Dipping Into Sin 2: Digging Deeper Into Sin

Jessica Watkins Presents

Dipping Into Sin 2

Dipping
Deeper
Into Sin

DJ Parker

Copyright © 2015 by Jessica
Watkins

E-books published by SBR
Publications

All
rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any
form. Without limiting the right under copyright reserved above, no part of
this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval
system, or transmitted, in any form by means (electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of
the copyright owner.

This
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events,
or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

This
book is dedicated to you…my readers.

Acknowledgment

First and foremost, thank you God
Almighty for the endless blessings that You continue to bestow upon me. Without
His guidance, this journey would have never been possible. Thank you, God, for
instilling this gift of writing inside of me.

To my darling husband, Charles, you
are my rock and my greatest motivator. Now I understand why people call us the
power couple. Together we make all things happen. Thank you for your endless
support and your undying love. Our love story is my favorite romance story of all
time.

To my mother, you embody the
meaning of being a strong independent woman. I love you more than life itself,
and I’m so grateful for all of the sacrifices that you made for us. There are
some things that only a mother can teach a daughter…I’m lucky to have been
fortunate. Though you may not hear it often, I’m proud of you. You returned
back to college to complete your degree after it was put hold, in order for you
to raise us as a single parent. You are beautiful inside and out, and I thank
God every day for having the best mother in the world.

To my sisters, Samiha, Lara, Kemi,
Tosin, and Ayis. I’m blessed to have five sisters, despite our troubling
journey to sisterhood. Our journey to sisterhood is an inspirational story,
which proves that the power of God is real. We survived being years apart from
each other; yet, this time apart did not hinder the love that we have for each
other. When I look at each of my sisters, I see a source of unadulterated
strength. Thank you, for being you.

To my brothers, Matthew and AK,
life would be so incomplete without both of you. Matthew, you’re my real life
superhero. We have an unbreakable bond that only,
we
, can understand.
Thank you for your continuous support and always coming to my rescue. AK, my
darling baby brother, you have bought joy and meaning into our lives. Although
I’m 19 years older than you, you have taught me the importance to lead by
example.

To my best friends, Miriam and
Stacy, I love you both with all my heart. Both of you have been a tremendous
support throughout my journey of writing. Miriam, thank you for always being my
“Day 1”. Thank you, sis, for always being true. Thank you for all of the
memorable experiences that we shared while growing up. You are the most
selfless and generous person that I know. I’m so proud of the woman you’ve
become today, and I pray that you continue to be successful in everything that
you do. Anandi is lucky to have a mother as strong as you. Stacy, you’re always
there to listen and laugh at the craziness in my life. Thank you for always
being truthful and supportive. 

To my beautiful goddaughter,
Anandi, continue to reach for your dreams. You are extremely intelligent, and I
know that you’re destined for greatness. Continue to be my sassy diva. I love
you always and forever. 

Thank you, Jessica N. Watkins for
granting me this opportunity to fulfill my lifelong dream. I will forever
remember the feeling that I felt when I became an official member of the JWP
crew. To my sisters and brother in scribe at JWP Publishing House, I thank you
all for the continuous support. I only aspire to be as good of a writer as all
of you are.

Last, but not least, I would like
to thank you…my readers. Since the release of my debut novel,
Dipping Into
Sin
, you all have been PATIENT, supportive, and encouraging. From
motivational comments to the critical feedback, I appreciate each and every one
of you.  

Chapter One

Present
Day

Bolting to my car, I popped the hood and
withdrew the duffle bag from my trunk. Once inside, I lit my cigarette and drew
in a deep pull. Trapping the smoke in my lungs, I allowed the menthol to invade
my chest cavity.
This motherfucker is really dead
, I thought as it
finally registered. After a few seconds, a musty cloud of smoke exited my
nostrils. The burning sensation was a complete contrast to the calmness that
soothed the electrical currents running through my body.

Digging into the duffle bag as the cigarette
hung between my lips, I unzipped the Ziploc baggie and withdrew the flip-phone.
Taking in another pull, I unclasped the back of the burner phone and inserted
the SIM card. Removing the cigarette from the grips of my lips, I rolled the
cigarette between my index and middle fingers, as I began my search for the
phone number on the folded piece of paper.

Tucking the cigarette between the confines
of my lips, I began patting my body down.
Fuck. Fuck. Where the hell did I
put it?
Pounding the palm of my hand against the side of my forehead, I
attempted to retrace my steps. Running my fingers through my hair, my eyes
roamed all over the car before stopping at the glove compartment. Tugging
viciously on the handle, I nearly ripped the handle off before discovering the
crumpled piece of paper.
Bingo!
Unraveling the crinkled paper, I began dialing
the number before bringing the phone to my ear.

Answering on the third ring, I gladly
announced, “It’s done.”

            Ending the call, I ejected the SIM card and broke
the phone into clumpy pieces before putting the contents back into the Ziploc baggie.
Looking over at the small blue and white cooler, a smile hugged my burning
cigarette as I envision my future. With narrow eyes, I zeroed in on the spec of
blood that must have splattered against it. Wiping away the remnants with the
back of my hand, I took one final glance back at the beautiful mansion that now
became the house of horror. My chest tightened with laughter as I peeled out of
the driveway. Shifting gears, I cut through the line of cars as I merged onto
the Staten Island Expressway. Zipping in and out of traffic, with a mission to
get back to Bensonhurst, I crossed over the Verazzono Bridge and entered
Brooklyn.

Entering the car garage, I dumped everything
into the black duffle bag before walking the short trek to the elevators. Once
inside my apartment, I took everything out of the duffle bag and aligned them
neatly on the table. Grabbing the technology disengagement device off of the
table, I walked over to my ottoman and stuffed it inside of the diversion safe.

 Walking back into the kitchen, I pulled the
drawer out and retrieved a large Ziploc baggie filled with the Natron mixture.
Sliding the cooler door open, I began dumping the pieces into the bag. Shaking
the contents in order to have an even coating, I allowed the oldest trick in
the book to start the preservation process. Rolling the baggie into a tight
ball, I placed it in a sock filled with batteries and hid it behind the box of
frozen waffles in the freezer.

Tossing my clothes slovenly across the room,
I turned on my main cell phone before walking into my bathroom. Allowing the
water to run until the whole bathroom created a steamy, misty fog. Everything
was finally coming together, and I was more than satisfied about the up and
coming weeks. Rubbing the palm of my hand down the misted mirror, I glanced at
the new head of the Balducci family.

Slipping into deep thought, I recalled the
moments leading to Andriano becoming the Don; his demeanor changed. But the
change only became worse once he became officially the head of the family. He
was making a mockery of our family by breaking away from what our legacy was
built on. We all went along with it because everyone feared the raft of
Andriano. But, everyone secretly wanted him dead. It was hard to hit a man who
lived in the dark. He was able to see through us, see our weakness and flaws
through our eyes. Stare at him long enough and one would begin to question
their own movements. Over the course of this reign, I learned to not to stare
too long. Hiding behind my compliance, I secretly plotted his demise.

 No one, not even myself, knew Andriano’s
weakness. Though he only lived by the code of La Cosa Nostra, Andriano remained
transfixed while we all continued to search for his weakness. Not even the
thought of losing power could cripple him to be normal like the rest of us.
Imagine my amusement when I thought that I discovered the golden answer to
solve all of our problems five years ago. The dark beauty was a morsel of
perfection, but in more of a wild sexual fantasy. More importantly, she was our
key to eradicating Andriano’s existence. She was completely oblivious with her
power over
him
. In a short time, she caused him to become undone, as
each layer of his demeanor was peeled away to expose
his
vulnerability.

Two days after he came back from killing the
former Don of the Vallenti crime family, Andriano exposed his weakness before
my eyes. As part of the marriage arrangement, Andriano had to take out the
enemy of the Capparelli’s to show loyalty. This exchange was designed to seal
the oaths between the Capparelli and the Balducci families. Essentially,
enemies of the Capparelli family were now enemies of the Balducci family.

            Seizing the moment to move up within the ranks by
proving that Andriano was not worthy to become the Don, I made it my destiny to
expose him. On the night of my discovery of their relationship, I saw the flutter
of passion that awakened in his eyes when he glanced her way.

            For months, he appeared to be distracted, almost
disinterested anytime we saw him. His head was so far up in the clouds that the
motherfucker did not know that we were watching him.
One of these days, I’m
going to get you,
I repeated to myself, each and every time that I saw him.
For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why the elder Balducci men wanted
Andriano to become the Don. The jerk-off was completely unmotivated to become
the head of the family. Judging by how long he decided to prolong his
engagement to Josephine, Andriano was clearly not eager to become the most
powerful man in the East Coast and Italy.

One night, I finally decided to track him as
he drove back to his loft in the city. Camping across the street, I watched Andriano
enter his building. After 30 minutes of waiting, I began to get antsy and felt
foolish for sitting in front of his building. As I turned the key to start the
ignition, I halted all movements the moment that I saw
her
walking down
Andriano’s block.

Shutting off the ignition, I looked at my
watch and waited for her next move. Almost instantaneously, the old doorman
walked out and lured Simone into the building. So I sat and waited. I continued
to wait even when the sun introduced the moon to us. I even turned down Russian
pussy, just waiting for their next move. Suddenly, after a few hours of
waiting, they appeared together, walking towards the black truck parked in
front of his building. Following them to what appeared to be her dormitory
campus, I pulled out my camera and captured the first of many pictures of
Andriano kissing Simone.

            “
I got you,
motherfucker,” I announced as I slipped my phone into my pocket. Laughing, I
sped off into the night with a plan formulating in my head.  

For weeks, I secretly followed Andriano and
Simone to some of the most furtive places. But Andriano was smart…or so he
thought. They spent most of their time together at his loft. Sometimes they
would spend the entire weekend cooped up in his loft. By the third month of
playing P.I., I knew that I had to figure out another way to track Andriano’s
movements. One night as I watched Andriano and Simone step into the truck, my
eyes zeroed in on his driver, Terry McNeil.

Within two weeks, I gathered information
about his wife and children. From their names to their routines, I knew it all.
By the time I confronted Terry, I had pictures of his wife and even a picture
of me standing by his children’s elementary school. If you want to see a man
come to his knees, just show him how close another man could get to his family.

“Terry McNeil,” I called out to him the
moment I crossed the street.

“Who wants to know?” he asked with his thick
Bronx accent. Walking slowly towards him, I shoved my hand into my pocket and
pulled out my cell phone.

“A business man, who has no problem making
this personal,” I stated with noticeable irritation.

Pulling out my cell phone, I flipped the
screen over to face him as he watched a short video of his children and me
saying hi to him outside of their school.

 “You son of a bitch—”

“Yes, I am the son-of-a-bitch who will snap
your kids’ necks without thinking twice,” I remarked, cutting him off.

“What do you want?” he asked, with
desperation at the tip of his tongue.

“I need you to tell me the whereabouts of
Andriano and Simone. Where they go, where they fuck, how long they’re together,
the whole 9-yards. You’ll need to take pictures too,” I began, as I pulled out
a burner phone. “Expect a phone call every Sunday,” I said, as I handed him the
burner phone before turning to walk away.  

“Oh…and-uh, just so you,” I turned back to
face him, as I remembered the key to sealing this deal. “Take a good look at
how close
I really
am to your family,” I commented, as I showed him a
video of the interior of his house. I broke into his house a few weeks ago and
took pictures of each of their bedrooms. The police are still struggling to
find the motive for the break-in since everything remained intact, except for
the smashed back door window.

And that’s how you get a man to kneel
before you. 

Terry was extremely cooperative and answered
all of my phone calls. Satisfied with his findings, I compiled a perfect
package to use as my leverage over Andriano’s head. Judging from the pictures,
Andriano seemed smitten over Simone. He looked completely enthralled by her in
every shape and form. When I finally used my leverage, I sat back and watched
everything unfold before my eyes.

Surely, my plan backfired when Andriano
proved that Simone was not enough of a reason to walk away. I mean he
practically proved that she was not his weakness when he let her go five years
ago and claimed his throne.
If Simone was not his weakness, then what is?
 

~****~

Andriano

3
months earlier

            Looking down at the old file that I received from
Lucas five years earlier, I pulled out the only picture that I had left of
Simone. Somehow, this picture and even the thought of her brought solace to my
depredated world.  

Memories of her was nothing compared to the
woman who stood before me at the wake. Her body matured flawlessly, outlining
her more pronounced womanly curves. Even after all these years, Simone still
has the softest skin. The velvety deepness in her complexion had a warm golden
hue that made my mouth water with an appetite for her. Her brimming golden
brown eyes held flecks of amber that resembled the first day of autumn’s gusty
colorful leaves. Everything about her caused every part of my body to ache with
need. As I tried to recall the last time a woman had stirred me to no control,
Simone’s face appeared like a flashing sign. As much as I tried to part ways
with my feelings for
her
, I just couldn’t. Seeing her at Donald Spillmore’s
wake confirmed the fact…I’m still in love with my
bella mia.

Fuming at the very thought of Victoria
remaining in contact with Simone, I balled my hand into a fist and pounded on
my desk, causing pieces of wood chips to dust the floor. Each time I saw
Victoria in passing, I secretly hoped that she would talk about Simone. But,
she never budged. Judging by the way Simone held Victoria’s hand during the
wake, it was obvious that they remained close throughout the years.

“Bella mia,” I said out loud in my empty
office. A throaty chuckle escaped from the shallow pit in my stomach, as I
reflected on the memory of our love. Her presence in my life was like a form of
scarification branding to one’s skin…it lasts a lifetime.

When my father died, and I became the Don, I
embraced the power that I was afforded. Shifting the balance of power, with the
Balducci’s dominating more than 70% of the syndicate, I knew that I could
afford
her
the proper safety that she needed.

            A round of knocks
started at the door, and I groaned.

            “Come in,” I said with agitation set in my tone.

“Mr. Balducci, there is a man out here who claims
that he has an appointment with you. But, I checked the calendar. You don’t
have any meetings scheduled for this afternoon. He told me that you’ll
understand…9,067,” said Kevin, my assistant.

           
Well of course. Only Lucas will give a number
instead of his name.
“Send him in,” I responded as I looked up from the
file in front of me. 9,067 are the number of files and Intel that Lucas
provided since being contracted to work for Nicolai and me. I appreciated his
level of discretion, as well as, the uniquely substituted names that he used to
further conceal his identity.

             Entering my office, Lucas casually walked in
holding a black briefcase. The black sunglasses that framed his face hid the
deathly sight of his sullen brown eyes. In our line of business, Lucas lurked
in and out of the shadows seamlessly with no face and no name. Standing up, I
shook his hand and sat back down in my executive leather chair.

            “What do you have for me?” I asked, getting
straight to the point.