Page 16 of Sin & Secrets

“Problem?”

“Lazzaro is on the list.”

Martino curses loudly at my side. “I’m gonna bury Giuliano six feet under.”

My father’s retirement had been an act of unprecedented bureaucracy for the Guild. It would have been far easier to have just killed him, as many of my father’s lieutenants had advised me to do as soon as I came of age.

But I’d wanted to make a statement, start a new chapter in the Guild’s torrential, violent history of succession. So that one day, my son wouldn’t have to kill me in order to claim his inheritance.

In the end, forcing Giuliano Moretti out had only taken five years to accomplish, and it had required a long list of demandsthat included preserving theElectrixand, apparently, Claudio fucking Lazzaro’s employment.

“There’s no way around it?” I’m aware I sound desperate. But that bastard is within arms reach, and I’ve been itching to make him pay ever since I saw those bruises on Cas’ arms.

And, if I’m being honest with myself, that’s the real reason I’m here. Statement or not, I couldn’t sleep when all I could think about were those hazel eyes begging me not to make a scene.

How could anyone even…I can’t even bring myself to think about it without white-hot rage coursing through my veins.

“If you’re buying the coffee, I might have something in forty-eight hours,” Teo admits. “I’d have to comb through every report he’s ever made over his decade of employment….see if he’s ever messed up enough for us to make something stick.”

“And beating up his girlfriend isn’t good enough?” Martino growls.

“Not unless she’s willing to come forward.”

We stand in sullen silence as the music inside the club seems to taunt us.

“I can’t fire him. I can’t kill him. I can’t beat his sorry ass,” I say into my phone. “What can I do?”

“Beyond talking to him? Sweet nothing.”

I glance over at Martino, who shrugs right back—his eyes gleaming mischievously.

“Good enough for me.”

“Rocco, don’t…”

I hang up on him, much to Martino’s amusement.

We’re at the doors a moment later, pushing past the line of disgruntled partygoers who have likely been standing in line all night.

I waste no time admiring the crush of bodies in the main hall and make my way up to the second floor. As decadentas it appears to be—the building was modeled after ancient Greek temples—the pillars here are hollow, and the stonework is merely manipulated styrofoam.

When we reach the illustrious “party rooms”upstairs, we head toward the staff corridor around the back. Though bare and sterile, it offers a back door into each of the private rooms for discreet package delivery—a hold over from the previous don, who liked to run meetings and handle deliveries here.

“Boss?” Martino calls out when we’re halfway down the corridor, gesturing toward the two-way mirror a few doors down.

I approach with no small amount of trepidation.

Lazzaro. Sprawled out on the pleather couch, he watches two girls dance before him. All are in various states of undress—and sobriety if the lines of white powder on the table are any indication.

He fumbles lazily at his crotch as the movements of the girl closest to him become more lurid. His tongue licks up her neck and a manicured hand slips down into her lacy white panties. I notice a lipstick stain over her bare nipple.

They all approach Lazzaro, swaying their hips as they go. Hands immediately stroke over his chest, his arms, his…

I finally see their faces. I don’t bother knocking. I just kick down the door.

Danny and Teresa scream in shock.

I straighten my suit. “Martino. Make sure no one disturbs us.”

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