Corrupt Me Read online

  Christmas Eve dinner, the culmination of my mother’s hard work over the past week, slaving over a hot stove, was a preview for tomorrow night. Our entire family, close friends, and my father’s business associates and their families never missed Ma’s famous Christmas dinner. Everyone would come to pay respects to the don, but it didn’t hurt that Ma was a fantastic chef.

  Lucky to cook macaroni and cheese without burning it, Izzie spent most of the day in the kitchen with Ma, learning how to cook.

  I sat on a stool and watched the only women I’d ever loved prepare a feast fit for an army. Izzie leaned over a stockpot, smiling at me, as she stirred herbs into the gravy. She insisted I let her cook, but I had to add a few missed ingredients when she wasn’t looking.

  One day, I’d make this woman my wife, if I made it out of this mess alive. Prison wasn’t for the faint of heart. My father would make sure I had connections on the inside, but I was scared to death. I didn’t want Izzie to know about my doubts.

  I cut a slice of bread from the loaf on the counter and reached around Izzie to dip it in the pot. She opened her mouth, taking a bite, as I slipped my hand on her waist.

  Izzie gave me a quick peck on the cheek and stepped away from the stove. She lifted a loaf of cut bread and put it on a wooden board. Ma turned around to face the counter, sliding a lasagna dish in front of Izzie. They muttered a few words to each other, Ma patting Izzie on the back and Izzie lovingly touching her hand. At least my family would take care of Izzie while I was away.

  Once my girls had assembled dinner, everyone took their seats around the table, my father at one end and Ma at the other. My father insisted Izzie sit next to him, which secured me a place next to her. Somehow, my relationship with Izzie had made my father less hostile toward me. My brothers sat opposite Izzie and me, followed by Enzo along with his wife, Carmela, and EJ on my left.

  Ma’s friend Angelina, her husband, and their grown children sat near Aunt Concetta. Marco, the chef at Francesca’s Brick Oven Pizza, sat next to Aunt Concetta and three of my cousins. Various business associates were scattered throughout, but we were mostly in the presence of family.

  Midway through dinner, Izzie looked distracted, staring down at her cell phone as it kept buzzing next to her plate. My father had a no electronic devices rule at the dinner table, but Izzie was waiting to hear back form Rob Greenberg about her Grandfather’s legal case, and when it came to Angelo Rinaldi, my father always made an exception.

  My father looked at Izzie, concerned. “Everything okay, Isabella?”

  She set her fork on her plate next to an untouched helping of pasta. “No, Mr. Marchese, I don’t think so.” Her eyes drifted down to her phone again, fear registering on her face.

  I leaned over and saw that the caller ID said Rinaldi Manor.

  “Answer your phone, babe,” I said.

  My father nodded his approval.

  She slid her finger along the screen and held it to her ear. Before she could say hello, a woman on the other end screamed into the receiver, frantic.

  “Domenica, slow down. What happened to Nonno?” Izzie pushed her chair out from the table, the legs sliding loudly across the tiled floor and drawing the attention of those at the table. She was about to walk away and stopped. “It’s going to be okay. Domenica, stop crying. I’ll send a car for you.”

  Then, I heard a man’s voice, a loud deep rumble.

  “Rob, oh thank God.” She let out a deep breath. “Did they raid the office? Yes, I’m well aware of its existence.” She nodded, holding on to the back of my chair for support, her face turned toward the wall. “It’s in a safe place. When can I see him?”

  Her conversation went on for another five minutes, her voice softening as she spoke to her Grandfather’s attorney, Rob Greenberg. I noted the grip she had on my chair, the wood practically crumbling beneath her fingers.

  The tone of the conversation shifted.

  All of a sudden, her voice filled with tears. “No!” she said so loud that it sounded as if she’d screamed. “They can’t.” Izzie looked down at me and squeezed my shoulder. “Okay. I understand. Thanks, Rob. Keep me updated.”

  Izzie leaned against the wall, her cell phone clutched between her fingers. I glanced around the room. Everyone was watching Izzie, waiting to find out what had gotten her so upset.

  “Luca,” she said as she choked back her tears, “I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything. I’m so sorry.”

  “C’mere, babe.” I took her by the hand and positioned her on my lap. “What happened? Talk to me.”

  “They arrested Grandfather. Domenica is hysterical, and they’re…” She sniffed.

  Before she could answer, the doorbell rang through the house, sending a jolt of fear through me. The sound of feet shuffling along the tiled floor grew closer as they made their way down the hallway and into the formal dining room.

  My father stood first, followed by Frank, my father’s consigliere, and Enzo, his closest friend and capo.

  A group of men dressed in blue windbreaker jackets that read FBI in yellow writing stared us down from the head of the table, right behind Ma.

  “What can I do for you gentlemen?” my father asked.

  “I have an arrest warrant for Luciano Salvatore Marchese.”

  From previous visits, I recognized the tall middle-aged man with blond hair.

  He started walking toward me. “Miss Rinaldi, would you mind stepping out of the way?”

  She refused to move from my lap, so I slid my chair out from the table and set Izzie on her feet. She threw her hand out in front of me, shielding me from Agent Marx.

  “You had your chance, Miss Rinaldi. Now, please move out of the way before I have you removed.” He motioned his fingers toward the men at the end of the table, gesturing for them to come forward.

  “Babe, I’ll be fine,” I whispered in her ear. “I’ll be home by tomorrow. Frank will take care of everything. Don’t worry, okay?”

  She turned around, gripping my shirt in her hands, and softly kissed me on the lips. “I love you,” she breathed against my mouth. “I expect you home for Christmas dinner.”

  “I love you, too.” I kissed her cheek. Her grip loosened on me as Agent Marx tugged on my shoulder. I leaned in once more and squeezed her hand. “You’re my don, Izzie. You’re much stronger than you think.”

  She flashed a broad smile and then kissed me on the lips before Agent Marx pulled my arms behind my back. He didn’t handcuff me in front of everyone. He waited until we were in the hallway. Izzie and Ma followed behind me, holding on to each other, both of them crying, as two FBI agents led me outside into the cold air.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  IZZIE

  Grandfather had shown me the ledgers, one of which had names, numbers, and other cryptic information pertaining to people the Marchese family had either murdered, threatened, or extorted to help Rinaldi Holdings secure bids, permits, companies, or whatever we needed to make a deal. Among those on the list were Conrad Lockwood, Savvy’s father, and heir to Sentry Publications, a multimillion-dollar media company.

  The Marchese family was responsible for Savvy’s family losing their fortune to my company. We’d bought the majority shares of Sentry Publications and secured the necessary board seats three months before Luca and I’d met. Technically broke, Savvy’s plan to split Luca and me apart was nothing more than revenge. She still pretended to have money. It only made things worse that she had a crush on Luca.

  After a few inquiries with our private security team, I found out Penny had accessed the files with her employee keycard. I’d handed the mole within my company an internship and the ammunition to give my enemy everything she needed. But all the files proved was that we’d bought a company together, something the FBI and SEC were well aware of. Even if the papers got ahold of the news, it wouldn’t make a difference.

  As I stood in the hallway with Luca’s mother, her body trembled as I held her against my chest. We were a sobbing mess, t
oo upset to deal with the FBI ruining our Christmas Eve dinner, all because I hadn’t turned over the ledger. I could use the other ledger Grandfather had handed me, the one that would grant both Luca and him their freedom, but extorting the director of the FBI was out of my realm of expertise. I had no idea how to get to someone of that magnitude.

  Out of respect for the don and his family, their guests stayed until after dessert. I couldn’t eat after watching the FBI escort Luca from the house in handcuffs. After Luca’s brothers left, I requested a private meeting with Luca’s father, accompanied by Mr. Catalano. His consigliere never left his side, a role I had assumed Luca would fill once he finished law school. But, now, his future was looking as bleak as our relationship.

  Escorted into a large office in the basement, seated in front of an oak desk next to Mr. Catalano, I cowered under the don’s gaze. He sat behind the desk, his hands folded on top of it, with a look of death and fear in his eyes. Luca’s father was frightening, even more so than Grandfather.

  Leaning back in his leather chair, the tension ebbed away once his scowl turned into some semblance of a smile. From what I’d heard, I knew not to speak unless spoken to. I didn’t even breathe until he broke the silence.

  “I understand you’re in possession of the ledger.” His deep voice sounded louder in the quiet wood-paneled room. Even the floor and ceiling were made of refinished hardwood.

  “Grandfather gave both of them to me a few days ago. The ledger has information on the director of the FBI…” I wasn’t sure how to phrase my question without implying what the Marcheses did for a living, not that my family was any better.

  “And you need it taken care of,” Mr. Catalano interjected.

  I nodded.

  Mr. Catalano loosened his black pin-striped tie and tugged on his collar. “I will need to see the ledger. We can proceed from there. But you need to understand what you’re dealing with. Men like Director Scott are not easy to persuade.” He cleared his throat, staring at the don with a look of curiosity. “Right. Well, I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Isabella,” Don Marchese said softly, but his voice still startled me. He had an alarming effect on those around him. “You’re the head of your family now, and from one boss to another, I must warn you. What you are asking of my family is a favor, one that requires another favor to be returned. Do you understand?”

  “But he’s your son—”

  He held out his hand to silence me. “Luca knew what he was doing. I ordered him to stop his foolish rackets, told him he would get caught, but he didn’t listen to me. He dug his grave, and now, he must lie in it.”

  I sighed, my body so tense that I felt as though I would snap in half. “What will his freedom cost me? If it’s money you want, that’s not an issue.”

  “You misunderstand how we do business. The ledger is not an accounts payable record. Your grandfather has been very helpful with some of our more legitimate businesses. And, with your expertise in real estate acquisitions, one day, you will be more valuable to me than Angelo. The Pennsport deal is only the start of our business relationship. I’m sure you’ve seen by now how much your grandfather is indebted to my family.”

  I had seen with my own eyes how much we owed them. My grandfather might as well have handed his soul over to the devil and signed the contract in blood. The ledger went back to the early 1980s, and the Philadelphia crime family had taken their time in asking for favors. They staggered their requests, but in recent years, the amount of business deals Grandfather had entered into at the don’s behest was only growing.

  “I understand how this works. I might be young, but Grandfather has been training me since I was a child.” I sat up straight, more confident. “Like you said, I’m the head of my family now. And I make the decisions. I’m not going to excuse Luca for what he did, but he needs to have a future. He would make a good attorney. That’s what his mother wants for him, and it’s what I want for him. I don’t think he’s as cut out for this life as he thinks.”

  Don Marchese folded his arms over his chest as a knowing look was fired off in Mr. Catalano’s direction. “I’m inclined to agree with you, Isabella. My son is molto stupido.”

  I didn’t see the need to debate the issue when we both agreed. A few moments of uncomfortable silence ensued before he removed a slip of paper from the top drawer of his desk. He slid the paper in my direction, shutting the drawer with his other hand. His behavior disturbed me.

  Everything about the don, from the creepy aura that surrounded him to the intimidating look in his eyes, made my stomach churn. Acid rose up the back of my throat, the taste of bile sickening me.

  Before I lifted the paper, I looked up at him, deciding to act on my moment of bravery. “There’s one more thing you should know. I’m willing to bet it’s worth more than what’s on this paper.”

  He motioned his hand, gesturing for me to speak.

  I continued, “I spoke to Rob Greenberg after my grandfather’s arrest, and he knows of the identity of the FBI’s confidential informant. It’s someone on the inside of your family.” I leaned forward, staring down the scariest man I’d ever encountered. “What is that information worth to you?”

  I felt bold all of a sudden, speaking to a man who could kill me with one hand like he owed me something. But I couldn’t stand the thought of spending years apart from Luca, and his father didn’t seem to care enough to help unless I offered something in return.

  “That information is worth a great deal.” He tugged at the paper beneath my fingers and crumbled it into a ball.

  “It’s Enzo’s son, EJ. He owed Luca a lot of money, and things went south between them. When the local PD arrested him for felony drug possession, the FBI found out, and EJ agreed to rat on Luca in exchange for a get-out-of-jail-free card. He also owes the Irish a lot of money.”

  The don looked to his consigliere for counsel. Then, his simple nod in Mr. Catalano’s direction made my skin crawl, and my body tremble.

  What did I just do?

  Mr. Catalano rose to his feet, holding out his hand to me. “Isabella, let me help you up to your bedroom.”

  I thanked the don for his help even though I wasn’t sure what I was thanking him for, and I followed Mr. Catalano through the wine cellar and up to the guest bedroom. We didn’t speak a word of our conversation, and I knew the don only spoke business in his office. Luca’s father was a smart man. He never said or did anything the Feds could hear over a wire.

  Did I just sign EJ’s death warrant?

  The thought made me sick to my stomach.

  But Luca’s freedom was worth more to me than the life of a junkie. As cold and hard as that sounded, it was true. I was no longer the girl I’d once been when I started my senior year of college. I was a criminal, no better than the made men I ate dinner with. And, now, I was the head of my own family.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  LUCA

  I was arrested on Christmas Eve, and the courts weren’t open on Christmas. I spent forty-eight hours waiting for a district judge to grant me bail, missing my first holiday with Izzie.

  Our attorney and my father’s consigliere, Frank, posted my bail and drove me back to my parents’ house. We didn’t speak for most of the ride, not until the wrought iron gates opened and we parked in front of the house.

  Two men approached the car, and Frank held his hand out to stop them.

  “That’s one hell of a girl you got yourself, kid.” He grinned. “Not many women would do what she did for you.”

  Frank’s words took me by surprise.

  “What did she do?”

  “We made a trade—a life for a life.” He shrugged, as if it were nothing. “This is business.”

  Fear crept up inside me, replaced by guilt for what I’d done in the first place. “Whose life did she trade for mine?”

  “It’s nothing we wouldn’t have found out on our own. Isabella made it easier for us to take care of the problem.”<
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  “Don’t speak in code with me, Frank. If you don’t tell me, Izzie will, so just spit it out already. What problem did you take care of?”

  Frank explained EJ’s arrest for felony drug possession and his deal with the FBI. I had known he was using, but I had no idea about his arrest. My childhood friend had sold me out. How fucking convenient. He was the one person I’d never thought would be a rat, not when his father was a capo and my father’s best friend.

  “Junkies overdose all the time.” Frank turned to his left, staring out the window at the fountain in the center of our driveway. Without looking at me, he reached over and patted me on the shoulder. Then, he opened his door. “C’mon, let’s get inside. Your mother is probably sitting in the foyer, waiting for you. She’s been a nervous wreck.”

  I never meant for Izzie to get involved with my rackets, and I hadn’t expected her to get me off the hook. She wasn’t a criminal or a murderer like my father. He’d made his bones a long time ago, paid debts to get to where he was, but Izzie wasn’t like him.

  Or was she? Maybe that killer instinct was always there, and I was too busy getting in her pants to notice.

  When I walked through the front door, I still had ink on my fingers from when the FBI had printed me. Desperate for a shower, I wanted nothing more than to strip down and let the mist wash over me until my skin pruned. Being detained wasn’t as bad as I’d expected, but I sure as hell wasn’t cut out for a long-term stay.

  The house smelled of spices and homemade cookies, a delicious scent that made my stomach growl. Whatever mystery food they’d fed me while I was locked up wasn’t enough to satisfy the craving I had for Ma’s cooking. Of all the dinners to miss, it’d had to be Christmas.

  “I’m home!” I yelled, my voice echoing off the high ceiling of the Italian villa-style home.

  Ma stepped into the hallway, dressed in her favorite red apron, with a big smile on her face. I heard the sound of feet slamming against the floor upstairs, followed by Izzie flying down the spiral staircase to greet me. She beat Ma to the door and lunged herself at me, wrapping her legs around my waist, hugging me like a koala.