He laughed. “We’re friends now?”
We were always cool, hung out together at family functions and school, but we were never as close until that day.
“Yeah, why not?” I stepped up to the counter, ordered cannoli from the baker, and angled my body to finish talking to Sonny. “You don’t annoy me.”
Sonny patted me on the shoulder. “You’re okay, Morelli.”
I shrugged him off and took a step back. “What should we call you? It needs to fit. How about your last name?”
“Bonfiglio?” He rolled his eyes at me. “You try saying that three times fast.”
“Good point. What does your last name mean?”
“Good son,” he told me.
“That’s it.” I took the box of cannoli from the baker and attempted to pay, but he refused. Our money was never any good at the market. I shoved the bill back into my pocket, clutched the box in the other hand, and left the bakery with Sonny.
“How about Sonny?”
He stopped out front of the store and eyed me up, tilting his head to the side as if thinking it over. “Yeah. I like it. But there ain’t nothing good about me.”
“Doesn’t matter, Sonny.” I smacked him on the back. “If anyone ever calls you Sammy again, we’ll set them straight.”
He flashed an evil grin that reminded me of the Joker.
I knew from that moment Sonny would be my best friend for life.
The front door opened, pulling me from my nap. I jumped to my feet with my gun in hand and waited until the footsteps reached the top landing.
Sonny held up his hands. “Don’t shoot. Let me explain.”
He was still wearing the same dress shirt and pants he had on the night of the engagement dinner at my father’s South Jersey compound. His dark hair was messy and unwashed, his dress shirt stained with blood and dirt on the collar. Judging by the cut on his lip and the gash on the right side of his neck someone hit him pretty good.
I aimed the gun at Sonny. “Where the fuck is she?”
Chapter Six
Gia
Sitting on the dirty floor of an oversized office, my heart beat out of my chest with each sound I heard on the other side of the door. I had yet to see who had me now. Hours passed where nothing but the music thumping through the walls filled the void. I was thankful for the noise, even if the obnoxious beat was sending vibrations down my back and legs.
With the drugs still somewhat in my system, I bit back the sickness, not wanting to puke on myself again. I started to doze off when the door creaked open. A soft yellow light filtered into the dark room.
A man I’d never seen before stepped in with a wicked grin on his lips. He tugged at the cufflink on his left sleeve and stalked toward me. I slid my back along the wall, attempting to get away from him. He shook his head, amused, a deep cackle escaping his lips.
In some ways, he reminded me of the men I knew. He had cropped dark hair, olive skin, and eyes so dark they were like soulless pits. His suit fit his muscular frame as if made for him. Angelo wore nothing but handmade suits and shirts. Same as my fiancé, this asshole’s taste in clothing was impeccable.
He turned his back to me to remove a stack of clothes from a shelf on the opposite wall. I tried to get up, thinking I could attack him from behind. But the drugs still owned my body, making me their bitch.
“Don’t even think about getting cute with me.” He threw a black thong and bra onto the tiled floor in front of me. “Get dressed. It’s almost show time.”
“I am dressed,” I countered.
He hunched down in front of me, slicing through me with his menacing gaze. Lifting the thong with his index finger, he held it in front of my face. “This is your new uniform. Get dressed. I won’t tell you again.”
Uniform? What the fuck?
He stood and took a few steps back from me, dropping my new underwear on my thigh.
“You want me to take off my clothes in front of you? No. I don’t think so. I’m not wearing that.”
“Not like it matters. You’ll be taking them off again in front of a much larger audience.” He laughed to himself, finding my humiliation amusing. “Too bad they starved you. I bet your tits looked so much better when you weren’t on your death bed.”
Glancing down at my thinning figure, I considered his words, realizing he expected me to strip for a crowd. Angelo’s family owned Scores, a strip club off the Delaware River. But that didn’t mean much. All of the crime families were into drugs, women, and gambling. Angelo’s family owned brothels and strip clubs from Philadelphia to Las Vegas. If it was illegal, the Morellis had their hand in it.
I peeked up at him, clutching the thong in my hand. “Do you expect me to dance for you?”
He nodded and licked his lips. “You can start with me. Let me get a good look at the pussy that has Angelo Morelli so whipped.”
I balled my hands into fists at my sides, wishing I had the strength to fight him. “You’re disgusting.”
“And you’re a dirty whore about to get auctioned off to the highest bidder. Shut your fucking mouth and put that on, before I do it for you.”
Clutching the underwear in one hand, I used the other to push myself up from the floor. I wanted to run, but my better judgment told me to do as he instructed. With a shaky hand, I pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor.
“Why can’t I wear my bra and panties?”
He shook his head, with a cocky smirk on his lips. “You wear what the boss wants.”
My pain was his pleasure. I could see it in his eyes, read it on his handsome face. He wasn’t much older than Angelo. And he was good looking too. Someone as evil as this man should have been as ugly on the outside as he was on the inside. It was almost unfair. Even the scar above his right eyebrow made him more ruggedly handsome.
As I unhooked my bra and slid the straps down my shoulders, he watched my every move. His lips parted for the split second he saw my breasts, but I quickly put on the black lace bra. Sucking in a deep breath, I mentally prepared myself for the last part, as I pushed the yoga pants over my hips.
With my pants and underwear around my ankles, he moved his arms from his chest to his sides and stepped forward. He bent down in front of me and lifted each of my feet to help me step out of my clothes. I had to press down on his shoulders, so I didn’t fall over, which put my pussy inches from his face.
He took the thong from between my fingers and repeated the same process to help me slide it up my thighs, touching my skin on purpose. I closed my eyes and bit down on my bottom lip, trying not to cry.
“Why am I here?” I choked out the words.
He stood and shoved his hands into his black slacks, pushing the suit jacket to the sides to reveal more of his navy oxford, and the gun he had holstered at his waist.
“To settle a debt.”
Is he doing this to scare me?
Growing up around the Mafia, I was no stranger to guns. He would have to do better than flash his piece to get under my skin.
Was this for Angelo’s debt or my father’s?
Without another word, the man gripped me by the arm, digging his fingers into my bicep. Pain radiated up the left side of my body. He dragged me down a long, dimly lit hallway painted a deep shade of red that almost looked black.
Once we reached the end of the hall, he opened the door to a large dressing room with rows of vanities, and skimpy costumes hung on racks. My stomach clenched at the thought of parading around in the underwear this man had picked out for me.
He tightened his grip on my arm and led me through the room. “Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?”
He remained silent. Awaiting his answer, my chest filled with dread. In a thong that rode up my ass and a barely-there lace bra that left nothing to the imagination, I felt so exposed and vulnerable.
A girl came out from behind a curtain and stopped in front of us, eyeing me up. “You can’t send her out there looking like that.” Sh
e pointed at one of the vanities. “Sit her over there, and I will take care of her for the boss.”
He released his grip on me, allowing the woman to steer me toward a counter with tons of makeup and hair products resting on it. She pushed on my shoulders to force me to sit in the chair in front of her. “Girl, you smell something awful. Where have they been keeping you? A barn.”
“In a dark room,” I spit back. “And a white room. I honestly have no idea. They drugged me.”
“How long does she have?” she asked the man behind us, watching me in the mirror. “Can I throw her in the shower first?”
He glanced down at his watch. “You have fifteen minutes.”
The woman smiled at him. “Not a problem.” Then, she looked at me. “Follow me.”
I never wanted a shower more in my life. The man helped me up and pushed me in front of him, cupping my ass in his big hands. He lightly smacked my ass cheek, the sting sending pain up my side.
I jumped forward and yelped. “Hey!”
Angelo hurt me much worse in the bedroom. This was a love tap compared to sex with Angelo. Still, he had no right to touch me.
“You’re the property of the DiSalvo’s now,” he muttered.
It took a few seconds for his words to sink in. The DiSalvo’s were a small crime family who ran Atlantic City. It all hit me at once. The saltwater and the sounds of waves crashing were from the boardwalk. I’d been to Atlantic City dozens of times with Angelo for overnight stays.
But why was I here?
It was the question of the hour.
Chapter Seven
Angelo
Sonny held his hands in the air with a look of shock on his face. “Don’t shoot me, Lo. You know me. I didn’t hurt Gia.”
I moved closer to him, my gun still raised and pointed at his head, and repeated my question. “Where the fuck is she, Sonny? You were the last person to see her, and then you disappeared along with her? Talk about a coincidence.”
“I love her, too. You know I do. I would never hurt Gia. You have to believe me.”
“Maybe that’s the problem. You’ve loved Gia for most of our lives and not in a sisterly way.”
Sonny laughed. “Fuck you! Seriously, go fuck yourself. You know what? Go ahead and pull the fucking trigger. Let’s see if you have the balls to do it. I’m your oldest friend, one of the few people you can trust, and you have the nerve to blame me for Gia being taken?”
“You were supposed to watch her. I trusted you with Gia’s life, you stupid fuck. What do you not get about that? Because of you, my fiancée is missing. She could be fucking dead by now.”
He shook his head. “Look, Lo. I had nothing to do with it.”
“Where is she, Sonny?” I yelled so loud my voice echoed off the ceiling.
“I’m going to lower my hands. I’m not reaching for a gun. Don’t shoot me, okay?”
I nodded, and Sonny dropped his arms to his sides and unbuttoned his dirty dress shirt. He dropped it onto the back of a wooden chair in the dining room, giving me a better look at his bruised abdomen. Someone had hit him good, the dark marks covering most of his chest. Where he wasn’t covered in dark tattoos, he had scars and cuts marring his skin.
Sonny turned to face me. “You think you can ditch the gun? I didn’t take her, and I wasn’t in on it. Do I love Gia? Yes, like a hot step-sister I’d love to fuck.”
I laughed at his comment, something I hadn’t done in a long time.
He pointed at me. “A smile? How about that? Would you stop being a stupid prick and drop the gun already? You know I would never touch a hair on her head. I would die for her, too. That’s why you asked me to watch Gia. I fucked-up, I know.”
I set the gun on the coffee table and sat on the couch, pointing at the other side for Sonny to join me. He plopped down on the cushion with a loud groan. Sonny propped his elbow up on the armrest to use it for support.
“Start talking,” I told him, my voice stern.
As much as I wanted to believe Sonny had nothing to do with Gia’s kidnapping, I couldn’t trust anyone. My heart was becoming too black to allow anyone in other than Gia and my mother.
“Everything was fine,” Sonny began, “and then the next minute, I woke up in a dark basement chained to an old radiator that wouldn’t stop leaking.”
“Did you recognize the place?”
He scrunched his nose and shook his head. “Nope. It’s hard to say. The room was so dark the only light I had came in through a small crack in the painted glass.”
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Like stained glass?”
He shrugged. “Could have been.”
“There’s an old church that closed down years ago. Enzo used it sometimes to torture people.”
“The glass could have been painted that way and not stained. I’m not sure. All I know is the window was big enough to fit a small child through and narrow as fuck. I tried to climb up there a few times and almost ripped off my fingernails.”
I glanced down at Sonny’s hands. His nails were caked in blood and dirt. Although he could have done that himself to lend credibility to his story, I believed him. Worry furrowed his brows, but that was normal given the situation.
“What else do you remember?” I leaned forward on my elbows, locking on to him. “Tell me what happened after the engagement dinner.”
He relaxed against the couch, with his arms folded across his chest, and kicked his foot up on the coffee table. My gun rattled next to the remote from the force.
“I brought Gia home like you told me to do. She changed into her pajamas.”
“What was she wearing?”
“A pink tank top.” He tilted his head to the side to think it over. “Black pants, you know the stretchy kind that makes her ass look good?”
I rolled my eyes at him and sighed. “Uh-huh. Stop talking about my girl like that, or I will pick that gun back up.”
He chuckled. “What? I can’t help it that you have a hot girlfriend.”
“She’s going to be my wife, dick.”
“Whatever. One day, she’ll be a MILF, too.”
I raised my hand to silence him. “Enough out of you, Sammy.”
His mouth opened wide in shock. “What happened to our deal? You know I hate that name.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m not the one violating bro code. Keep talking. About the night you and Gia were taken and not her ass.”
“Yes, Boss.”
I tried not to roll my eyes. He always called me that, but I would never become the boss after my father. I had zero interest in running the organization. If I had my way, I would have left with Gia and never turned back. But I had obligations to my father and brothers. I was a lot of things, and a loyal bastard was one of them.
“Can we continue this conversation in the kitchen?” Sonny asked, getting up from the couch. “I haven’t eaten a solid meal in who knows how many days.” He angled his body to look at me. “How long was I gone?”
“Seven days.” I lifted my gun from the table, tucked it into my waistband, and followed Sonny into the kitchen. “Almost eight.”
“Did anyone call about Gia yet?”
“Nope, I haven’t heard a goddamn thing from anyone.”
“That’s weird, don’t you think? If the person who took her wanted something from you, I would have expected them to come to collect by now.”
“You would think. Gia has nothing to do with any of the shit we have going on with the North Jersey family and Enzo.”
He opened the refrigerator, took out two Cokes, and handed one to me. We cracked the aluminum cans open and took a long sip, staring at each other. I hadn’t taken my eyes off Sonny since he walked into the living room. Sonny had never given me a reason to doubt him. He was always a good friend and soldier in the Morelli army.
“Maybe it’s because you killed Enzo’s son.”
“There are too many reasons. I don’t even know where to start.”
I kicked out
a chair at the breakfast bar and sat, while Sonny made himself a sandwich. He removed half the contents of the fridge and dumped them on the counter. Deli meats, cheeses, spreads, and a loaf of Italian bread were picked over in a matter of seconds.
“When was the last time you ate?”
He peeked up from the pile of sandwiches he’d made. “Once a day, someone came in with a bowl of soup. Well, it was more like clear broth, maybe chicken. It had no flavor, but it kept me from gnawing my arm off.”
I sipped my soda and dropped it to the marble island. “I hope whoever has Gia isn’t making her suffer because of the shit I did in the past.”
“We’ll get her back.” Sonny’s voice indicated confidence I was losing by the day. “I’ll help you. I won’t stop until we find her.”
The longer Gia was gone, the more I wondered if the people who took her killed her the night they kidnapped her.
Was I waiting for her body to float in the Delaware River? The thought made me nauseous.
“Why haven’t they called yet? If all of this was to get my attention, they have it. What if Enzo knows I whacked his son? He could have killed Gia as payback.”
“He would have dumped her by now,” Sonny pointed out. “Enzo wouldn’t keep her on ice. He’s not into that kind of shit.”
Sonny was right. Like my father, Enzo favored torture over death. It was hard to get something out of someone when they were no longer breathing. On the other hand, I preferred to get it over with. If someone ended up on my shit list, it was with good reason. I hated baggage. The dead couldn’t retaliate, they couldn’t come back years later for revenge.
“Were you in there with anyone else?”
He shook his head with his mouth full of food. “Nah. Just me.” Sonny licked mustard from the corner of his lips and shoved the rest of the sandwich into his mouth, chomping louder with each bite. “A guy came in with food and water once a day. I never got a good look at him. Dark hair, tan skin, and black clothes were all I noticed. He could have been anyone. But he was well dressed. Probably connected.”
The Ultimate Sin Page 3
