“Someone has to worry. You’ve always gone running off on your own. Ever since we were kids, you had to be part of everything. Have you ever stopped to consider some things are hidden for a reason?” He rolled a sleeping Faith over to the desk and sat in the chair across from me. “What are you even looking for? Dusty land documents aren’t going to get you far.”
I let out a groan of frustration. “I have no idea. When it jumps out at me, I’ll let you know. My dad is keeping secrets from me.” I fisted the folder in my hand, mentally cursing my father for making me go on this witch-hunt. “Why are we selling so much of our holdings to the Morelli family? I know my dad feels obligated to pay Angelo Sr. back for buying me, but he has to be paid back by now. At this rate, I won’t have a company left to run. I’m not even sure we’re in the business of building anymore. Was this ever a construction company, or did we only buy land and manufacturing equipment to pretend we were legit?”
Sonny leaned back and kicked his dress shoe up on the edge of the desk to get comfortable. “I’d ask you to come back downstairs with Faith and me, but I have a feeling you will fight me until you find something.”
“Either help me or get out.” I pointed at the door, attempting to keep a straight face, and failed miserably.
We both laughed, our voices loud enough to cause Faith to stir in her stroller. She was a good baby and slept as much as she ate. I lucked out with her.
Sonny huffed. “Fine. Just tell me what to do. If digging through papers will make you feel better, give me some.”
I shoved a few file folders across the desk at Sonny. “Flip through them and look for anything suspicious with the transactions.”
“Street smart,” he said, pointing at his head, “not book smart. I’m not like you and Angelo.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s not that hard, Son. Look at the numbers on the papers and make sure they match up. Check the bank wires and transfers.”
He opened the folder and sat it on his lap, his eyes scanning the papers. “I’ll do my best.”
Sonny never gave himself enough credit. There were plenty of times he’d gotten Angelo or me out of a jam because of his ability to think and act on the fly. Like Angelo, Sonny never saw himself as anything more than a thug and a loyal foot soldier in the Morelli army. A humble servant of the man who owned everyone and everything in this damn city.
Following Sonny’s lead, I flipped through the folder, giving each one special care. Land transfer agreements were the most common documents I found, accompanied by the necessary banking transactions. My father sold most of the properties to Angelo Sr. for one hundred dollars, some of which were given to my soon-to-be father-in-law without much consideration. We were already building townhouses and an apartment building on three of the properties. Construction stopped once the sales were finalized.
Our company was falling apart, one favor at a time. Based on the ledgers hidden in my father’s office, Carlini Construction wouldn’t make it another year. We had too many Made men on our payroll. At one time, the Morellis guaranteed we would win the bids for high profile developments. Now, they were stealing them for themselves, even though they had no intention of following through.
Things worked differently in their world. When a mob-run company won a bid for a project, the money was split between the crews. Jobs over three million dollars were a windfall for the Philadelphia crime family. Everyone got a piece of the pie. The only time any of them came into the building was to hit on secretaries or collect their free paychecks.
The further I dug into the pile of folders, the angrier I became. I balled my hands into fists, grinding my teeth together. Angelo had a birthright, and he chose his path. My family’s company was mine, and I was so close to losing it. Not until I reached the last folder in the stack did I begin to see red.
Instead of a bunch of boring legal documents, I found photos of my mother’s murder, along with police reports and the life insurance policy my father collected on her behalf. She was worth ten million dollars. My entire body tensed, the muscles so taut I hadn’t realized I was squeezing the folder until Sonny spoke.
“You okay? Something bugging you, G?”
I glanced up from the paper, my lip curled up in anger. “My mom. She was worth ten million dollars.” He stared at me, confused, so I continued, “My dad used the money to pay for a piece of land that occupies the same area as Pitt Steel. And then he sold it Angelo Sr. through one of his shell companies.”
Sonny held out his hand. “Let me see.”
I gave him the folder, my anger shaking right through me. My body trembled from the fury that burned my skin. “Was my mother’s death an accident? For the longest time, I thought Enzo was responsible for murdering my mom. Especially after I was taken.”
“You think it was your dad? I don’t get it. Why would your dad kill your mom to pay off Mr. Morelli? The sale of the property was a few months after your mom died.”
Tears burned my eyes threatening to spill out. I had no idea how to respond. What was I supposed to think? My father had been distant after my mother’s death, but I’d assumed it was because he was mourning and wanted to grieve alone.
I covered my face with my hands and sighed. “Please tell me I’m completely off base and that this is all a coincidence. My dad has the same ring as one of the men who kidnapped me. The life insurance money he collected for my mom is the same amount he used to pay off a property tied to Pitt Steel. What’s next? Is he going to sell that company, too?” I lowered my hands to look at Sonny, a stray tear falling from my eye.
“Some things are better left in the past,” Sonny muttered. He said the same thing to me all the time, and yet it never registered with me. “I’m so sorry, Gia. If your dad was responsible, I could take care of it for you.”
Looking over at Faith, I let out the breath I was holding. “You mean?”
He nodded. “Unless you want to do it yourself.”
I shook my head.
Sonny was offering to kill my father for me. If anyone avenged my mother, it would be me. I was too hungry for the truth, desperate for knowledge. My curiosity had always gotten the best of me. I hated secrets, had to know what everyone was hiding from me.
In my father’s case, I would have been better off not knowing. He never thought much of allowing me into his office because I never snooped on him. My only parent was never a prime suspect in one of my many investigations, which was why I hadn’t looked for answers until the lies and secrets started to compound.
“Your dad was next to you and Angelo on the balcony at the fundraiser when it happened. I think you’re giving your dad more credit. He’s not like Angelo and me. I doubt he would know the first thing about making a car bomb.”