Chapter 3 - SINS OF THE FATHER
My lungs forgot how to work.
“What?” The word barely made it past my lips.
Luca didn’t hand me the paper. He held it up. The harsh chandelier light illuminated the faded blue ink at the bottom of the page.
Officer Thomas Hayes.
My father.
“He was a beat cop,” I said, my voice rising in panic. “He retired on a bad knee when I was ten. He ran poker games at the VFW. He wasn’t involved in… in this.”
“He was the first responder,” Vanessa said, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “He signed the official statement saying James Moretti died of drowning due to driver negligence. No mention of a bullet. No mention of cut brakes. Your father took a bribe, Emily.”
“No!” I stepped forward, my hands clenching into fists. “My father was an honest man. He struggled to pay the mortgage every month! If he took mob money, where was it?”
“That’s enough,” Luca said. He carefully folded the paper and put it in his breast pocket.
Mr. Bellini sneered. “You see, Luca? We’re not the enemy. Your uncle was driving, and a corrupt cop covered it up. We’ve kept this quiet to protect the Moretti name. Now, honor the bet. Give me the cabin, fire this girl, and let’s enjoy the engagement party.”
Frank was sobbing quietly into his hands.
Luca walked over to the mahogany bar. He poured two fingers of amber whiskey into a crystal glass. He didn’t drink it. He just stared at the liquid.
“The wedding is postponed,” Luca said to the glass.
Vanessa gasped. “Luca, you can’t do that. The families—”
“The families will wait until I know who murdered my father,” Luca snapped, slamming the glass down. The crystal shattered, whiskey and blood blooming across his knuckles.
I flinched, instinctively reaching for a bar towel, but he held up a hand to stop me.
“Get out,” Luca said to the Bellinis.
“You’re making a mistake,” Mr. Bellini warned, buttoning his jacket. “You need us, boy. You don’t have the muscle to run the docks alone anymore.”
“I said get out.”
Vanessa glared at me with pure venom before storming out, her father close behind.
The heavy front doors slammed shut, leaving the three of us in the suffocating silence of the card room.
Frank looked up, his eyes red and swollen. “Luca, I swear to God, Thomas Hayes wasn’t dirty. He didn’t take a bribe.”
“Then why did he sign a fake report, Uncle Frank?” Luca demanded, wrapping a handkerchief around his bleeding hand.
“Because they threatened his wife,” Frank whispered. “They threatened Emily’s mother. She was pregnant with Emily at the time.”
The breath rushed out of me. My mother died when I was an infant. A hit-and-run that was never solved.
Before I could process the horror of what Frank was implying, Luca’s phone buzzed.
He answered it on speaker.
“Boss,” a gruff voice said. It was Marco, Luca’s head of security. “We got a problem. Someone just picked up Frank’s granddaughter from her dance recital.”
Frank let out a guttural scream and collapsed to his knees.
“Mia,” Frank choked out. “She’s only six.”
May you like
“Who picked her up?” Luca demanded, his voice turning to ice.
“A woman,” Marco said over the line. “The teacher said she had a note from Frank. Said her name was Vanessa.”
