Sin I Rise: Part One (Sins of the Fathers 1)

I guess I’d have to stay single indefinitely.

A soft knock sounded, and Mom came in. “Can I talk to you?”

I nodded and sat up. I didn’t want to mope around on the bed like a five-year-old. Mom perched on the mattress beside me and gave me an understanding smile. She was always understanding. I supposed she’d learned that behavior in her marriage with Dad.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I said. I wasn’t sad about losing Giovanni, not really. “I’m just sad I didn’t end things sooner.”

Mom tilted her head. “Is there anything you want to tell me that you couldn’t say in front of your dad?”

I laughed. “Giovanni didn’t do anything so I don’t have to protect him. Dad would probably give him accolades for being such a perfect gentleman.”

Mom bit her lip, obviously fighting amusement.

“Go ahead, laugh. I feel like a laughingstock anyway,” I muttered. “Is it so wrong to want it all? Love, passion, and someone that Dad likes… or at least tolerates?”

“Maybe things would improve after your wedding.”

I shook my head. “Giovanni will always try to please Dad with everything he does.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“You were so lucky that you got Dad. He is the one everyone fears. He’d never try to please anyone. He takes what he wants.”

“I didn’t see it that way at first. I was terrified of your father. Love and passion required some work on both parts.”

“No matter how hard I try I can’t imagine you being scared of Dad. You are like yin and yang, you complement each other.”

“Someday, you’ll find that special someone.”

“Where?”

“Where you least expect it.”

Gunnar and I waited in the van, smoke filling the inside. Since we’d left the clubhouse, I had smoked pretty much non-stop. Today was the day. I had to admit I was nervous like a virgin before her cherry got popped. We’d been trailing Marcella for weeks now, waiting for the perfect moment to abduct her. Unfortunately, the safety measures Vitiello had put in place for her were almost impenetrable. Earl was losing patience, but a risky maneuver would only alert Vitiello and not get us anywhere. Maybe this was our only chance. I wouldn’t mess up.

“Maybe she left through another door,” Gunnar said. His shoulder-length gray hair had fallen almost completely out of his ponytail because of his constant fretting. I’d never seen him so nervous.

“Nah,” I said. “The cars are still here. Let me check the area.”

I hopped out of the van and squashed my cigarette under my boot before I strolled along the pavement. I felt naked without my cut, but wearing anything that linked me to Tartarus would have been stupid and pretty much suicide. Even in civilian clothes, the risk of being spotted by one of Marcella’s bodyguards was still high, but I could feel it in my blood that today was the day.

Eventually, I spotted the spoiled princess. She talked to an older man in loafers and a mustard-yellow suit coat, probably a professor. I hadn’t even finished high school so I didn’t have much experience with these things but he looked like someone who spent too much time with his nose in books.

Her bodyguards kept a respectful distance but were still too close for us to grab her. We had enough ammo and guns to conquer the entire college, but we wanted to keep things as low-key as possible. We didn’t want the police on our backs. Having Vitiello and the Famiglia lighting fire under our asses was more than enough. Not to mention that Vitiello paid half the cops, so they’d probably hand us right over to him and then we’d be pulp.

I trailed Marcella at a safe distance on campus. I’d even grabbed a couple of books in the library to look my part. She studied business and marketing or pretended to do so. I bet her daddy bought her degree for her. Not that she needed a college education, she’d marry that sappy fiancé and become a trophy wife like all the mob women.

I hadn’t seen Marcella and her boy toy together in over a week, which was unusual, but today he trailed her again like a lost puppy. He didn’t know much about women if he couldn’t see how annoyed she was by his simpering begging. But his whining eventually worked and she followed him to his car for a conversation. Of course, the posh boy had a fancy Mercedes Cabriolet. The Famiglia just swam in money.

She ordered her bodyguards away and they stayed back at the stairs to the main building.

I straightened and grabbed my phone to send Gunnar a text. Keeping an eye on Marcella and her boy toy, I jogged over to the old van and got into the passenger seat where I dropped the books on the floorboard. Slowly, Gunnar steered the car toward the parking lot where Marcella and her fiancé seemed caught in an argument in front of his sleek car.