Page 14 of SINS & Lies

I suck in a breath. “And exactly how do you want me back?”

“The feud between us is senseless.” His laugh borders on condescending. “If we don’t work together, the fate of your family will only get worse.”

Another threat. Shocker. “What do you propose?” I grate out, trying to sound somewhat intrigued.

“Make me CEO of D’Angelo Holdings, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Anything I want...”God, it would almost be worth it because I really want to throat punch the fucker. I let that vision swim around my head for a minute before I reply.

The problem is I know what he wants, and being CEO of D’Angelo Holdings is just the tip of the iceberg.

The real issue lies in his insatiable greed, and I don’t mean money. Fuck, anyone can have money. Money is the falsest of false idols, and it took Uncle Andre half a lifetime to realize that.

What he really wants—and what’s been out of reach for him for fifty long years—is power.

Power is an aphrodisiac of epic proportions. A drug of unparalleled potency—the ultimate high. And the more I possess, the more he’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands before he gains an iota of it.

When I say nothing, he goes on. “I’ve always admired the view of the Chicago River from Antonio’s office. Or should I say, your office now?” His sneer twists into a snarl as he speaks. “Just one of the many perks of your father’s disappearance.” Leaning closer, he nods with a smirk. “Spectacular views.”

My blood simmers beneath the surface, and it takes a long, meditative breath to lull it back. I remind myself that revenge is like a fine, aged whiskey—the flavor only deepens with time.

And when the moment for retribution finally comes, the taste of my vengeance will be unparalleled, rich, and lingering.

I let a grin play on my lips. “I could make you CEO,” I suggest, stroking my chin as if giving it serious thought. As if I would even consider handing over the reins to my father’s empire—his legacy. “Or...”

“Or?” he asks, interested.

“Or I could just lead you to the panoramic balcony of my office and send you plummeting a thousand feet to the pavement below,” I suggest casually, relishing the shock that flickers across his face. “Spectacular views.”

With a furious flick of his fingers, he snaps. The echo of footsteps begin from down the corridor.

Given my arrangements with the church, I half-expect Father Malone to round the corner. As a devout and trusted agent of God, he’s become the quintessential consigliere to both camps—a role no one else can claim.

And, considering Uncle Andre’s ticket to hell was bought and stamped ages ago, it’s odd that his donations to the church still rival mine. As if he can buy his way out of eternal damnation and into the pearly gates.

I’m not easily fooled or insanely delusional. Sins don’t exactly pile up on their own, and I don’t pour millions into this church for absolution.

For starters, my sins are too dark, too damning. They’ve earned me a place in hell that’s probably ten times hotter than Uncle Andre’s, and I’ve earned every scorching degree.

They tilt the balance in favor of every mother, child, and Trinity out there. A fighting chance to continue the goodness my father endeavored to leave behind.

And a colossal fuck you to my uncle.

The footsteps draw near, and I check my watch. Right on time.

But it isn’t Father Malone’s measured steps that come into view.

It’s Rocco’s.

CHAPTER 6

Enzo

Rocco’s growl cuts through the air. “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”

His slicked-back hair, oozing with grease, only amplifies the roundness of his face. And that defiantly unruly unibrow adds to the effect, sharply accenting the scowl etched across his face.

As my gaze settles on his thickly bandaged hand, a warm sense of satisfaction washes over me. A smile, impossible to suppress, tugs at the corners of my lips.

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