For Logan (Chicago Syndicate Book 5)

by Soraya Naomi

  Adriano shakes his head forcefully. “Stay awake. You’re going to feel pain every second for the rest of your life. I’m not going to cut off your hands. Because you’ll need them to jerk off men in prison every night. Death is too easy for you. That won’t satisfy me. I want you to live in hell for the rest of your life because I have to live in this hell! You’ll be raped and tortured, but kept alive, after your conviction. And trust me, you will get convicted. My power extends to levels you don’t even know about.”

  “Adriano, Luca,” I interrupt. “He’s losing consciousness. If you want him to survive, then we need to tend to his wounds.”

  “Fine. Give him antibiotics. Set his bones. But make it painful and keep the fucker alive.” Adriano releases him, and we all stand back as Dimitri topples back onto the bed, whining in agony.

  This night I realize how attached I’ve become to this organization. My previously lonely life has ceased to exist.

  I try to pay attention again when Adriano continues, “I want Medlov tried and sentenced so that my Italian friends in prison can make his life a living hell. And I don’t want anyone interfering with my plans.”

  Right now, all I long for is the comfort of cricket. For some light, for her laugh, her bluntness.

  “I have to clean up. I can’t go back to Cam covered in blood,” Adriano concludes before he strides out.

  I inform Luca, “There’s one Ukrainian left that could pose a problem for us.”

  “Mykhail,” he comments, glaring at Dimitri crying pitifully on the bed. “He hasn’t caused us any problems, so I think he and his father are at odds. As long as he isn’t an issue to us, I don’t care about Mykhail. Continue to have soldiers looking for him, but he isn’t a priority anymore.”

  “Fine. I’ll inform the team.”

  I go in search of another Capo to patch up Dimitri and set everything in motion to hand him over to the FBI. There were so many slaves held on his estate that it’ll be easy to convict him, but every trace of our involvement must be erased first.

  As I walk out through the hall toward the elevator to return to the first floor, I call Henry, “Hey, we have Dimitri. Now Adriano wants him to pay in prison. Did you erase every bit of security footage of us when we bombed the estate the night Cam was taken?”

  “Yes, I’ve done that.”

  “Okay, clean up his computers and files. Make sure you check the entire system of his sex club. And delete any mention of Syndicate members, Club 7, or anything else that can be traced to us. Then I’ll have the FBI find the information while we anonymously hand over Dimitri, and they can open a case against him.”

  “I’m almost done with that already. Give me a few hours to finish up,” Henry replies before he hangs up.

  He works fast, so this is effectively the end of the war between the Ukrainian and Italian mafias. Yet all I want to do now is unwind with Rosa.

  As I enter a jam-packed Club 7, I’m about to call Rosa when I spot her. She’s leaning against the bar, scanning the crowd until her lovely gaze lands on me. Her mouth curves up before we both glance around to ensure no one’s watching us. I discreetly jerk my chin upward, signaling to her to meet me on the rooftop.

  Nodding, she follows me out, taking the other elevator toward the top of the skyscraper. This time, I wait for her at the elevator. The second the doors skate open, I yank Rosa out of the scant place, hurling her against me for a much-needed hug.

  “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Rosa pulls back and edges my suit jacket aside. Her eyes round when she notices blood spatters on my dress shirt.

  “I’m fine.” I cup her face, calming down after the adrenaline rush of the last hour recedes.

  I crush my mouth to hers as my hand skims down the curve of her behind, claiming it with a possessive squeeze and lifting her up into my arms. Then I carry her through the restaurant and terrace doors, toward our canopy lounger.

  After I lay her down with her black hair fanning around her on the grey sheets, she opens her arms, sensing my dark mood. I lie with my head on her stomach and an arm around her middle as she strokes my hair quietly. My eyes fall closed from the reassuring touch.

  “What happened? Did you capture Dimitri?” she asks, waiting patiently for an answer. “What are you going to do with him?”

  “Yes, we have him and are giving him to the FBI to be prosecuted.”

  “And Mykhail too?” she inquires.

  I don’t reply, because although I’ve been confiding in Rosa a lot, I must protect her the same way the other men safeguard their significant others. All of a sudden, it hits me how grateful I am that she’s here with me, on Christmas Eve. When I used to kill as a soldier or agent, I couldn’t find comfort anywhere, so I just fucked around. But ever since joining this Syndicate, I embrace the comfort Rosa offers me. While she brushes her fingers through my hair, I think about how I can understand Adriano’s mercilessness. If anyone were to hurt Rosa, I’d go on a rampage. These few moments of reflective silence, in this safe place of ours, reinforce me, and I relish in her companionship. This makes it worth being a mafia man – the affection of Rosa. That peculiar sentiment fades away, and I sigh into the darkness.

  “What’s wrong, Logan?” Rosa murmurs with a tremor in her voice.

  Looking up, I catch her concerned expression. “It was just an intense hour. Don’t worry.” I rest my chin on her stomach while her fingers trace the shell of my ear. “I needed to see you. I felt strange.”

  “How come?”

  “I’m not sure. Sometimes, it’s as if I don’t know who I really am.”

  Her response tells me how perceptive she is and how well Rosa has gotten to know me. “Maybe you should try using one name. Sometimes a simple change can help you find yourself. You’re always someone else. Either Wade, or Richard, or Logan. It’s a shock you don’t have multiple personality disorder,” she teases.

  I feel a smile tugging at my lips. Only she can make me feel carefree after I’ve just assisted my boss with ripping out a man’s tongue. “You do make a good point,” I concede.

  As she palms my cheek, I lean into her touch. “You’re Logan. My Logan.”

  “I’m starting to understand that,” I mutter and shift up the length of her body.

  “You know what you need? You need to relax. I always see you running after someone. But stop and look at where you are for a second”—she waves her hand to the starry sky—“in this beautiful place. With me. Someone who cares about you.”

  Rosa has perfectly summed up my state.

  “I’m just fucking scared,” I admit, staring into her caramel eyes. “Everyone I’ve ever loved has died. Do you know what that does to a person, when it happens not once but twice?”

  “I don’t know how it is. But don’t let Jenny and Logan’s deaths determine how you live your life. I’m here now, alive and well.”

  “Somehow you’ve helped from the beginning without even realizing it,” I acknowledge.

  This is what meeting Rosa has done for me. She’s teaching me to live in the moment, instead of wallowing in the grief of the past or fearing the uncertainty of the future. She’s shown me that love doesn’t always have to hurt. Without reserve, I press my lips against hers and express how much her presence in my life gratifies me.

  Nonetheless, we’re disturbed by my damn phone. I take it out of the inside pocket of my jacket to read the message.

  Adriano: Did you set everything in motion? Come by the hospital when you’re done.

  I put my device back, resting my forehead against Rosa’s. “Duty calls. I need to go.” I have to visit CIA headquarters before I meet Adriano.

  “I need to leave as well to visit with my family for Christmas,” she says, not hiding her disappointment.

  “We’ll see each other tomorrow at your mother’s Christmas party,” I remind her.

  “Oh yeah. I’m happy you’ll be there.”

  “Me too, cricket.” I kiss the tip of her nose and climb off the bed, offeri
ng my hand. “I’ll escort you out, ma’am.” The rioting emotions within me have been quelled by Rosa.

  She slaps her hand in mine, linking my fingers through hers.

  There’s a new reason why I’m so attached to the Syndicate, and that reason is Rosa Calderone. I’m learning that in this violent life, you need someone to keep you sane. I need her to keep the darkness from controlling my existence. Furthermore, I can’t live twenty-four seven with death and torture.

  So I decide to take her advice and inform the Syndicate men to call me Logan. My past is my past, and she’s my future. Even though we haven’t slept together, she’s found her way into a secret place in my heart.

  On the other hand, a barbaric need to possess her consumes me. And as a consequence, I become too reckless, endangering both our relationship and our lives.

  CHAPTER 23

  Rosalia

  On Christmas morning, I’m driving over to Mykhail’s apartment complex in the Loop with a huge smile plastered on my face. Logan’s opening up to me more, and my love for him grows with every mystery about him that I unravel. On top of that, now that Dimitri’s been caught, maybe Mykhail can start rebuilding his life.

  I grab a bag filled with presents from the back seat before walking to the entrance and pressing the buzzer. Climbing up to the second floor, I see Adam’s little frame waiting for me at the door.

  “Rosa!” he exclaims, eyeing the wrapping paper. He’s the only one that calls me Rosa besides Logan.

  “Hey, sweetie. Merry Christmas!” I bend down to scoop him up.

  He wraps his thin arms around my neck as I kick the door shut behind me. Moving through the hall into the quaint living room that’s decorated with a medium sized tree, I toss Adam onto the cream couch, next to Mykhail.

  “Merry Christmas, Rosalia,” Mykhail greets me, pointing toward the abundance of presents. “You’re spoiling him.”

  “He deserves to be spoiled.”

  “He does,” Mykhail agrees.

  “Santa’s told me that you’ve been a good boy.” I open the bag, and Adam slides off the couch to peek inside.

  He nods eagerly. “I brushed my teeth all by myself,” he says, showing his tiny, clean teeth.

  “That’s amazing,” I compliment him, taking out one present and handing it over.

  Clapping, he accepts it.

  Mykhail then reminds Adam, “What do we say, Adam? Thank...”

  “Thank you,” Adam mumbles, tearing open the red paper and finding a train set. “Yay!”

  “I have much more.” I empty the bag onto the floor, and Adam rummages around through the presents with delight as I sit down next to Mykhail.

  “So, any updates?” he probes.

  “Your father’s going to be handed over to the FBI. Logan didn’t tell me anything about you, and I couldn’t press the matter. But I do think that if Dimitri is sentenced, they’ll just leave you alone. They only wanted you to help them catch him. I believe I know the Syndicate’s men well enough to presume that if you aren’t a direct risk, they won’t be searching for you anymore.”

  Mykhail exhales in relief. “Thank God. I’m going stir crazy cooped up in this apartment with Adam all day. I need to enroll him in preschool, and I also need to start attending classes again.”

  “We have to wait a few weeks for everything to settle down. Then I can talk to my father and Logan. I’ll explain how I’ve run into to you on campus, and you’re my friend, and you won’t be a problem for them. We can’t have them discover that I helped you hide. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now.” I’m just too afraid I’ll lose Logan if it becomes known.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you so much for everything, Rosalia.”

  “You’re welcome. I’d do anything for this little guy.” I tickle Adam.

  He arranges himself in my lap while inspecting every inch of his new train and making train noises.

  “Who wants hot cocoa?” I suggest.

  “Me, me!” Adam yells, and we both stare at Mykhail expectantly.

  “I guess I’ll make it,” he offers dryly and stands up.

  “Yes, you make it,” Adam echoes, and we break out in a laugh.

  “You spend too much time with Rosalia,” Mykhail teases him.

  “I love Rosa,” Adam speaks as he plays with his toy.

  “I love you too.” I cuddle him, smooching his chubby cheek while spending the morning and afternoon with my best friend and my favorite toddler.

  Around dinnertime, I say my goodbyes to return home and change for my mother’s Christmas party – where I get to see my favorite man.

  ***

  Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I pull my hair up into a bun. I’ve dressed up in an emerald wide-flowing satin skirt and a sheer black sleeveless top with a high neckline. I choose silver hoop earrings and finish my look with vampire-red lipstick. Spritzing my perfume on my neck, I note the bottle is completely empty, so I chuck it into the wastebasket beneath the marble sink and step into my silver-colored ballet flats.

  In a hurry, I grab my clutch with my phone from the bed before careening across the garden, around the pool, and toward the main house. People are bustling in a frenzy with pots and pans in the kitchen while a delicious fragrance of spices wafts around. Family, friends, and my mother are busy putting the final touches on an elaborate Christmas dinner.

  “Rosalia!” my mother nearly shouts. “Finally, you’re here. People have already arrived. Your father’s on his way. Can you go see to the guests? I’ll be back out in ten minutes.”

  “Sure.” I steal a fresh-baked gingerbread cookie from a tray on the kitchen island, along with a glass of eggnog.

  I pass the gigantic tree and cross the foyer to the sunken living room, which is lavishly decorated in white, red, and green. Christmas songs are playing from the speakers while I say hello to people left and right after flinging my clutch onto the sofa, searching for Logan, and locating him with Luca and Fallon. As I approach them, his gaze moves to me, powerful and direct, and his lips quirk to one side in that roguish manner I’ve come to know. He’s the man who has a hold over my heart in his black three-piece suit, perfected with a tie. His dirty blond hair is combed back, but some untamable strands are falling over his forehead.

  “Hey, guys.” I kiss Luca and Fallon on their cheeks first, and the second I connect with Logan, a tingle runs up my spine.

  Luca looks over my shoulder and greets, “James.”

  So I spin around.

  “Bon giorno. Luca, Logan, a word. We’ll be right back,” my father says to me, whisking Logan away from me.

  Wait a minute, my father called him Logan?

  I continue welcoming guests and soon, the house is filled. The tree in the foyer is surrounded by tons of presents, and the mood is light, thankfully; it’s our first family celebration without Cam and Adriano since he stayed at the hospital with her.

  One of my cousins is already tipsy as he points at my green skirt and teases loudly, “Rosalia, you look like the Grinch. But a beautiful Grinch.”

  I smile and retort, “You look already drunk, Tony.”

  “That’s because I am.”

  At that moment, I glance at the doorway as Logan casually drapes his jacket over the sofa before folding back his sleeves.

  “And why are you sober?” Tony slurs. “Usually, you’re drunk with me at this point.”

  That’s true. But I’ve had other things on my mind, and I don’t want to live with weekly hangovers anymore. “I’m taking it slow. I’d like to remember this night tomorrow.”

  While Tony talks, I’m riveted by Logan. Although I was with him last night, I yearn for his touch again and want to make love to him, yet I’m still a bit hesitant. I haven’t been a virgin for twenty-one years to callously throw it away.

  Several women gather around Logan in the blink of an eye, each of them gawking at his hard muscles that his shirt doesn’t hide in the least. Annoyance lurks inside me, and Logan is expertly avoiding my eye
s as we mingle; whereas I’m aware of him the entire time, always in conversation with others. But when the same girl whispers something to him for the third time, making him smile, I clench my fist.

  Let it go. Don’t confront him.

  Nevertheless, I’m striding toward them before I know it. Logan glimpses at me and straightens to tell something to the woman. Then he dashes out to the foyer and up the curving stairway. I finish my eggnog and sneak out as well, ensuring no one witnesses me going after him.

  On the second floor, I slink down the wide hall, not knowing which room he entered, so I whisper-shout, “Logan.”

  As I pass the third door, it opens and I’m yanked inside the bathroom by my arm and pressed up against the door. Logan’s palms land beside my ears, caging me in, and he pushes his front to my chest, wedging his leg between mine.

  “Hey, cricket. You look absolutely too beautiful for me to keep my hands off you.”

  He kisses me. Not tenderly. Not cautiously extending an invitation, but possessing me with a sweep of his tongue. Heat creeps up, melting my center of gravity, and a moan escapes as I feel the bulge in his slacks.

  “Were you jealous?” He nuzzles my throat.

  I nod and admit, “I don’t like you flirting with her.”

  He shows me a half-smile. “I wasn’t flirting with her.”

  In reply, I give him a bland stare. “You know what I mean. Just don’t encourage her.”

  “I won’t,” he promises immediately. “But no other men either, cricket. Tit for tat.”

  “No men,” I compromise. If he only knew how tight his grasp on my soul is. “By the way, did you tell the Syndicate to call you Logan?”

  “I did. I listened to you,” he answers in a tender voice and holds me, touching my cheek lightly with the back of his hand.

  It’s the closest I’ve ever felt to being treasured.

  Abruptly, my mother’s voice booms through the wall. Despite the interruption, Logan’s lips move down toward my breasts, yet I push him away with a giggle.

  “Shhh,” he warns as we hear her bounding back down the stairs. “You go first before we get caught.” He opens the door for me.