough.”

I nod. “This is your family’s legacy. It’s about time you took it back.”

As he turns to the interns, giving them each a firm handshake and a look of determination I haven’t seen in him for years, I rise from my seat and gesture for us to move the discussion to the bank of sofas on the other side of the room.

Reaper, Nick, and the interns follow me in silence. The boys of Mortis House are sons, nephews, and grandsons of our most loyal employees, trained from the age of eighteen to take on leadership positions within the state of New Alderney.

Dad wanted his sons to have an education before joining the family business. Roman did an MBA, I went to law school, and Cesare studied medicine. After he died and Roman was framed for murder, I knew we needed to secure the future of our family.

Many of our men defected to Capello, leaving us vulnerable. To maintain the loyalty of those who remained, I educated their sons. With Roman’s approval, I used my personal funds to establish Mortis House and set up scholarships based on academic merit. Now, any of our employees can have their children groomed and educated to be influential members of society. In return, they will serve our family.

Once we’re settled on the sofas, I turn to the quartet of college students. “Our objective, gentlemen, is to ensure Mr. Terranova’s smooth transition to power within the firm. Take charge of communications, payroll, and client relations. Identify and remove all employees loyal to the Capello and Di Marco families.”

They nod.

Bianchi clasps his hands. “What level of force is permissible, sir?”

I meet his gaze. “Diplomacy first, followed by polite levels of escalation. I don’t expect a group of attorneys to offer too much resistance, but if you find yourself cornered, use any level of force to protect yourselves and Mr. Terranova.”

When there are no more questions, I flip open a laptop, bringing up Ginevra’s picture. “This woman is off-limits. Keep a discreet eye on her.”

“Who is she?” asks Capri.

“Ginevra Di Marco,” Nick says through clenched teeth. “Daughter of the man who got me disbarred and stole my law firm.”

“Alienate her, exclude her from important meetings, sabotage her work, but if anyone touches her, they answer to me,” I snarl. “Understood?”

A chorus of affirmatives echo around the low table.

“Dismissed.” I close the laptop.

The interns stand, each man straightening his suit jacket with a quick pull at the lapels, before turning in unison to the exit. Grinning, Nick rises and follows them out.

He pauses at the door, shoots me a jaunty wave, and says, “Thanks again, Benito. I’ll be in touch soon with the contracts.”

By contracts, he means our strategy to extract Dad’s assets from Capello’s last surviving heir, Emberly Kay. Roman is holding the old man’s illegitimate daughter captive and fucking her into submission.

Removing my glasses, I pinch the bridge of my nose, hoping my big brother knows what the hell he’s doing. He’s only four days out of Death Row and the first woman he sets his sights on is the daughter of our enemy.

“Problems?” Reaper asks.

I turn to my former law professor, Remus Cortese. “Just family bullshit. How’s your nephew and sister?”

“Still under observation at the clinic.” Gaze softening, he reaches across the sofa and clasps my shoulder. “Thank you for finding them.”

Suppressing the urge to squirm, I shift on my seat. “It should never have taken so long.”

Five years. Doctor Isabella Cortese and her son, Christian, were missing for half a decade because my brothers were hooked on a TV show. Cesare got the bright idea to set up a meth lab and even identified the perfect cook. Then he convinced Roman to charm a prestigious college professor into refining the formula and running the operation.

The laboratory was extremely lucrative until Roman went to prison and Cesare turned into an addict, leaving Capello to steal the equipment along with all the cooks.

Reaper came to me years ago, frantic about his missing family members. I agreed to help in exchange for him taking charge of Mortis House.

He shakes his head. “I’m just glad they’re back.”

I nod. “Everyone who ever fucked with us will pay. That’s a promise.”

His features harden. “In blood.”

Everyone, including Ginevra Di Marco. Except, I want her tears.

“You didn’t just summon me here to introduce the boys to their intern supervisor. What’s up?” Reaper asks.

“Has the team completed their surveillance of the casino targets?”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a thumb drive. “We have car registrations, timetables, addresses, locations of their lovers, the works. Say the word. We’re ready to move.”

“Stand by. We strike the moment Nick confirms transfer of the casino ownership to the family.” I take the drive and plug it into the laptop.

“When do you want to finish your surveillance project on the Di Marco girl?” he asks.

“When she finally makes it to the office.”noveldrama

“Doesn’t she live with her mother?”

“I’ll time your man’s arrival with mine.”

He smirks. “What are you planning?”

“Let’s just say that Losanna Di Marco is about to discover her late husband died with so much debt, she’ll have to sell her home to cover the installments.”

“So, they’ll be destitute?”

I meet Reaper’s sharp eyes. He was our Constitutional Law professor and observed my devotion to Ginevra first hand. When she broke our engagement, it didn’t just break my heart. I dropped out of law school entirely.

“The key to taking control of Ginevra is through her mother,” I say. “If she’s in peril, Ginevra would do anything to save her, including selling her soul.”

And with enough pressure, I’ll have Ginevra on her knees, exactly where she belongs.