For Luca
(Chicago Syndicate, #2)
By Soraya Naomi
For Luca
Copyright © 2014 by Soraya Naomi
Published by Soraya Naomi
First digital edition published by Soraya Naomi. Book 2 of Chicago Syndicate series.
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Top Cover Photo credit: Captblack76 | Dreamstime.com - Portrait of a Handsome Spy Photo
Bottom Cover Photo credit: David Niblack.
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“Woman is sacred; the woman one loves is holy.” ~ Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo.
PROLOGUE
Pitch black. Darkness.
This isn’t happening.
Hunched like a ball with my knees pulled up, I’m stuck in this scant place, crammed in here with the lid pressed against my back. Sweat seeps along the contours of my face as I try to turn my head slightly. I dig my teeth into my knees to keep from making a sound, but my own heavy, trembling breaths are deafening, feeding my fear.
Oh my god. NO! Stop!
The blaring pain in my back is surpassed by the unbearable anguish I experience from hearing the constant blows and an incensed male voice. I shut my eyes tightly, and tears mingle with cold sweat as panic gnaws at my insides.
This isn’t real.
I hear Luca coughing and grunting in pain, and I can almost sense his suffering burning through my body while I have to listen to him being beaten, over and over again.
“You have to get in there and stay! Understand?” Luca begs and takes my face in both hands.
The tremor and panic in his tone increase my own anxiety. “No! What are you going to do?” I cry and clutch his dress shirt in a death grip.
“Fallon, goddammit. I can’t afford to worry about you too right now. I have to know that you’re safe. You have to promise me you won’t come out. You have got to fucking listen to me.”
Through the darkness, I can barely see his eyes, so I inch even closer, our noses are almost touching. As much as he’s tried to give me hope, I can hear in his despondent tone that there isn’t a way out for both of us. I nod my head up and down in disbelief of our current situation. We hug each other tightly, and Luca presses his lips to my forehead harshly.
He pulls back, cradling my face again and wiping away my tears with his thumbs. “Get in.”
Someone’s yelling, and I want to help Luca, but I’m afraid to leave this space, so I honor the last promise I made to the man I love while the life is being beaten out of him.
After what feels like hours, but is probably mere minutes, of shouting and fighting, the sudden stillness thunders my fear to unmeasurable heights.
CHAPTER 1
Luca
“Did you talk to her?” Adriano asks as we descend the stairs to the front door of the Syndicate’s headquarters.
“Not since Thursday.” I’m tired as hell and want to go home without any business interrupting my quiet time. I haven’t spoken to Fallon or seen her in two days. Two days that have crawled by agonizingly slowly.
Following our former hacker, Danny Mancuso’s ex-girlfriend, Fallon Michaels, seven months ago led to me fall in love with her. We seemed to have it all for a few blissful months, except in those months, I never disclosed that I was the underboss of the Chicago Syndicate, which rules the drug traffic in Chicago’s underworld with James as my Capo crimine – the boss, who’s the only one ranked above me – and Adriano as my Capo – a captain who’s ranked immediately below me and works as my back-up, which makes Adriano officially more important and valuable than the other two Capi of the Chicago Syndicate.
At that critical moment when I thought I had to reveal everything to her because she caught me in my lies and became increasingly suspicious, she was kidnapped by one of my soldiers and taken to the house – our headquarters – that Adriano and I are now exiting. For six distressing days, I watched and lived out the destruction of our relationship while I worked to help her, and she fought me every step of the way.
However, she lied as well; her boss, Alex, blackmailed her into obtaining incriminating information on me, yet she never told me. I also discovered that she knew for three weeks that I was part of the Syndicate, another thing she hid from me, and she never confided in me when she was in trouble. Fortunately, she didn’t help Alex because she never got the chance. Alex conveniently died of a heroin overdose because no one interferes with my life.
Ultimately, one fateful night wrecked our already splintered love, and now the pieces of two broken people remain. Well, I am broken; I can only guess how she’s doing because she’s been ignoring me since I took her home last Thursday.
Adriano and I went to the garage this afternoon to make sure Damian’s and my car were fixed properly – no trace of the damage Camilla and Fallon caused when they tried to escape the house last Wednesday – and then we drove my car and Damian’s BMW back to our headquarters. After Damian picked up his car, I retrieved a few items from my private room.
“What are you doing tonight?” Adriano probes when I open the front door and greet the guard with a discreet chin lift before walking to my Maserati in the driveway.
“I’m going home, and I was hoping you could cover for me if any urgent business comes up. I’m forwarding my calls to you.”
“Fine. Get some rest—”
A loud blast from behind jolts us forward. Heat spreads across my back and I’m propelled through the air and land harshly as my shoulders connect with the gravel driveway and the back of my head bangs against the ground. For a moment, everything shuts down – my vision goes black and it’s still, until I feel masses of debris falling on top of me, prompting me to quickly roll over and cover my head with my arms.
“Adriano?!” I shout while smoke surrounds me, making me cough, and a few more pieces of wreckage fall on my legs.
He doesn’t answer, and I don’t see him as the smoke begins to fade. That worries me since he was right behind me when something inside that house detonated. As I sit up slowly, my eyes widen when I see that the right side of the house has been blown up, and the living room is missing an entire outer wall. I look toward the perimeter for any unusual movement, and as I turn my head, I spot Adriano lying face down in the gravel near my car.
Fuck! He was thrown much farther than I was.
I try to get up quick
ly, which isn’t easy with every muscle in my body hurting like hell, and run to him. Flipping him over, I bring my ear close to his nose to make sure he’s breathing. Thankfully, he is! But he’s knocked out cold, and a nasty cut on his head is bleeding profusely. My blood is also dripping on him. The stitches in my ear – from Thursday’s shooting in the Parish of the Blessed – must have broken. Looks like we both need medical attention.
Fishing out my phone from my pocket, I call James. “We’re compromised. I need you and the doctor at the house. Now.”
“Capito.” Understood. “On my way,” James confirms.
The doctor arrives within twenty minutes, and we haul Adriano inside the house. He stirs and wakes up just as I brush debris off the couch, and we lay him down.
He blinks and grimaces when he tries to sit up straight. “The fuck happened?”
“Lie down.” The doctor guides him back down on the couch. “Let me check your head injury.”
Adriano’s eyes shoot to mine. “Are you okay?”
I nod and walk over to where the hole has been blasted in the wall. The enormous gape in the dirty ground right by the hedge looks to be where the bomb was planted. Assessing the damage, I’m saddened to find one of our organization’s prospects’ lifeless body. I jump through the open space and stride to his remains. His body is twisted in an awkward position, and his eyes are still hauntingly open, so I crouch before him and close his eyelids before returning inside the house.
“He probably has a mild concussion, and I need to stitch his cut. Yours too.” Doc signals to my ear.
“We need to get out of this house first because I don’t know if any more devices have been planted or what part of the foundation might be damaged. Adriano, can you walk?”
Adriano stands and sways slightly, but the doctor and I steady him on each side, and we move to my car as quickly as possible.
“Get in the front. We leave immediately.” I help Adriano slide into his seat. “Follow me, Doc.”
***
That evening James and Salvatore – my Consigliere, the Syndicate’s counselor and lawyer – meet Adriano and me at my penthouse where the doctor has stitched us up and provided us with some pain medicine.
As we stand around my black granite-top kitchen island, I look at their weary faces.
James inquires, “Any ideas who did this?”
While twisting his golden lighter between his fingers, Adriano answers, “Leggia maybe? We should check with Biagio,”
“I’ll set up a meet with Biagio,” Salvatore offers while sliding onto the barstool.
James looks me in the eye. “I don’t like this. This is the first time our headquarters has been targeted. It could’ve been Leggia’s doing, but I have my doubts.”
“So do I,” I agree.
“I want you two to get some rest for a couple of days,” James orders and points to Adriano and me. “And we don’t meet in public for a couple of weeks.”
We nod in agreement and part. Everyone back to their own life. James will be welcomed by his wife, Alessa. Salvatore’s Julia waits for him. Adriano will be happy with a random hook-up. And I’m alone. Without her.
As much as I want to, I can’t resist to reach out, so I text and call her a few times during the weekend, but not one word from Fallon.
CHAPTER 2
Fallon
It's funny how in an entire lifetime, there are a few moments that define your way of thinking. And how just one week can alter the entire course of a life is astonishingly sad. Those six days of constantly worrying what would happen to me had a profound impact on my reasoning skills. Those few days changed my way of thinking because every second of the day, I was occupied with keeping the fear at bay and my mind clear. It changed my life, and it changed the course of my life with it.
All I’ve done is try to sleep, and it works for several hours, but as soon as I wake, I’m back to being confronted with my reality. And my reality is that – even though I hate to admit it – I miss him. I miss his arms comforting me, holding me. So many times over the weekend I’ve almost succumbed to calling Luca back, but I couldn’t. The hurt over how for months he lied about his Mafia life, which eventually led to me being held captive at the Syndicate’s headquarters for six days, is something I can’t forget.
Monday morning, I’m standing before my door, absolutely not ready to face the world, but I must go to work. Inhaling an encouraging breath, I push down the lever.
When I get outside, a rush of warm summer wind blows through my skirt. I’m wearing a floor-length summer dress with a linen jacket to help cover the cuts and bruises that are still healing on my arms and knees, and while the bruises on my face have faded and the slight discoloration that remains has been covered with foundation, I take my aviator sunglasses from my purse and put them on because I feel more confident hiding behind them. During the hurried fifteen-minute walk to work, I have the distinct feeling that someone is following me. I look around, expecting to be met with Luca’s green eyes, but everyone walks past me on the crowded sidewalk, and I don’t see anything unusual.
When I reach my building, I go through the revolving doors toward the elevators and smile at a few acquaintances.
As the elevator doors open on the floor to my office, I’m met with my colleagues and a lot of people I don’t recognize gathered in the middle of the space. I immediately make my way to Jason – who’s leaning against his desk on the right – while taking my bag off my shoulder and holding it in my grasp, just to have something in my hands.
“Morning, feeling better?” he questions softly as I stand beside him.
Jason believes I was sick at home last week. I haven’t told anyone about the kidnapping. “A little. What’s going on?” I motion to the crowd in the middle of the room just as a man in a tailored charcoal suit steps in front of us.
“I think they’re going to explain what will happen now, after Alex’s death,” he whispers, right before we move our attention to the man who’s about to speak.
“Good morning, everyone. I’m Alex’s stepbrother, Ashton Banks. Thank you all for coming to work. It’s been a shock for our family to learn about Alex’s death, and before I continue, I would like to remind all the employees about your non-disclosure agreement in your contract which prohibits you from speaking or leaking any company information to the media,” he states in a businesslike tone.
I fleetingly look around and see that everyone is riveted to find out where he’s going with this. Jason grimaces slightly at me, thinking more bad news is to follow.
Ashton continues, “Unfortunately, Alex’s death means the end of Charity Events.” People start to murmur instantly, but Ashton raises his voice. “Severance packages have been set up according to your contracts. We will also offer you outplacement assistance to help you find a new job. My human resource manager, Chantal Greene, will assist you and has made appointments with each of you this morning. You can direct all of your questions to her. Furthermore, Detective Richard Wade would like to talk to several of you. Thank you for your cooperation, and please let Chantal know if you plan to attend the funeral on Wednesday as she can provide the address.” He steps aside to receive condolences.
I notice several police officers standing outside the door of Alex’s office, including the detective who I was supposed to call for an appointment at the precinct today. Our eyes meet, and he holds my gaze for an uncomfortable moment. Detective Wade came to my house last Saturday with the news that Alex had left a note in his safe with a message about me scribbled on it. My first thought was the Syndicate. I’m positive Luca killed Alex after I revealed Alex’s blackmail scheme to him, but did Alex write that note or did Luca? I wanted to call Luca, but maybe Luca left that note to tie me to him or the case somehow?
I’m so confused.
“We’re unemployed.” Jason interrupts my stare-off with Wade.
I turn toward him and place my bag on the desk. “This sucks. How long have you worked here? I’m not
getting anything worthwhile; I haven’t even worked here for a year.”
“Year and a half. I’m not getting much more than you.” He folds his arms across his chest. “That was a cold speech.”
“They just want to get this over with.” From the corner of my eye, I spot Detective Wade heading toward me. I don’t want Jason to hear our conversation, so I move away from him quickly. “I’m going to check my appointment and e-mail.” And I step toward one of the private rooms, pretending not to notice Wade.
“Miss Michaels.” Wade’s impatient voice meets my ears.
Turning around, I greet him with a small smile. “Good morning.”
When he came to my apartment Saturday, I estimated this guy to be in his twenties – his short brown hair makes him look really young – but I think he’s actually in his mid-thirties.
He holds out his hand. “Detective Richard Wade.” His colleague, a long-legged brunette, joins him. “This is Detective Kelli Ann Collopy.”
“Hi.”
“I was expecting your call, Miss Michaels.” He tilts his head to the side.
“I was going to call you this morning from work,” I explain and stop there because I don’t want to risk saying too much. I still have no idea what I’m supposed to say about the note Alex left behind stating to ‘contact Fallon Michaels if anything happens to him’.
“We can talk now.” The woman strolls into the private office and holds the door open for us to enter.
She closes it while Wade gestures for me to sit and leans against the window, facing me. “Can I call you Fallon?”
“Sure.”
“Fallon, Alex’s autopsy revealed he died of a heroin overdose. However, after finding that note, we must look further into this case. What exactly was your relationship with Alex?”
Heroin overdose? How did the Syndicate set that up? “Apart from the employer-employee relationship, we didn’t have one.”
For Luca (Chicago Syndicate Book 2) Page 1
