For Luca (Chicago Syndicate Book 2)

by Naomi, Soraya

  “Do you want to call the police together now? It’s almost nine a.m. Then we can scratch that off your list too?” Luca persuades.

  I give my phone to Adriano, who has taken a business card out of his pocket. I assume it’s the card of the Lake Forest detective we need to contact. He enters the number and returns it.

  “What do I say?”

  Luca provides me instructions. “Just ask all your questions. If they start to throw questions at you, and you don’t know how to answer, I’ll take over the call.”

  Nodding, I put the phone on speaker so they can easily listen with me.

  “Lake Forest Police Department, Detective Johnson speaking.”

  “Hi, this is Fallon Michaels, I was supposed to contact you.”

  “Ah yes, Miss Michaels, I’m very sorry for your loss,” he states coldly. “My team is investigating the house as we speak, but we already discovered a lot of things last night that could help us establish a timeline of the events that took place.”

  Luca and I lock eyes, both with a frown.

  “Most likely scenario is a burglary that went wrong. Money and jewelry were stolen from the house.”

  I retort, “This kind of seems like you’re already done with the investigation. When is the autopsy?”

  He sighs. “Autopsy hasn’t been scheduled yet.”

  Adriano waves his finger to me, and he whispers, “Autopsy is mandatory in all suspicious deaths or homicides.”

  “Why not?” I ask Johnson. “Autopsy is mandatory in all suspicious deaths or homicides.”

  “It will be scheduled.”

  His dismissal is angering me. “When? I want specific answers. When is the autopsy, and when can I bury my parents?”

  He speaks with a clear accusatory tone. “You also messed with the crime scene. Maybe you should come in?”

  Luca takes over the conversation instantly as I feel his entire body stiffening. “This is Luca DeMiliano speaking on behalf of Miss Michaels. Her lawyer will visit you today. You and I both know it’s not necessary for her to come in, so drop the attitude and do your job.”

  “A lawyer isn’t—”

  Luca ignores him, and he continues harshly, “I expect to receive an update from her lawyer before the end of this workday with an autopsy date that will take place this week. The lawyer will be your new contact person.” And with that, he hangs up.

  Adriano remarks, “He was a condescending asshole last night too.”

  “What a fucker.” Luca throws the phone on the coffee table.

  While I zone out and practically climb onto Luca’s lap, hiding my face in his neck as his arms come around me in a tight embrace, he instructs Adriano, “Have Salvatore visit the Lake Forest police because I don’t want them bothering her.”

  ***

  The rest of the week passes me by in a blur. There’s so much to deal with, but everything is being handled by Luca and Teagan, who returned home the day after I called her.

  Teagan and Luca are too sweet to me and even manage to make me forget my anguish sometimes. But the sorrow and grief cripple me continuously, even through the few random moments they make me forget.

  Weird thing is that my parents’ death has pushed away the hurt over my rape. That dirty feeling I had is gone, replaced by pure rage at Ashton. He abused me, and he killed my parents.

  Luca’s lawyer, Salvatore, keeps me updated on the investigation, but the police persistently keep us at bay, and it seems as if they don’t care a bit about this case.

  Teagan and I are back together in our apartment, but I miss Luca’s touch comforting me.

  Today is the funeral. Their bodies were released yesterday, and Luca arranged the funeral within one day. I want my parents buried near me, so we found a burial plot that’s walking distance from my apartment.

  It’s mid-December on this cold and dreary Saturday as Luca, Teagan, and I head over to the Parish of the Blessed where the funeral will take place.

  I don’t have a huge family and opted not to speak. The few people that do speak annoy me, pretending they knew my parents so well, but most are my dad’s clients and family members we only saw on birthdays and Christmas.

  Luca, Teagan, Jason, Wade, and I are sitting in the front row as Father Eli speaks. I just gaze at the black organ pipes behind the sanctuary that are running up to the dome ceiling, which is beautifully painted with angels in soft, dreamy colors.

  I’m not Catholic, but my father was, so here I am in the church where I caught Luca so many months ago and where I witnessed a shooting the day Luca took me back home after being held at the Syndicate’s headquarters.

  This is all so fucked up, but not much is registering at the moment. I sit here while Luca’s fingers tighten around our clasped hands. Tears stream down my face, but I’m not gasping for air nor is my body trembling. My tears are just silently flowing while I listen to the priest.

  After the burial, I have to stay strong while I receive condolences. Teagan and I receive them as I lean back against Luca, who’s holding me up. But at one point, I can’t take it anymore, and there’s still a line of people waiting, so I turn and bury my head in his chest. Luca’s hands immediately cover my lower back and head.

  “I want to leave. I can’t do this anymore,” I whisper.

  I block the world out while Luca wraps me in the protection of his arms, and I hear him addressing Teagan.

  “Teagan, she wants to leave. I’m taking her home. She’s had enough.”

  “I’ll take care of everything here,” Teagan offers while her hand circles my back

  “Adriano can take you home, and he’ll help you,” Luca murmurs.

  “Okay, thanks, Luca. Babe?”

  I turn my head to Teagan. “I’m just done with this now. I want to be home.”

  She nods as Luca turns us, and we head out. He hails a cab outside because he realizes that I don’t want to walk back.

  At home, we immediately enter my bedroom, and he tucks me under the covers.

  “Fai un pisolino.” Take a nap. “Tak—”

  “Lo farò.” I will. I cut in before he translates. “I’ve been taking Italian lessons,” I admit with a sad smirk.

  Astonished, he looks down at me as he sits beside me on the mattress. “For how long?”

  “A couple of weeks. I could already understand a lot of short sentences you said.”

  “I know.”

  “Just not when...” I add hesitantly, “Not when you said things in the heat of the moment. That went too quickly and you forgot to translate then.”

  He barks out a huge laugh, causing me to experience my first genuine smile and carefree moment in days. I want him to stay. “Can you stay?”

  Checking his watch, he disappointedly explains, “I have to leave because I’ve been neglecting work, but I can come back later?”

  When he mentions his work, I’m suddenly weary and wondering what the hell we’re doing, but I ignore it, because we can discuss it later. First, I need to cope with the abuse and losing my parents. “I changed my locks, but I have a feeling you can find your way in.”

  His lips curl up, and he scratches his jaw. “I’m a resourceful man.”

  “Hmmm. I’m starting to realize how resourceful you actually are.”

  And we both grin. But now guilt follows, and my smile disappears.

  “Cosa c'è?” What?

  “How can I laugh today? I just buried my parents,” I confess, appalled by my own behavior.

  He pulls the covers down slightly to trace his knuckles over my collarbone, causing a deep tingle in my lower stomach. “That’s not how this works. Of course you can laugh. Don’t you think your parents want you to move on? No parent wants their child to be overcome with grief. Don’t feel guilty for laughing. Honor them with your smile, dolcezza.”

  His words spark a hope that one day my broken heart and soul will be mended. And he just called me ‘dolcezza’ for the first time in ages, which was his nickname for me when we date
d.

  His knuckles stroke a path down to my neckline, moving over the swells of my breasts as my chest starts to rise and fall rapidly. He holds my eyes, swallowing me whole. “Fallon, I have to go.”

  His voice is rough, and I wonder if he’s telling me or trying to convince himself.

  Rising, he turns and steps out.

  ***

  On Monday, Wade drops me off at Sylvia’s office again because he and I agree that it’s not safe for me to travel alone while Ashton is still out there. Wade and Luca were amicable to one another at the funeral and haven’t seen each other since then. Wade is busy with who knows what, and I have a feeling he’s thankful that I have Luca back again. I’ve been leaning on Wade a lot lately, and I don’t want to eat up all of his time.

  Luca stayed with me Saturday night and yesterday throughout the day. We sleep and shower together, but he doesn’t make a move to take it a step further, which is a slight relief because I’m not sure how I’ll respond since it will be the first time that I’ve been intimate with a man since the sexual abuse. However, with each day that passes, I’m becoming even more eager for him to touch me, for him to make love to me.

  I had Wade drop me off earlier today, and he didn’t ask any questions, so I think he probably figures my appointment is just earlier this week.

  Camilla is waiting inside when I tread through the glass doors after climbing the stairs.

  She stands up and rummages through her large leather bag that hangs off her shoulder. “Hey, Fallon.”

  “We need to talk before we continue.” I grab her hand as I slide onto the seat in the deserted waiting room. “Camilla, I’ve been in contact with Luca and Adriano.”

  Her eyes round.

  “My parents died last week.”

  Her hand flies to her mouth as she sits next to me. “Oh my god.”

  The memories of what I found in that study haunt me every night, so I tell her the story quickly, but my tears are unrelenting and track down my face.

  “I can’t believe how much you’ve been through the past week.” And she startles me when she surrounds me in a sympathetic embrace which I return.

  “It’s been surreal, that’s for sure. But Luca and Adriano have helped me, Cam.” I pull back. “I don’t like lying to them now. Luca has arranged everything for me, and Adriano helped just as much. I believe we should confide in them.”

  Camilla runs her fingers through her hair once. “I can’t, Fallon, but I completely understand that you don’t want to lie. And you should focus on yourself. How are you?”

  Taking a tissue from my purse, I dry my eyes. “I have major up and downs. The entire week has been a dark cloud, but the people around me keep me sane, and I don’t know what I would’ve done without my friends. Even though I was pushing them all away, from Luca to Teagan and Jason, they’ve all been there for me since my parents passed.”

  She takes my hand in hers. “I appreciate everything you’ve done; don’t worry about me.”

  “I can’t not worry about you.” Biting my lower lip, I ponder what to do. She’s my friend, and I honestly believe that if the roles were reversed, she would help me. “I withdrew another five hundred dollars from my account.” I hand her the bills. “Here.”

  “Are you sure you can spare it?”

  I press the money in her hand. “Take it. I know you’re broke. And give me the disposable phone.”

  “I’m not sure that would be wise. What if Luca finds it? I don’t want to cause problems for you.”

  “I’ll handle Luca, but you use this week to at least think about confessing to Adriano or Luca. Don’t dismiss my idea right off the bat. Let’s meet again same time next week.”

  Sylvia appears in her doorway. “Fallon, are you ready?”

  Camilla and I stand up and hug.

  She slips the new phone into the pocket of my coat and mutters quickly in my ear. “I’ll be here next week. Thank you and take care.”

  Cam leaves, and I reoccupy the same seat as last week on the beige recliner after shedding my coat and throwing it on the couch along with my purse.

  Sylvia pours two cups of steaming tea. “How was your week?”

  “A whirlwind of emotions. My parents died.”

  She takes her seat across from me and slides closer to encourage me with indulgent eyes.

  “I found them last week, Tuesday, in our house, murdered.” I’m clutching a tissue in my hand and am able to say these words without releasing my tears.

  “Let your tears fall. Don’t hold it in.”

  “All I’ve been doing is crying. I’m so sick of it.”

  “Crying is part of your healing process.”

  “I know. I want to talk about something else though.”

  “Continue. We can discuss anything you want, but I do want to talk about your parents’ death before the end of our session.”

  I tuck my legs under my behind. “Ever since they died last week, I’ve been in contact with Luca. And since then, that ‘need’ I told you about, the need to feel desirable, it has intensified. I’m a bit hesitant to take it a step further, but I think I’m ready. Is that weird?”

  “Nothing is weird. If it feels good, go with your gut. I do think you should tell him beforehand about what you’ve been through. Does he know?”

  “No,” I answer truthfully.

  She nods but stays quiet.

  “He’s been there for me, and I’ve been clinging to him and my friends.”

  “I’m proud that you’re at least making an effort to open up to your friends and that you’re allowing them to help you with your grief.”

  “My parents’ passing and the dismissive way in which the police are handling the case have sparked a kind of anger I’ve never felt before. And honestly, it’s consuming my mind to the point where I hardly think of the rape.”

  “The mind usually has the worst memories at the forefront. You’ve been through a lot, and although it might seem like you don’t think about the abuse at all, you still need to work through it. And that’s what we’ll do here. I presume you didn’t start yoga or writing in a diary?”

  I shake my head and warm my hand against the hot teacup.

  “Can you do that this week?” she asks.

  “I was planning to.”

  “I have to say, you come across as fairly calm now. What kind of anger do you feel?”

  “That’s because I have my moments. Moments where I’m calm and moments where I just start to rant.” I pause to try to find the correct words. “I feel growing disappointment and resentment at all the injustice that has been done to me, causing me to feel helpless, which fuels a fury inside me.”

  “I’m going to teach you how to lose that sensation of vulnerability because that, in essence, is what you feel. Writing down your thoughts will help you immensely. And I want you to register for yoga classes today.”

  For the rest of the session, she gives me insights on how to rearrange my negative thoughts into positive ones. After talking to Sylvia, I once again feel calmer, more hopeful, and a little lighter.

  ***

  For the next two weeks, Sylvia and I meet twice a week on Monday and Thursday. On Mondays, Camilla meets me at Sylvia’s office so that I can hand her cash, but I still haven’t had much luck in convincing her to speak to Adriano or Luca – she’s too apprehensive to give them even an ounce of trust. And I do understand her because I was in that same situation back in August.

  Although my friends all help me, without Sylvia, I wouldn’t have ever gotten some sort of hold on my own life. She ensures I don’t become this aggrieved person and helps me quell the bitterness boiling inside; however, this doesn’t last for long.

  As the police continue to do nothing, the fury slowly starts to resurface, and my way of thinking starts to change. How good and bad might not exist as I think. Cops are dismissing me and my parents’ case while a Mafia man has offered to help me.

  It infuriates me that when Collopy died, they had
a suspect – a wrong suspect, me – within a day and were on top of that case because she was one of them, even though she was a crooked cop! While the case regarding my parents, two innocent people who were murdered, is just thrown onto some pile. Apparently, unless you are a cop, you don’t count.

  Salvatore still keeps me updated, but there’s not much to keep me updated on because the police handle this case like it’s not important, like they don’t care. The evidence isn’t conclusive enough to label it a burglary, but they haven’t made any effort to solve the case or found any leads as to whom the murderer is, even though I’m sure the killer is Ashton. Not once has Ashton or any other possible suspect’s name come up. And not once has Luca mentioned his offer to help me again – so far he hasn’t interfered with the investigation.

  While I’m changing and evolving in those weeks after their death, the resentment grows inside of me. The disappointment at the world and at myself. And then comes the slow acceptance of how I want justice for my parents, justice the regular system might not provide. I’m tired of always looking over my shoulder because Ashton, the man who raped me and killed my parents, is still out there.

  I tighten the belt on my red wool trench coat when the freezing wind blows through my legs as I stand before my parents’ graves. It’s January first of the New Year, and the marble headstones are dusted with a light layer of snow.

  As I deal with my grief, a sensation resembling revulsion and malevolence builds up. It’s a need for retaliation, for payback. Although I realize payback won’t bring them back, I ache for retribution while the police continue to let me down.

  CHAPTER 25

  Luca

  I unlock the door of her apartment with the key I had made right after she changed her locks weeks ago. I knew exactly when she had them changed, and one of my soldiers was ordered to get me a copy of the new key. Fallon also knew I had a copy because that’s why she made a remark of how resourceful I can be. And since that night, I’ve been using the key I had in my possession; she never asked a question about it.