The First Sin (Sins of the Past Book 1)

by Jillian Quinn

  I smiled at her through the vanity mirror. “Okay. Just checking. And that was lunch not dinner.”

  My mother was almost never around. We had a non-existent relationship. But she was here now, acting as if no time had passed. She was beautiful, one of the most stunning women I’d ever known.

  “This dress will look incredible on you. I remember when I had a tiny waist and perky boobs. Oh, to be young again. Don’t get old, sweetie.” She sighed at the memory and set the hanger back on the hook. My mom walked up behind me, resting her hands on my shoulders. “You’re so much like me when I was your age, Gianna. I have a picture of me with your father when I was about twenty-five. I wore a dress similar to the one you’re wearing tonight. Your dad took me down to the waterfront for dinner, and then we danced at the edge of the river, drinking from a bottle of wine we stole from the restaurant.”

  “You stole something? Mom, I can’t believe my ears.” Jokingly, I covered my ears, my eyes wide with mock disbelief. “How dare you? I thought you were a saint.”

  She tilted her head back and laughed. “That’s what your father wants you to believe. I was like you once, Gianna. Your father was a bad boy who hung out with the wrong crowd. I thought he was so cute. All of my friends were jealous when I won him over. He did all the wrong things when it came to earning a living, but when it came to me, especially after we had you, he did everything right.”

  “He’s a good dad,” I admitted because it was the truth.

  My mom sat behind me on the edge of the bed and gathered my hair in her hands. “Angelo’s like your dad, only worse.”

  “I know how you feel about him, Mom. You hate Angelo, I get it.”

  She shook her head and continued playing with my curls. “No, not at all. He treats you well, and as far as I know, he’s never done anything to hurt you.”

  “Then, why don’t you like him? I love him, Mom. I’m going to marry Angelo after I get accepted to the Pennsylvania Bar. He’s going to be the father of my children… your grandchildren.”

  “I know, I know.” She sighed. “I wish his business was more… legitimate. Like your father.”

  I laughed. “Carlini Construction isn’t as squeaky clean as you think. We have mobsters on our payroll. They don’t even come into the building to work. Most of them are faceless men, nothing more than names on a check we mail out each month.”

  “Your father made a promise to me last week. He said he was pulling away from the Morellis for good. Tonight’s the last night we’ll have to deal with them.”

  “You say it like tonight’s the beginning of the end. Even if Dad pushed all their guys off our payroll, there’s more damage control that has to be done. It’s not that simple, Mom. And you do realize that I’m marrying into that family. I will become a Morelli someday.”

  “That doesn’t mean they have to run every aspect of your life, sweetie. The company belongs to you and this family, not theirs. Carlini Construction is your birthright.”

  “I would never let them ruin our company.” I applied a coat of lipstick and used a tissue to blot. “Leave all that stuff up to Dad and me. We will take care of it.”

  “I’m so proud of you, Gianna. You have no idea. I wish I was more like you when I was your age.”

  “You just said you were like me.”

  “No, not like you in that sense. I made the same bad decisions which ended up turning out okay in the end, but I never had your fight, your drive.”

  “Do you approve of me wanting to marry Angelo?” The question of the hour. I’d always assumed my mother hated him because of the snide remarks she’d make about him in passing.

  “I think you should marry someone you can’t live without, someone who makes you so happy.”

  “I have that with Angelo,” I whispered. “No one makes me feel the way he does. When we’re together, it’s as if I’m the only person alive. I’m strong when I’m with him. He gives me so much more than his love. Other than Dad, Angelo is the best man I know.”

  I left out the part about how he kills people for a living to save her the headache. But I meant every word I spoke about Angelo. It wasn’t a sales pitch I made up to spin for my mother.

  My mom smiled at me. “Then, yes, I think you should marry him. How about we get you ready for the party and get the hell out of here?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Stuffy catered events were not my thing. As much as I tried to act the part of a councilman’s daughter, I knew nothing about being on the right side of the law. My father’s colleagues stopped at our table to chat. I offered fake stories to them, leaving out the corrupt truths. We talked about law school, and even Angelo chimed in about how we were only a few months away from graduation.

  The night was average, nothing special or out of the ordinary. It was weird to sit with the Morelli family at a public event. Some of the people in the room cast nervous stares in our direction while others embraced having mobsters dine with them. It was a weird night.

  To some people, the Don was like a local celebrity. They knew he had more power than most of the people in the room combined. But a few of them had something he needed most—the ability to sway contracts in his company’s favor. Even someone with Angelo Sr.’s pull needed help on occasion.

  My mother drank flutes of champagne like a champ, trying to pretend as if she didn’t hate all of this as much as the rest of us. She lifted two more off the tray a waiter held out to her. “Honey, you want one?”

  I shook my head. “I’m good.”

  “Why not? Are you pregnant?”

  “Shh… no, Mom. I’m not pregnant. Why does everyone keep asking me that?” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “I have a headache. All the sulfites aren’t helping.”

  She set a flute in front of me. “Live a little. If you drink enough, that headache will go away.”

  I took the glass to make her happy and raised it to my lips. “Salute.”

  “Salute.” Mom chugged the entire glass in one swig.

  Angelo walked up to the table with his father and brothers. He stared down at me, adjusting the gold cufflink at his wrist. My man looked amazing in a tux, he owned every speck of fabric attached to his body. When Angelo moved, he was graceful, as if every step was carefully planned out. He wore a suit every day except to school. But even in a charcoal three-piece tailored number, he’d had stitched by hand, my man still looked out of his element at this party. He had to fake a smile every time someone spoke to him.

  I loved when he smiled. Angelo didn’t do it often enough. It saddened me to see the light which was once in his eyes go out slowly. The weight of his family and the sins of his past were dragging us both down. This lifestyle was sucking all of us dry.

  Angelo sat next to me and hooked his arm around my back. “Having fun?”

  I coughed. “Is that a joke?”

  He gave me one of his signature smirks that set my panties on fire. “Try talking to all these politicians. I feel like an imposter.”

  Made men were nothing like the politicians and donors spread throughout the room. But when it came to money, no one cared where it came from as long as it was the same shade of green.

  “That’s because you’re an imposter,” I joked.

  He slid his hand up to the back of my head, pulled me into his chest, and whispered, “The only time I don’t have to pretend is when I’m with you.”

  “Me, too.”

  Angelo released me when his father tapped him on the shoulder to grab his attention. “Come with me to meet Senator Ackerman.”

  Angelo and his father laughed as if it were some private joke I was not meant to understand. He nodded his head and then turned to me. “I’ll be right back, G. Don’t move.”

  “Do I have to ask you for permission to pee?” I deadpanned with a goofy grin on my face.

  Angelo pressed his lips to my forehead. “Don’t get cute with me. You know how much I like it when you fight me.”

  “Oh, I do.” I twirled
a curl around my finger and peeked up at him as he pushed out his chair and rose to his feet.

  He winked.

  Angelo disappeared into the throng with his father, leaving me at a mostly empty table. His brothers were on the opposite side of the circular banquet table. They were nursing glasses of scotch and whispering to each other so no one could hear. Pete even covered the side of his face with his glass so I couldn’t read his lips if I’d tried. Angelo’s brothers were a point of contention with me. I hated that they came with the package.

  If I wanted Angelo, it was all or nothing. Some days, I wondered if I would survive a few days without him. I was so co-dependent on Angelo, desperate for his touch and the sweet words he whispered to me when we were alone. But we were in danger. The longer I stayed with him, the more I put everyone I loved at risk. But it was hard to ignore the way my heart pounded for him.

  “Honey, you look miserable.” My dad sat in Angelo’s open chair and raised a highball glass to his lips. He gulped down the amber liquid, most of it in one sip.

  “I’m just bored,” I admitted. “These parties are not my thing. I’d rather spend my weekend on the couch. The last few months of school are draining me.”

  Dad nodded, as if he agreed, and took another swig. Unlike my mother, my dad almost never drank. He said alcohol affected his judgment too much, and he had to be on his A game around his friends.

  That night, he was off. After being kidnapped, he was more on edge than normal. Being around Angelo Sr. and his family made him jumpy. We all suspected the Morellis of wrongdoing, though we couldn’t prove it.

  “You’ll get through it,” Dad said. “We’re so proud of you. You’re set to graduate at the top of your class and with honors. Any law firm in the city would be lucky to have you.”

  “A few firms have extended me offers with the promise I pass the Bar, but I’m not sure I want to jump right into working for someone else when you need me at Carlini Construction.”

  He set his glass on the table. “No, nothing doing, Gianna. Go… live your life. You have to separate yourself from the family business.”

  Construction was supposed to be our trade, but it was all a sham. Did we even build anything? The closer I dug into the projects that were coming across my desk, the more I wondered if our business was just a front. We were losing sight of everything—our company, our family, and most of all, our pride. We’d given so much to the Morellis over the years, and all they did was take.

  My dad looked as though he’d aged fifteen years in less than six months. Living in constant fear of retribution had taken its toll on my mother. Even I was starting to lose my patience with it all. We were too involved, too deep into the Morelli way of life.

  “You need me, Daddy. Let me help you until we can figure a way out of this mess.”

  He knew what I meant without saying it aloud. I silenced him when he attempted to argue.

  “I don’t want to fight about it. Not tonight. Let’s enjoy ourselves and pretend like we’re normal. We will work through this together.”

  “You’re right, sweetie.” My dad rose to his feet, leaving the empty glass on the table. “How about a dance?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at the dance floor and smiled. Save for a few people, the space was mostly empty.

  I patted my mom on the back. “Dance with Dad. He’s looking for a partner.”

  My mom finished off another glass of champagne and smiled up at my father. “We haven’t danced in ages. I was telling Gianna about the time we stole the wine bottle and went to Penn’s Landing. Do you remember?”

  Dad laughed and held out his hand to my mom. “How could I forget? That was the night I fell in love with you.” He smiled. “Bianca, come with me. We can steal a bottle of wine from the bar.”

  I’d forgotten how cute my parents could be together. It made me happy but also sad on the inside. I was afraid I would grow apart from Angelo the way my parents had over the years. His business and influence from the Mafia was the reason for my mother’s constant unrest.

  “How about we do it as a family?” Mom tapped her fingers on my shoulder. “Join us, Gianna.”

  Angelo’s brothers were no longer at our table. It was just my parents and I. “Okay.”

  As promised, my dad swiped a bottle of wine from the bar and led us to the dance floor. We took turns drinking from the bottle. My dad spun my mother and me in circles. It was almost perfect, save for the fact we had the Morellis watching us from a distance. They were always observing every move we made.

  “Can I cut in?” Angelo asked my dad after the sixth song. He held out his hand to me. “May I?”

  “You may.” I smiled and slid my hands up his chest, hooking my arms around his neck.

  Angelo’s hands found my waist, his fingers digging into my hips. He whipped me around the floor as if we did this all the time. His movements were fluid, effortless, and I let him guide me. I rested my head on his chest, drifting off to the sound of his heart and the gentle hum of the music.

  I felt his warmth, his love. I felt everything he had to offer. It was moments like those when I reminded myself why I fell for my blue-eyed boy. He was my white knight and the man of my dreams, even if he came in a different package.

  “You look beautiful,” he whispered against the shell of my ear. “By far the most beautiful woman in this room.”

  I glanced up at him, watched him give me a rare smile, and tightened my grip on him. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Did you take care of business?”

  He nodded.

  “Are you mine for the rest of the night?”

  He nodded again, steering us back to where my parents were dancing.

  “I need a smoke,” my mother said to my father.

  “Those things will kill you, my dear.”

  She ignored his comment, and then she tugged on my arm. “Gianna, come outside with us. It’s beautiful out on the balcony. You will love it.”

  I wasn’t a fan of smoking or the smell of it. But she was so persistent. I looked at Angelo, and he shrugged. I had him for the rest of the night.

  The three of us followed my mother outside. She was so bubbly and full of life tonight. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d seen her so happy.

  She ran her long fingers down my father’s arm with a smile. “Dance with me under the moon, Lorenzo.”

  “I think you’ve had too much champagne,” he said to her. “But I’ll be happy to oblige.”

  People on the balcony made room for us, allowing my parents to dance to the classical beat blaring through the outdoor speakers. We had a view of the parking lot, but that wasn’t what my mother had wanted us to see. The moon was full, so bright and big that it looked closer to Earth. We were on the outskirts of Philadelphia where we could see stars for once. I hadn’t seen stars in years until that night.

  I leaned back and into Angelo’s chest, watching as my parents danced under the moonlight without a care in the world. Angelo wrapped his arms around me. Cradled in his warmth, I looked up at the sky and relaxed. The event had turned out to be better than I’d thought.

  After another song ended, my mother peeled herself from my father’s arms. She sifted through the clutch in her hand and produced an empty pack of cigarettes. Annoyed, she stuffed them back in her bag.

  “Can I have the keys, Lorenzo?” My mother opened up her palm. “I left a pack of smokes in the glove box.”

  He made a disgusted face and gave her the keys. Mom pinched his cheek, and he smiled. I leaned back to look up at Angelo, my expression mirroring my dad’s. It was peaceful outside, with no one bothering us.

  Dad moved next to us and looked out at the parking lot in the direction of where my mother was headed. “I haven’t seen her like this in a long time,” he admitted.

  “Me either. It’s nice. She almost seems like herself again.”

  “I think it had to do with what happened last week.”

  He was referring to the kidnapping. My mother was
shaken to the core after we came back from New Jersey. The fear of losing my father was enough to snap her out of the alcohol-induced coma she’d been under since I was in high school.

  The beep from a car alarm was so unusually loud it caught my attention. Almost as soon as I’d heard the noise, a loud boom penetrated my eardrums. I turned and stared in horror, my body numb from the shock of the flames, which rose up from the parking lot. Pushing off from Angelo’s warm body, I stood at the edge of the balcony, with my eyes as wide as my mouth.

  I screamed so loud my ears hurt from the sound of my own voice. “Mooommm…”

  I attempted to jump over the balcony to get to her. My father’s BMW was blown to bits along with the cars around it, pieces of fiberglass and random parts were strewn about everywhere.

  “I got you, G,” Angelo whispered in my ear and hugged me so tight I couldn’t move. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I got you.” He kept repeating himself as if saying the words would somehow help me deal with the fact that my mother was gone.

  My dad dropped to his knees on the ground next to me, sobbing into his hands. I touched my fingers to his shoulder, tears of anger and sadness streaming down my face.

  Someone killed my mother.

  Someone stole her from us.

  A chill ran through my body when I wondered if that someone was the man holding me. The man I loved unconditionally.

  And then I cried all over again.

  For my mother.

  For my father.

  For all the memories we would no longer share as a family. The sad part was that the worst had yet to come. This was only the beginning.

  Part Two

  “Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.”

  -William Shakespeare

  Romeo and Juliet

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gia

  I hated white orchids. They were my mother’s favorite flower, and now all they did was remind me of death. My mother was dead. She was killed by a car bomb, her body blown to pieces. Nothing was left of her to bury, and I still couldn’t wrap my head around it.