Page 49 of Sin & Secrets

“We’re here, boss,” Martino says gruffly as we pull up to a stop on the Upper East Side.

The tower of glass that greets us as we exit is familiar, although I haven’t stepped foot inside since Giuliano’s retirement. Teo offers me a curt nod before I go on without him.

The staff can barely raise their eyes to look at me as I approach the elevator, punching in the code to grant me access to the topmost floor.

My father’s penthouse is more modest than the home I grew up in. He had sold the Moretti Manor himself in an attempt to pay off the Guild’s debts before he had been forced to retire.

It was only one of many reasons the lieutenants petitioned me to seek my inheritance early, but perhaps the most significant. The Moretti name had suffered a great deal under my father’s brutal leadership.

But walking into his den now, it was almost hard to imagine him as anything but docile.

“You must think I have become something of a cliche,” the graying man says without turning to greet me. His hands are occupied with the tending of an impressive array of greenery.

“That depends,” I reply as I approach his makeshift greenhouse. The floor-to-ceiling windows that lead out to the balcony beyond seem to be the perfect climate for his cultivations. “How many of those plants are legal to grow in the US?”

Giuliano smirks to himself. “I’m sure there are some around here somewhere.”

Indeed, my father’s garden is no mere retirement playground. I note several notable drugs and poisons residing within his carefully pruned collection.

“What is it you want, boy?”

I cross my arms as he slowly removes his gardening gloves. “Does a man need an excuse to visit his father?”

“Perhaps if hell has frozen over,” Giuliano muses. “But I’m sure young Teo would be quick to remind me that Dante himself proclaimed the most hellish regions to be made of ice. Howismy favorite orphan? I note he doesn’t deign to visit.”

I keep my expression regulated with indifference. “I believe he had a blade made with your name carved along the hilt.”

Giuliano chuckles. “Such impertinence. And here I thought you condoned forgiveness.”

“Carmine Bellini,” I announce to get us back on track.

“What of him.”

“You knew him better than I.”

“He served me for twenty years,” Giuliano allows. “Does his ghost haunt you?”

I ignore him. “Who were his closest acquaintances?”

Giuliano tilts his head as if trying to decipher the meaning behind my question. “He was an accountant. The only person who could tolerate such dire conversation was Chiavari.”

I knew as much already. In fact, someone in Bellini’s position could have easily forged a loan like the one Lazzaro had obtained, which could completely discredit my theory about there being a second rat linked to Lazzaro.

But why would Bellini do such a thing for Lazzaro? It just didn’t add up.

“Your silence is disconcerting, boy. Why do you ask such questions?”

I shake my head. “Were there others he was close to?”

“He divorced his wife some time ago…” Giuliano narrows his eyes. “You believe he had a co-conspirator.”

“Information continues to leak to the Cartel. I’m simply eliminating the possibility.”

For a moment, Giuliano stares at me in silence. Then, a cruel grin stretches across his lips. “My, my. It must be dire indeed if you’ve come to me for help.”

“I merely wanted to confirm a few details.”

“Then it would be an honor to serve the new don with whatever details he might need!” Giuliano sneers.

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