Greed (The Deadly Sins)

Trentini stood up and shook his hand. “I’m glad we got that settled.”

“There was nothing to settle. As long as you’re breathing, you have my support and my loyalty.” He let go of Trentini’s

hand. “I’m gonna take a squirt, get my pie, and I’m outta here,” Angelo said, and headed toward the bathroom.

He stayed in there long enough to send Black a text.

Come on in.

“Got your pie already for you, Angelo,” Vinnie said when he came out of the bathroom. He handed Angelo the box as he passed the counter, and then he went in the back of Cattaneo’s.

“Thanks, Vinnie,” Angelo said, walking quickly toward the table. Once he got there, he took a nine-millimeter from the box and shot Trentini in the head as the box fell to the floor.

As Angelo was firing on Trentini, Black came up behind Arturo Bergamaschi and shot him in the back of the head. Then he quickly turned and fired on Vittorio Locatello, hitting him with two shots to the chest.

Angelo stepped closer to the table and shot Trentini twice more in the chest, before turning around to face the customers at Cattaneo’s Family Italian Restaurant.

“I’d like to thank you folks for coming out tonight,” Angelo said as he followed Black out. He had arranged it so only people that were loyal to him were at Cattaneo’s that night. “Just see Vinnie or Seraphina before you leave, and they’ll take care of you.”

Angelo bowed at the waist and left the restaurant. The next day, Angelo Collette was named the new boss of The Curcio Family.

“Congratulations. It is long overdue,” Black said, and they drank to it.

Chapter Four

One Year Later

In his life, Coleman Patterson had gone from decorated police detective, to DEA cyber analyst, to corrupt DEA field agent. Despite showing signs of deception on a polygraph test and declaring bankruptcy with nearly two hundred thousand dollars of debt, Patterson’s talents were apparent. In his field agent’s position, the DEA allowed him to handle millions of dollars in financial transactions. He was setting up undercover operations using the front companies and shell bank accounts that were setup for undercover stings, and sending money and contraband to Columbian cartels on behalf of suspected drug traffickers.

Patterson began to skim money from those accounts and started filing false reports to cover the wire transfers reserved for those undercover operations to accounts that he had setup in Spain and the Netherlands. The accounts were established in someone else’s name, and he used the unknowing victim’s forged signature and social security number to make the transactions look completely legitimate.

He began to spend lavishly on homes in Cartagena, Puerto Rico, and South Florida, a Land Rover, and a BMW. He hosted wild yacht parties with bikini-clad prostitutes. Those parties raised several red flags within the agency; but since those parties were attended by fellow agents and supervisors, it was swept under the rug, and Patterson was transferred to the field office in Caracas. That’s when things went bad and Patterson knew that it was time for him to get out.

The one thing that Patterson picked up during his journey from police detective, to DEA cyber analyst, to corrupt DEA field agent, was that he knew how to get information that he could use to his advantage. That skill was indispensable in his new profession.

Coleman Patterson was now a blackmailer.

The lighting was set appropriately, and a 2016 Ramey Rochioli Vineyard Chardonnay lay chilling in an ice bucket. The soft sounds of Freddie The Freeloader from the Miles Davis classic was playing in the background. Patterson took a final look around. He was ready to receive his guest.

It really didn’t seem to matter to him that their entire relationship was based solely on the fact that he was blackmailing her. Despite that, he thoroughly enjoyed her company and her conversation. She was a highly intelligent woman, and the fact that she was beautiful wasn’t lost on him either. When the doorbell rang, Patterson got up to answer the door.

Without looking to see who it was, Patterson opened the door with a flourish. “You’re early.”

“Am I?”

“Dutch? What are you doing here?”

“I can’t drop in to see an old friend?”

“No, it’s not like that at all,” he forced a smile, but his sudden appearance did concern him. “I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.”

“So, you gonna invite me in?”

“Yeah, sure, Dutch. Come on in,” Patterson said and stepped aside.

“Thanks,” he said and entered the house. “I take it that you were expecting somebody … a little softer and wetter maybe?”

Patterson looked around outside before closing the door. “Just a client.”