The First Sin (Sins of the Past 1)

“This will be the last time. I can’t handle the fallout from your war. My wife is dead, and my daughter is falling apart. We can’t be linked together anymore.”

“Lorenzo,” my father said, lowering his voice, so I had to strain to hear him. “Our families have been in business together for a long time. Together, we could rule the city.”

“At one time, that was my hope, too, Angelo. If anyone understands there are necessary evils we must conquer, I do. But I cannot put Gianna or her future at risk. She’s the only family I have left. Surely you must understand the position I’m in.”

Hearing Gia’s name made my heart skip another beat, before dropping into my stomach like an anchor hitting the ocean floor. I knew where this was going without Lorenzo finishing what he’d come to the house to say.

Shoes clacked against the floor beneath me. The sound traveled to the back of the house and to the kitchen, followed by chairs scraping along the tiled surface. Their voices were too distant to hear, so I crept down the stairs, hoping to catch part of their conversation. The closer I got to the kitchen, the easier it was for me to hear the end of their conversation.

“A car bomb,” Lorenzo said to my father, with hatred in his tone. “That was how you killed Scags and his men.”

“I didn’t order a hit on your wife,” my father spat back, defensive.

“Gianna is all I have left, apart from my company. Your Mafia war will not interfere anymore with my life. I am through with you, Angelo. I wish there was some way to work this out, but I don’t see another option other than to sever ties. I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked of me. I can’t help you anymore. There’s too much blood on both of our hands.”

“The war between my family and Enzo is almost over. Is the arrangement with the Irish not working out?”

“Yes, it’s working out great,” Lorenzo said. “Gia likes Connor. He’s good to her.”

My blood ran cold from his words, sending a chill down my spine.

Has Gia moved on with a fucking Irishman?

No fucking way.

“I’m glad to hear it, Lorenzo, but you didn’t come here to discuss your protection detail.”

“I’m running for mayor. I am doing this for my daughter and her future. If there’s one thing we both understand, it’s the importance of family.”

“Family is everything,” my father said, which caused me to wince. He was almost never home when we were kids. Ma was the one who had instilled the importance of family in my brothers and me.

“Then, let me go, Angelo. It’s not just my company. I can’t run for mayor with ties to criminal organizations.”

Lorenzo had sworn an oath to my father, one that required my father’s endorsement for him to break.

“You made it to City Council with ties to us.”

“It’s not the same, and you know it,” Lorenzo said.

An awkward silence passed between them before my father spoke again. “There will come a time when I will need a favor.” My father’s voice was almost a whisper, and I clung to the spindle at the bottom of the steps, gripping the wood in my hands, as I strained to hear, hanging on every word.

“What kind of favor?” Lorenzo sounded hesitant, as he should.

Owing a debt to my father was like signing a contract with the devil in blood. He would make you wish you’d never met him.

“That’s the beauty of a favor, Lorenzo. You never know when you will need one. I’ll be in touch.” My dad smacked Lorenzo on the back, as he said the last part, causing him to cough.

“I’m a man of my word,” Lorenzo said. “But this favor starts and ends with me. Promise me that Gianna will never be indebted to you.”

“Because we are old friends, I want to grant your request.” My father’s tone was firm and with no room for argument. “But I might need your help with the construction business in the future.”

“I won’t have a company for her to run if you go through with this, Angelo. I’m a reasonable man, as are you, so please take my request into consideration.”

“Fine,” my father said. “I will call on you when the time comes. Until then, my old friend.”

“Thank you, Angelo,” Lorenzo said, relieved.

A few seconds later, their footsteps grew closer to the living room. Lorenzo murmured his thanks in Italian, and then, my dad escorted him outside. When he came back into the house, my father closed the door behind him and stared up at me. The look in his deep brown irises could have turned me to dust.