by Soraya Naomi
I enter the house feeling the sense of security my parental home has always given me and traipse behind my mother into the kitchen, which smells like freshly baked pastries.
She’s been cutting vegetables for a casserole because green peppers, carrots, and cauliflower are scattered on the kitchen island.
“Make some tea, sweetheart. I got you Earl Grey. You look pretty in those black jeans.” She picks up her knife and slices the carrots.
“Thanks, Mom.” I walk up behind her and hug her again, wondering whether I should take Sylvia’s advice and confide in my mother. “I’ve missed you.”
She pats my hands around her waist. “We always miss you too, sweetie.”
“Where’s Dad?” I’ve been avoiding my father since the hospital, and I’m sure he’ll want to talk to me privately. I’m positive my father’s going to pound me with questions about Collopy’s attack and my sudden connection to Wade.
“Cooped up in his office. Your father has a conference call with one of the senior lawyers at the firm. A big case, apparently.”
“How did you do it all these years with him working odd hours and even on the weekends? Didn’t it ever bother you?” I think back about how Luca’s business trips would annoy me at one point in our relationship.
Opening the oven, she takes out a tray filled with a batch of croissants that smell mouth-wateringly good.
“Well, sweetheart, it’s because of your father’s hard work that we could afford the life we’ve given you. That came with missing him sometimes while other husbands were at home, but I knew your father needed the challenge his work provided. And he knew I wanted to be a homemaker. Every relationship requires some compromise.”
“But compromise can be difficult.” I lean back against the island.
“When you love each other, the effort will be worth it.”
That’s probably true, but sometimes even the pull of a deep-seated love can’t overcome the biggest hurdles. If only love could fix all the problems in the world. If only my love for Luca would just go away because I’m terrified that I will miss him for the rest of my life.
Down the hall, I hear the door closing, and my father darkens the kitchen doorway.
“Hi, Dad.”
Wrapping one arm around my shoulder, he pulls me to him and places a kiss on my forehead when I close the distance between us.
“Sweetheart.” His eyes follow my mom busying herself. “Something smells good, Elise.”
“I made her favorite croissants with honey butter,” she answers without swiveling around.
He lowers his voice. “I want to talk to you alone. When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow night. I’m having lunch with a friend first. She’ll be here at noon.”
“I have to work tonight. You and I need to have a chat tomorrow after lunch.”
I nod, unsure if I’m going to reveal everything to my father tomorrow, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.
After devouring two croissants, my father disappears into his study again, and my mother and I settle around the kitchen table to finish our tea.
Worried lines crease her eyes. “Are you feeling better?”
No.
“Yes.” I don’t want to share the burden of my rape with my mom because seeing her concern hurts me. “It was just a scare, but I’m doing much better now.” I amaze myself at how good I’ve become at lying to people around me.
***
The next day, Cam shows up at exactly noon, and I drive us into town with my mom’s car.
The barista hands me two aromatic chai tea lattes, and I sit next to Camilla at the corner table of the busy coffee shop. We’re with our backs against the wall, facing the door.
Taking the lid off my cup, I scoop out the whipped milk because it’s delicious. “Where are you staying now?”
“I’m registered under another name at a hotel in the Loop.” Her eyes scan the place repeatedly.
“Do you think you were followed?”
Her shoulders pull up. “I don’t know. But it’s just a matter of time before they find me.”
“You have no idea what the Syndicate wants from you? Why not just talk to them? You worked for those guys for months, right?”
“Are you kidding me?!” The two ladies at the table next to ours jerk their heads to her, so she lowers her voice. “If it was just Adriano looking for me, I wouldn’t be suspicious, but it’s the Capo crimine; that can’t be good.”
“I guess not. Are you positive you can’t think of anything?”
She slashes a hand through the air. “Nothing about why they would want to talk to me.”
“Can’t you call Adriano?”
“Did you call Luca when you were in trouble?” she retorts.
“Point taken,” I comment dryly. “However, now I would call him. I didn’t contact him back then because anger and hurt clouded my judgment. Maybe Adriano can help you? Look, if I thought that Luca would answer my call, I would contact him for you, but we’re not on speaking terms. He was livid last time we spoke and told me point blank to never ask for his help.” I tug at the button on my jeans, and she chuckles.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“My jeans are just tight. I’ve been eating a lot of cake lately so I’ve gained a little weight.” I smile.
“Good, you were too thin anyway.” She returns my smile and downs a big gulp of tea before continuing, “I don’t know what to do. My money is running out. I need a job, but I’m a little scared to return to the Loop.”
I frown in confusion. “But why are you scared if you don’t even know the reason behind their search? I mean, you worked for them, and you and Adriano clearly have a history.” I’m missing something here.
Cam leans forward with her elbows resting on the table and drops her head in her hands.
“Cam, what are you not telling me?”
“Promise me you won’t tell Luca if you ever speak to him.”
“Yes, I promise.”
“I might’ve done something really stupid,” she mumbles with her eyes closed. “I might’ve planted a device at the house that night we escaped which caused a lot of damage to their headquarters.”
Touching her biceps, I silently demand her to look at me. “A bomb?”
“Not quite a bomb.”
“Did something explode?” I whisper in disbelief.
“Yes.”
“So a bomb.” I clench my jaw. “Why? And how did you even get a device like that? No wonder you’re on their shit list.” I accuse, yet her repentant gleam softens me.
“Ever heard of Club 7?” she asks.
“Yeah, the dance club.”
“It’s a bit a more than a dance club. It’s...”
“Tell me.”
“A sex club and a fight club.”
“Okay...so?”
“Well, I was associated with that club. I worked there, and I might’ve stolen an item from there. I needed to head back to Club 7 to talk to the only person who can help me, but the hostess is my friend, and she warned me that DeMiliano and Montesi had visited the club.”
“Montesi is Adriano’s surname?” I feel a pinch in the back of my throat because Luca’s visiting a sex club.
“Yes.”
“But again, why did you plant it? And where?”
“By the hedges on the side of the house. I can’t tell you everything right now, F—”
“Stop. If you can’t tell me, then I can’t help you at all,” I state.
I’m sick and tired of always being in the dark. I realize how frustrated Luca must’ve been all those months – I’m becoming irritated during just one conversation. He was actually very patient with me.
“It’s for your own safety.”
“I’ve heard that before,” I mutter, but I do believe her. “What do you need, Cam?”
“Money.”
I suck in my lower lip and decide to help her since I do have the money Luca gave me, and I could never live
with myself if anything happened to her because I refused to help her.
“Fine. I can give you a thousand, but use it smartly, and you have to stay in touch with me. How can we arrange that?”
“I’ll get us disposable phones,” she answers.
Of course, disposable mobiles. Unlocking my screen, I hand her my phone. “I’ll transfer the money tonight. Type in your account number—Wait! I shouldn’t transfer because then we’ll leave an electronic trail the Syndicate can easily trace.” So many aspects to consider if you want to lay low.
“Yeah, cash would be better. I’ll repay you, every cent, I promise.”
“Don’t worry about that. Give me your phone,” I say, and I program my therapist’s address. “Meet me at this address next Monday.”
She nods in agreement, and I hop off the chair.
“I can get you five hundred now. That should get you through the week at least. Let’s go to the ATM, and then I’ll drop you off at the train station.”
***
A wave of apprehension takes flight in my stomach when I step into the quiet house after returning from the station.
“Mom, Dad?” I hang my jacket and purse on the coat rack and head down the hall into my dad’s study. “Oh my god!”
I clamp my hand over my mouth as a shockwave of panic hits me, and I’m going to be sick.
CHAPTER 23
Luca
Headquarters is filled with soldiers and Capi as Adriano and I ascend the stairs to the strip club on the second floor.
Why is it so busy?
The cut on my upper arm is healing nicely after only one week, but it’ll leave a faint scar on my skin.
“What’s everyone doing here?” I ask Adriano as I open the door to the room we both haven’t been in much lately. I couldn’t stand being in this house, my private room, without Fallon, and I’m sure Adriano’s visits have decreased because he misses Cam.
“Apparently, James told the other Capi to come have fun for a night.”
Cocking my head, I reply, “When?”
James never gives out these kinds of orders to the Capi; he rarely speaks to the other Capi. Ordinarily, most communication lines go through me or Adriano.
Adriano shrugs, and we take a seat on the rounded burgundy sofa in the center. It’s never been so busy in here. Soldiers and members are everywhere, and I’m sure most of them don’t even know who I am.
Skye’s dancing to the soft music with a member at the bar but is staring at me. The soldier is groping her under that ridiculous short skirt she’s wearing, and she’s obviously displeased that she started it up with him. My guess is that she didn’t expect to see me. I laugh when she blatantly shoves him off and eagerly closes the distance between us.
“Great. Your fangirl is coming,” Adriano teases as an unknown woman plops down on his lap.
“You seem to have a new fangirl too?” Eyeing the Italian girl with short chestnut colored hair, I grin at him, and he smirks back. He knows exactly what I’m thinking. He’s just as sick as I am because she bears an uncanny resemblance to Cam.
“Shut up. I’m going to fuck her brains out while imagining it’s Cam’s sweet little ass.” He squeezes her ass, making her shriek in delight.
“How nice,” I counter mockingly and then realize I shouldn’t judge him because I’ll probably do the same with Skye. She’s a brunette, and I have a weakness for brunettes with long hair and amber eyes. A weakness for one in particular, but I push her out of my mind.
“Luca.” Skye joins me while Cam’s twin tugs Adriano to one of the private rooms. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Missed me?” I joke as she leans sideways and presses her breasts against me while I sit back.
“Want to have some fun?” she asks seductively.
Her hand slides up the inside of my thigh, and I grab it to cease her movement. “Not here.”
She twists her fingers in mine and guides me to the private room and onto the edge of the bed.
Without delay, she starts unbuttoning my pants, and I fall back on the mattress, gazing at the ceiling while an unidentified sensation – not pleasure – settles heavily on my soul.
“Hmmm, Luca—”
“Don’t talk,” I order.
Jesus fucking Christ! Can I not just enjoy this without thinking of her?
A heavy knock on the door has me sitting up and hurriedly pulling up my boxer briefs as Skye rises.
“Yeah.”
Adriano throws the door open with his phone in hand. “Sal summoned us. I thought you would want to go right away.”
After tucking in my dress shirt and adjusting my clothes, I rush out without saying anything to Skye.
“Did he mention anything about Ashton? Does he have him?” I ask Adriano.
“He’s not a man of many words.” Adriano shows me his screen with only come written in the text from Sal.
***
“Sal,” I greet as Adriano and I enter the familiar surroundings of his underground office, and he stands up to meet us midway while Santino shuts the door.
How can this guy work here? The absence of windows and this horrible artificial light feel suffocating every time I come here.
“Gentlemen, I just discovered I’m surrounded by incapable and untrustworthy people. One of the club members has been helping Banks when they were specifically instructed to inform me if Ashton contacted them.”
“Do you have him?”
“Ashton? No.” The line of Sal’s mouth flattens. “But when a member of my club purposely defies me, I typically don’t let them live. I’ve only held back for you.”
“So where’s that member? I need to talk to him before you end him.”
“You can talk to him, but then I want him back. Do not kill him.” He pins me with a determined gaze.
“My soldier can take him to our warehouse. Then after I’ve had a chat with him, you may do what you want with him there, and we will dispose of the body.” If I help Sal to this extent, he’ll be in my corner forever. This might be the start of a fruitful venture.
He perks a brow, and the corner of his mouth pulls up. “I knew I liked you for a good reason.”
We shake hands on our morbid agreement.
“Where is he? Here?” I ask.
“No, I haven’t imprisoned him yet. I’ll text you when I’ve captured him.”
“Good.” I nod, and we part.
***
On Tuesday afternoon, when I’m having lunch with Adriano at Francitalia, fate is playing a cruel joke on me. For a week and a half, I’ve cut all ties with Fallon, but that woman won’t leave my thoughts. To this day, she’s still the first person on my mind when I wake and the last person I think about before I fall asleep. She’s permanently engraved in my heart, relentlessly bleeding through my veins.
While I’m staring at the magnificent view of the Loop and enjoying the last bite of my fettuccine alfredo, my phone vibrates on the table with the name Fallon flashing across the screen.
Adriano stops mid-chew and narrows his eyes while pointing his steak knife at the device. “Do you still talk to her?”
Shaking my head, I deny, “Not since I found Wade at her apartment. This is the first time she’s called.”
“Don’t let her suck you back in,” he warns with the knife pointed at me now.
Curiosity is killing me, but Adriano is correct to warn me. Rubbing my fingers over my beard, I’m still tempted to press answer but let it go to voicemail instead.
“It’s ironic that she calls now, while we’re here, because this is where she and I had dinner for the first time together.”
Adriano laughs at me sympathetically. “Let it go. You two were finally breaking free from each other.”
“I didn’t answer, did I?” Waving the waitress over, I request the check.
***
By Tuesday night, Damian has dropped off Sal’s member at the warehouse.
Adriano’s rolling up his sleeve as I enter t
he first room on the right where our captive is already strung up, hanging restlessly with his wrists tied together and hooked on the bar that runs from wall to wall. Blood is dripping from his nose and his face, which is pressed between his upturned arms. He stills his useless struggling when he realizes he’s only exhausting himself. Completely out of breath, he struggles to open his eyelids, trying to follow my movement to the left side of the room.
I return his gaze as I speak to Adriano, “Did you start the party without me?”
Snorting, he removes the bronze cufflink from his other sleeve, letting it clatter on the wooden table, and pulls two white latex gloves on. “His screams were annoying, so I punched his nose on impulse. Look at my fine dress shirt splattered with blood,” he mocks while holding open his arms.
I strip my suit jacket and hang it off the back of the chair, covering Adriano’s jacket, and take my seat. Since Adriano’s already filthy with blood, he’ll handle this guy.
My phone chimes in, yet again, and confusion slashes my insides when Fallon calls for the fifth time today. She called four times at lunch, and now – again – after seven hours. I decide to call her back later and stash my phone back into my pocket.
Adriano tugs at the guy’s long black hair, yanking his head back and stretching his throat. “Stay with us, Gio.”
So his name is, obviously, Gio. Gio opens his mouth, but at first, nothing comes out. Then he sucks in his cheeks, and Adriano releases his head just in time to leap back, right before Gio attempts to spit on him.
“He’s got guts; you have to give him that.” Adriano points his thumb at him, and both corners of his mouth tilt up.
Rolling my hand, I order for him to continue quickly. Unease is starting to crawl over my skin about why Fallon suddenly wants to speak to me, and I feel the need to locate Ashton as soon as possible.
The table displays a crimper and a hammer we often use to torture captives, and a few knives are thrown in the old, corroded sink, but Adriano receives my hint and reaches for his piece. And I throw him the silencer, which was also lying on the table, to attach to the barrel of his weapon.
After screwing it on, he digs his fingers in Giovanni’s cheeks. “Open your eyes, asshole.”
When our captive doesn’t acknowledge him, Adriano drives the butt of his gun into his nose.
