The Ultimate Sin (Sins of the Past Duet Book 2)

by Jillian Quinn

  Chapter Nineteen

  Gia

  After the auction ended, Anthony dragged me off the stage by my arm. He almost ripped it out of its socket with how much force he’d used to move me. My eyes filled with tears when it hit me I was sold to the highest bidder. Someone paid nine million dollars for me. To do what they wanted with me. All because of my connection to the Morellis.

  The sickness that rose from my stomach each morning threatened to choke me. Most of the time, I could fight the waves of nausea, but this time, it won. I couldn’t stop from throwing up on myself. Anthony held me at his side, which left no wiggle room to break free. But once he caught wind of me puking, he loosened his grip and gave me some space to hurl the contents of my stomach onto the floor.

  “You’re cleaning that up,” Anthony informed me. He stood over me with his hands on his hips, staring down at me with his hate-filled eyes.

  Ignoring his comment, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. The foul taste on my tongue made me sick all over again. I threw up until nothing was left in my stomach. With the tile floor covered in vomit, I knew there was no way I was getting out of here without scrubbing the floor. Anthony tugged on the thin strap of my dress and pulled me toward a closet. It contained mops, buckets, and bottles of cleaning supplies.

  He shoved a mop into my chest and caught me off guard. “Clean this shit up before Dante comes in here.”

  I stumbled backward, clutching the mop in my hand. The wood hurt my fingers, small splinters burrowing into my skin. I did as I was told and mopped up my dinner. What didn’t hit the floor was on my arm and dress. The white fabric was stained and looked disgusting. For my sake, I hoped Dante would give me another outfit to wear. I smelled horrible, and with the tears streaming down my face, the mascara Lucky had applied was running down my cheeks.

  Maybe my disheveled appearance would give me a reprieve from whoever had bought me. I could only hope. But luck had not been on my side.

  After I finished, Anthony dragged me down the back hallway of the club and into a room where Lucky was waiting for me. She approached me with caution, reaching up to touch my face once she was in front of me. Lucky stroked my cheek with the back of her hand, and I leaned into her touch. I was fortunate to have had her on my side for the past few weeks. We’d become friends, even if our bond was made under duress.

  “Take care of yourself, Raven.” She moved her hand from my face to my stomach. “And this baby.”

  “I don’t know for sure,” I confessed.

  She smiled. “I do. I hope whoever bought you takes care of you both. You deserve better than this life.”

  Her words brought tears to my eyes that she wiped away with her thumb. “Sit down. Let me fix your hair before you go.” She studied my vomit covered dressed and sighed. Staring up at Anthony, she said, “Can you grab my bag from Dante’s office? It has another dress inside.”

  He nodded and left the room without speaking, leaving Lucky and me by ourselves. She steered me over to a wooden desk and pushed on my shoulders to gesture for me to sit in the high back leather chair made for an executive.

  “I was hoping Dante would keep you,” she said, tugging at my curls with her fingers. “I’m going to miss you.”

  I looked up at her, and she stopped playing with my hair. “Under different circumstances, we could have been friends.”

  Her face lit up with the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Maybe someday.”

  “I doubt it. Even if I find my way back to Angelo, he will come for Dante. That would put us on opposing sides.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe one day our men will work things out. It was nice knowing you, Raven.”

  “Gia,” I corrected for the first time since she told me to choose a fake name.

  “Gia.” She sighed. “Hearing your real name reminds me you’re a person and not some rich man’s property.”

  “You should remember that, too. If you ever want to get away from Dante, I could help you. My family will protect you.”

  “That’s kind of you, Gia, but this is where I belong. With Dante and his girls.”

  I stood up from the chair, staring at the girl who helped me get through the past few weeks. In some ways, having Lucky on my side saved me. I wrapped my arms around her, desperate for her warmth. She was the only person I had on my side. I clung to Lucky because I would miss her. And because I was scared of where I would end up once I let go.

  Anthony came back into the room, forced me to undress in front of him, ogled me the entire time, and then told me it was time to leave.

  Lucky hugged me one last time and whispered, “Goodbye, Gia,” into my ear.

  “Goodbye, Alexandria,” I whispered back, using her real name. “Never forget who you are.”

  She held me at an arm's length and smiled. “You, too. I hope we see each other again.”

  “Me, too,” I admitted.

  I’d never had girlfriends. It was always Sonny and Angelo. They were my friends until Angelo later became my everything. Still, Sonny was my only true friend. I had female acquaintances, but it never amounted to more than polite discussion, mostly because of my connection to the Mafia. I couldn’t allow anyone who didn’t understand our world to get too close. But Lucky understood.

  Our short moment ended with Anthony gripping my bicep in his big hand. “For old time’s sake,” he breathed against the shell of my ear. Then, he jammed a needle in my neck.

  The last thing I remembered was Lucky waving at me with a bright smile on her face.

  Chapter Twenty

  Gia

  I awoke on a mattress in a dark room lit by candles scattered around the perimeter. Twin mattresses were on the floor around me, at least twenty of them. My heart pounded against my rib cage, attempting to claw its way out of my chest. Overwhelmed by my new surroundings, the fear kicked in. Adrenaline shot through my veins, causing me to panic. I sat up and looked around the room.

  Where am I?

  The floor was tiled, the walls brick and painted with a white sealant. A chill ran through me from the cold air that blew through the large, open space. I was wearing the skimpy white dress Lucky gave me before I left the club. My stomach burned from the lack of food and the hunger pains that hit me all at once. I couldn’t keep down a meal to save my life. All I’d done for the past few weeks was vomit.

  The acidic taste in the back of my throat mixed with the cottonmouth from the drugs made it hard for me to form any spit. I was thirsty, beyond dehydrated. Water was my friend. If I could find some. I got up from the bed and walked around the room, searching for something to drink. I dropped to the floor when I saw a bottle of Nestea next to a mattress in the corner. It was empty, not a single drop left.

  Dammit.

  I staggered over to the only door in the room and clutched the knob in my hand. To my surprise, it turned. My eyes and mouth widened in shock. It was too good to be true. I turned the knob slowly, careful not to make a sound. For all I knew, I was being set up. This was a test to see if I would pass. But I had to try to escape. I wasn’t Raven. I wasn’t a bird someone could cage.

  The door made a tiny creak when I pulled it open. No one was waiting for me. I poked my head into the dark hallway, looking from left to right. To my right was a man who sat in a chair with his hands on his lap. He was wearing a suit and wingtips, definitely a Made man. They had a particular polished look about them which was a dead giveaway. His dark hair was gelled into place, his head tilted to the side. He had his eyes closed as if he was sleeping. For my sake, I hoped he was out cold.

  There was only one way out, and it was past him. I released my grip on the doorknob and crept past him on my tip-toes. He stirred when I moved by, but didn’t open his eyes. This was too easy.

  No way would a man pay nine million dollars for me and allow me to leave without a fight.

  Nope, this had to be a trap.

  I was free from my prison. My body burned from the ache in my weak bones, but I took off
down the hall and kept on running. The soles of my feet tore open as they scraped the cement floor, leaving bloody trails in my path. I blocked out the pain, so close to making my escape.

  “Hey,” the man yelled from behind me.

  I didn’t bother to look over my shoulder. He was on my tail. His musky cologne filled the air behind me, his stench choking me with each step he took in my direction. When I hit the end of the hall, he closed the distance between us, reaching for my arm he missed. I swerved around the corner, plunged myself further into the darkness.

  The walls were made of unfinished brick that had wires hanging from it. The exposed ceiling was open, with wooden planks holding up the insulation. Camping lanterns were placed sporadically along the trail, the yellowish glow providing me with enough light to see.

  I was so sure I’d hit a dead end when I turned another corner. But I was wrong. The door to my freedom was right in front of me. I picked up the pace, my body kicking into overdrive. Only a few more steps. Almost there.

  With seconds to spare, I clutched the doorknob and swung it out. It hit the man behind me in the face, but that didn’t deter him one bit. He grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me into his chest.

  I wasn’t going back to that room.

  No fucking way.

  Using every ounce of strength I had left, I planted my foot on the wall and pushed back into him. He lost his balance long enough to loosen his grip on my shirt, long enough for me to elbow him in the face.

  My jailer let out a deep growl. His breath stunk of cigarettes and coffee. I elbowed him again, this time even harder. No one was stopping me from climbing the stairs before me. Not even this fucker. He swatted at me, his long fingers making contact with my skin. My skin ripped open from his nails, just another mark to add to the rest. I made it up a few steps before I had to hold onto the short railing and kick him again and again until he’d fallen to the bottom landing.

  My freedom was so close I could taste it. I made it up the last few stairs to the wooden door at the top, with stank breath on my ass. The door didn’t give at first, but a hard shove with my shoulder made it give way.

  I fell to the floor with a loud thud, my hipbone breaking my fall. With the man right behind me, I sucked up the pain and crawled across the white marble. Why was it so much nicer upstairs? Polished whites and creams were so bright my eyes burned. Going from the basement to this floor was like a vampire climbing out of a coffin in the middle of the day. Maybe this was heaven. Wherever I had been kept sure as fuck was hell.

  I attempted to get up without any effort. Crashing to the hard floor proved to be too much to overcome. So, I slid on my right side along the tile until I ran into another man.

  “Gia?” His voice stopped me dead in my tracks.

  I touched his black dress shoe and gasped, staring up at him in horror. I closed my eyes and blinked a few times.

  Had I been dead all along and was dreaming?

  Defeated, deflated, unsure of how to respond, I fell into the wall and sobbed.

  I glanced around at my surroundings, now realizing where I was being detained. “Were you in on this?”

  Angelo knelt on the floor next to me, pulled me to him, and stroked my hair with his fingers. He hugged me so close, all while his body trembled, shaking right through me. “Gia, it’s me. I got you, baby. “I don’t understand. How are you here?” He sounded confused. “I’ve looked everywhere for you. Someone bought you.”

  Each kiss he planted on my head made me shiver. “Why would you let them take me?”

  He stopped threading his fingers through my hair and tilted my chin up with his big hand. “What did you say?” Angelo shook his head. “I’ve been out there killing everyone who got in my way to find you.”

  Angelo looked up at my captor and said, “Hey, Vin,” as if he were talking to a friend.

  I sat up and shoved Angelo away from me, pointing at the man standing across from us. “You know him?”

  “Yeah. Don’t you remember Vince Bianchi? He’s worked at the compound for years on my father’s personal security detail.”

  I pressed my palm to the wall and used it for support, as I pushed myself up to standing. “He kidnapped me, Angelo. How could you? How could you let your father do this to me?”

  Angelo narrowed his eyes at me. It took him a second to process what I’d said before he hopped up from the floor and pulled out his gun. Vince backed up into the wall behind him and slid along it, reaching for the gun at his waist.

  “You motherfucker,” Angelo growled.

  “I was following orders,” Vince spat back. “Just like you, I do what I’m told.”

  “You were told to kidnap and torture my girl?”

  Vince shook his head.

  Angelo’s mouth twisted in anger. “How long has Gia been here?”

  “A day or two.”

  “My father knew about this,” Angelo hissed.

  Vince nodded. “He sent me to collect her.”

  With both men holding their guns in front of them, I said a silent prayer. It was like watching two men square off in an old Western. They approached each other, all while keeping a safe distance. Angelo was good with a gun, but I didn’t know a thing about Vince. For all I knew, he had perfect aim. I wasn’t about to take the chance. Not when I’d just gotten Angelo back.

  Remembering that Angelo kept a gun strapped to his ankle for emergencies, I scooted along the floor. Both men were engaged in their stare down, too busy to notice me. Angelo didn’t flinch when I slipped my hand beneath his pant leg. If he felt me there, he didn’t let on to it. I retrieved the gun, and Vince lowered his gaze to meet mine.

  He moved his hand, about to point his gun at me, but I beat him to the punch and took the first shot. I fired and hit him in the shoulder. It didn’t do much, but it was something. Angelo used this to his advantage and sunk a bullet into the man’s skull. The stubborn bastard didn’t die right away. Four more bullets to the head caused him to fall backward, hitting the tile floor with a bang. I handed Angelo his gun, and he helped me up from the floor.

  Men were running down the hall toward us with their guns in their hands, surveying the situation.

  “What happened?” One man asked Angelo.

  “I killed the man who stole my girl from me.” His eyes were vacant, the man I loved lost somewhere along the way. “Where the fuck is my dad?” He pointed both guns at the three men standing in front of him, and I pushed myself up from the floor to join him.

  “I don’t know,” one man said. “He’s probably in his office.”

  “What’s with all the commotion?”

  Angelo angled his body to glance over his shoulder at his father—the man who deserved to die more than anyone.

  “How could you?” Angelo pointed one gun at his father and the other at his men, his jaw clenched in anger. “You took Gia from me. For what? To prove a fucking point? Do you know how many people I killed to find her? And here, she was in the same fucking house as me all along. I have been sleeping upstairs the entire time. Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

  “Because he’s your father.” Ma stepped out from the kitchen, as white as a sheet. Tears streamed from her eyes, falling down her cheeks. “Please, Angelo. Don’t do this. Your father is a bad man. You don’t have to be like him.”

  “I already am like him.” Angelo’s hand shook, biting back the tears. “He made me this way, Ma.”

  In all the years I had known Angelo, I’d never heard him raise his voice to his mother.

  “Dad ruined all of our lives. Look what he’s been doing to you for years, Ma. Let me do it. Let me put this bastard out of his misery.” Angelo’s entire body trembled as he pointed the gun at his father, his face twisted in pain. “He deserves to die.”

  “Fathers shall not be put to death for their sons, nor shall fathers be put to death for their fathers,” Ma said to Angelo, moving closer to him.

  “Ma, don’t quote the Bible to me,�
� Angelo shot back. “God is punishing us for his sins. He can’t get away with this. Everything he’s done was supposed to be for us. For this family. But all he does is hurt us. He only cares about himself and his power.”

  Ma stood in front of Angelo and cupped her hands over his, her face stained with tears. She peeled Angelo’s finger from the trigger and took the gun from his hands. “This isn’t how I raised you, cucciolo. You can still be a good Catholic. Your sins can be forgiven. But you have to start by forgiving your father. Like you, he was made this way. He doesn’t know any different.”

  Dropping his hands at his sides, Angelo stared into his mother’s eyes. “Do you know how many people I have killed? Do you know how many people I have tortured? And I will do it again. Without even blinking an eye. Because he made me like this. He made me a killer. He made me like him. This is what he wanted. Pete, Marco, and me, we are his creation. He designed us to become cold-blooded killers.”

  Don Morelli barked a few orders in Italian to the men crowded in the hallway with us. They put their guns down and walked away from us. I was still shaking, my body still weak from being held in captivity for so long.

  For weeks, I’d vowed to end the life of the man who did this to me. But I couldn’t kill Angelo’s father with his mother pleading for his life. I no longer had a mother. Mrs. Morelli was the closest I had to a mother now that mine had been taken from me. Like Angelo, I couldn’t cause her more pain. We both wanted revenge, but it would have to be under different terms.

  “I didn’t take her,” the Don said to Angelo. “I bought her. For you.” He moved closer with his hands out at his sides to show Angelo he didn’t have a gun.

  Angelo looked at his father, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Then, why were you keeping her in the basement?”

  “Vince picked her up late at night. He brought her down there so he wouldn’t wake your mother. You killed one of my most loyal men for no reason. He was protecting Gia. He wasn’t going to hurt her.”