Page 1 of Deadly Sins: Greed

CHAPTER 1

Giovanni Luciana pulled the black 1930 Ford Model A Coupe into the garage, gliding it to a gentle stop behind another of his other collectible cars, a 1969 Ferrari 365GTS. His auto collection was pricy and rare, and though the Model A had been purchased for a modest amount in comparison to most of the other vehicles, it was the only one with sentimental meaning, which set it apart from the rest.

He exited the car, taking time to slide the door ever so gently to a close. Running a hand along the smooth, refinished exterior, he paused, taking a moment to appreciate what it meant to have the car back in his family’s possession.

The history of the Model A was a scandalous one, having first been commandeered away from its owner, Robert Johnson, by Giovanni’s great uncle, John Dillinger, in 1934. Dillinger and his top two lieutenants, Hommer Van Meter and John “Red” Hamilton fled from federal agents after President Roosevelt and J. Edgar Hoover ordered the capture of the infamous “Dillinger Gang.” Deadoralive. Sliding into the rich, brown interior seat, the notorious Dillinger, sensationalized for robbing twenty-four banks and four police stations, had wasted no time shattering the glass, jutting his tommy-gun out the rectangular back window, and opening fire on the onslaught of Feds following close behind. Pelted with bullets, the Model A had soldiered on, and just as he had so many times before in the past. Dillinger managed to elude police. Only this time, his victory would be short lived. A few months later as Dillinger left the Biograph Theater, over twenty agents had positioned themselves outside. Dillinger’s luck had run out. There were no avenues for escape. Shot four times, the fatal bullet entered the back of his neck, exiting beneath his right eye and killing him instantly.

At the tender age of thirty-one, Dillinger was a dead man.

He was also a mafia legend.

The Ford was eventually returned to its original owner. Upon assessing the barrage of bullet holes and blood-soaked interior, he’d decided it was of little value and shoved it away inside a garage. It was eventually sold and restored decades later by movie producers who used it on the set ofPublic Enemies. It was then put up for auction, where it found its way back into Giovanni’s possession.

Giovanni reminisced about the day it had been delivered, patting the roof with the palm of his hand like it had won the grand prize at Churchill Downs.

The sound of a door creaking open snapped him back into reality, and he turned. A young boy poked his head out, eyes wide.

“Can I go for a ride with you, Daddy?” the boy asked. “Can we go get ice cream?”

In truth, Giovanni wasn’t the boy’s biological father. The boy had been the product of a one-night stand that Giovanni’s late wife Valentina had while they were married. No one knew, of course. No one except Sloane Monroe, the only woman Giovanni had ever truly loved.

Giovanni smiled. “We’ll go for a ride, but not today, Marcelo.”

The boy sighed, staring at the ground, defeated. “Please?”

“Where’s your Aunt Daniela? She should be tucking you into bed right about now, shouldn’t she?”

“She’s asleep on the couch, but she lets me stay up late when it’s not a school night.”

Giovanni raised a brow. “Nottoolate, I hope.”

“She said since I’m six years old now I get an extra half hour on the weekend. And you promised you’d take me this weekend. So can we? Please?”

Giovanni glanced at his watch, then motioned for Marcelo to join him. “One hour, and then you’re off to bed. Understand?”

Marcelo nodded. “Can Luca come too?”

A year younger than Marcelo, Luca had a mass of long, wavy brown curls and large, charming eyes to match. He poked his head around the corner, produced a sheepish grin, and said, “Ciao, Uncle Giovanni.”

“Ciao, Luca.” Giovanni glared at Marcelo. “Why didn’t you tell me your cousin was with you tonight?”

Marcelo stared at the ground and shrugged. “Sorry, Papa.”

With two boys now in tow, Giovanni considered reneging on the deal he’d just made, but one look at Marcelo’s tenderhearted face, and he couldn’t help but crack a smile. “All right, fine. Which car would you like to go for a ride in?”

Marcelo looked around and then pointed at the Model A. “I want this one.”

Giovanni was surprised. “We can take any car you like. Why this one?”

“Because it’s your favorite.”

“It’s only a two-seater. We should take something else.”

Marcelo crossed his arms in front of him and closed his eyes. “It’s not far.”

Giovanni placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “I suppose you’re right. Just this once though. Got it?”

Marcelo nodded and the boys hopped inside. Giovanni restarted the car. “Gelato?”

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