Killing Me Softly: A Chicago Mafia Syndicate (Castaletta Book 3)

by Ali Parker

  "It's Jackson." Her voice was smooth as glass. She had part of the gig down for sure.

  After winking at her, I closed the door and found my seat again. "It's Audrey Jackson. She's a whore in the syndicate I'm working with."

  Jon made a sound like clicking his tongue against his teeth. "And the mighty shall fall."

  I laughed. "Don't be a cock. Find out what you can, and dig deep, Jon. She's clean from the surface, but something is off."

  "Anything for you, man." He sighed. "Kate misses you, Marcus. You sure you don't want to come home for a weekend or something, man? Just stop in once a month?"

  "You know that would never work." I ran my hand down my face as my heart ripped open inside of my chest. I missed her so fucking bad. "You guys getting hitched soon?"

  "Six months I think." He cleared his throat. "You'll be here, right?"

  "I wouldn't miss it, man. Alright, enough of this soft chummy bullshit. I gotta go kill someone. Hope it's not you." I snorted.

  "Later, bro."

  How I had an enemy and a brother in the same stuffy-ass cop from New Orleans was beyond me. I stood and walked toward the window, letting my eyes run along Audrey as she swatted at Zak and laughed again.

  Beautiful.

  Seemed like she had a few fucked up stories of her own. Now to find out what they are... and see if she's friend or foe, enemy or lover.

  Why couldn't she be both? Everyone else in his life was.

  Why change things up now?

  Chapter 14

  Izabella

  "Izzy," D started as we sat side by side on the jet. My father was in a deep sleep, and I'd been ignoring both of them since we left the house.

  "No. I don't want to talk about anything right now. I need to keep my head in the game, and everything you want to discuss is going to destroy my concentration." I glanced at him with a sideways look and leaned back, closing my eyes as if to say the conversation was over before it started.

  "I was going to tell you about your father and my mother. Honestly." His fingers brushing by my arm didn't help in me wanting to ignore him.

  "How could you not?" I glanced over at him. "What else don't I know, D? Marco said you were hiding something from me. Something huge. What the fuck is it?" I hated the fact that my emotions were getting the best of me.

  "Of course Marco said something to you to break us down." He turned and reached over, cupping my face as he leaned toward me, dominating the space all around me. "He's fighting his own battles right now, and if there someone we're not going to trust, it's your fucking brother."

  "Stop it." I pulled away from him and unbuckled before standing up and walking toward the flight attendant. "Call Cooper and leave our personal bullshit out of this. Marco isn't to blame for any of this. You are."

  The attendant looked up with surprise in her eyes. She jolted up. "Miss Castaletta. Sorry. Did you need me to get you something?"

  "No, but thank you. I can get it myself." I poured myself a glass of bourbon and dropped three ice cubes in the glass before turning and walking back toward D, who had the phone lifted to his handsome face. The scowl on his lips didn't belong there, but it seemed to be a standard expression when I was around lately.

  "Adam Cooper, please." D paused and reached for my glass.

  I gave it to him and sat down beside him, turning a little and pressing my knee against the side of his leg. He looked like a dark angel in his black silk shirt and slacks. His hair was slicked back perfectly, his eyes deep blue like the belly of the ocean. 'I love you' sat on the tip of my tongue, though I would never again tell him.

  He was a tease, a needy bastard that used me when it fit his agenda. Now wasn't one of those times. I hated myself for loving him instead of Edward. There had to be a way to shift my desire, my longing toward someone who could truly love me too.

  Maybe passion was overrated. Over time it seemed that pain had more hold on me than passion ever would. The safety of belonging to Edward was appealing. I needed to get rid of Jonathan and tell D goodbye forever. Only then could I be with Eddy. He deserved more than I would ever be able to truly commit to a relationship with him, but something was better than nothing, right?

  At least one of us would be happy.

  "This is Demetri DeMarco. I work for Mr. Joe Castaletta. If Mr. Cooper is-" D paused and turned to look out the window of the plane. "Good. I'll wait."

  I picked at my fingers and tried not to get agitated at how long Adam left D waiting. We were uninvited guest on the West Coast, in another syndicate's playground. We deserved far more than having to wait on the phone for a few extra minutes.

  How we'd gone from losing momma to losing Freddy to flying to California in a matter of weeks was beyond me. I hadn't truly had time to really sit down and process the loss of my little brother. Much like I'd done for momma, it would come in overwhelming moments... and I would do as I had done in the past, give into those moments and pray like hell that they passed quickly.

  "Adam. This is Demetri." D smiled and leaned back in his seat. "Sorry for the intrusion, but we've been through hell up in Chicago, and Joe's ready to send war to your door. We've talked him into having a calm sit-down with you to better understand what part you've played in all of the death and mayhem we've experienced. I pray you can clear your schedule and join us for dinner tonight."

  I could hear Adam's voice, but couldn't make out the words. By the expression on D's handsome face, I figured it was good news.

  "Excellent. We'll see you tonight at D'Nicee in downtown." D dropped the call and closed his eyes. "He's willing to meet with us out of respect for his father's relationship with Joe. He must not know that Joe is the reason his father won't be at his wedding or the birth of his children. This should be interesting."

  "Maybe I should let the two of you go and I can just stick to the shadows. Sounds like you might need a sniper more than a pretty smile and nice rack tonight." I took a drink of my bourbon, finishing it off.

  "No, I think you being the beautiful daughter to the Don is going to be one of the only reasons we make it out alive." He opened his eyes and reached for my hand. "I don't have secrets that I'm keeping from you. Can you say the same?"

  I closed my eyes and let the flavor of the liquor ease my thoughts. I didn't need to respond. I kept nothing from D. Never had and god help me, I probably never would.

  *

  "I want a full report on everyone in the syndicate by Friday morning. Period." My father gave D a stern look across the dinner table later that night. "Every single person that works for us. I want them accounted for, and I want to know what's going on. I realize my retirement is soon to come, but it's not here yet."

  "Of course, Don Castaletta." D nodded and pulled his napkin into his lap while I watched the interaction between the two most important men in my life.

  "Izabella." My father spoke my name before looking my way.

  "Yes, Daddy?"

  "Charlie isn't keeping up his end of the bargain anymore." He let out a long sigh and glanced back at D. "You told me that he called with issues again the other day, right?"

  "I did." D glanced over at me, sorrow at the edge of his eyes. Charlie or Charles DeSalls was an old friend of my father's and had been laundering money for us for as long as daddy was in business. He'd fucked up a few times, but everyone in our line of work did. Everyone except me.

  My father let out a painful sigh and lifting his napkin to wipe at the corners of his mouth. The old steak house we were having dinner in reminded me of the 1930's with its class and excellent customer service. It was like going back in time.

  "I can't continue to carry him." My father nodded at me. "Make sure he doesn't suffer at all. Alright?"

  "Dad. He has a family. His first grandkid is on the way." I knew exactly why my father was tired of dealing with Charles, and I couldn't blame him. The bastard was losing penny's here and there, which really equated to him stealing from us, but it wasn't enough to get upset about. It wasn't nea
rly enough to call for his death.

  "He's been warned, Izzy. Over and over. He fucked up. He pays the price. Period." My father picked up his fork and knife and went back to eating his steak.

  I glanced over at D, half-pleading with him to convince my father otherwise. He shook his head, shutting me down before I spoke a word.

  "There's a few other things we need to talk about." My father waved his knife toward me and D. "Just the three of us."

  "And what would that be?" I leaned closer. Anger burned in my belly, but I couldn't pinpoint what had set me off. I cared about Charlie and killing him would be painful, but I had little to no choice in the matter. Something about my father sleeping with D's mother, Maria was plaguing me too. How could he have done that and continued to hang around Big Papa DeMarco, D's father as a best friend figure for most of our lives?

  How sick was the man sitting across from me? Did I even really understand the depths to which my father was not only willing to go, but had already gone many times before?

  "The tapes that you gave Marco." He turned his attention from me to D. "You got them from the house before we left?"

  "No. He claimed that he couldn't find them." D picked up his beer and took a quick sip. "He was just wrapping up fucking my sister. I was in shock."

  "He's been fucking your sister for years." My father scowled. "How did you not know that?"

  D stiffened, and I worked hard not to let my emotions show on my face. He didn't know about Marco and Cat because he was too busy running a syndicate that was falling apart at every turn in the road.

  "We'll get the tapes when we get back." I poked at my salmon and let out a soft sigh. "Marco originally said that they were empty and then came back and said that the last one actually has proof of Freddy being involved in momma’s death."

  "Of course he was involved. He was shot in the head by a Kallup, who he was in bed with." My father's tone was ugly. "And the two of you have been too concerned with other things, like each other, to notice. Don't think I don't know what you've been doing. You better get your head out of each other's asses and wake up. Death is coming for all of us." He pounded the table, his voice a little too loud for the quaint steak house we sat in.

  "Joe. Lower your voice." D leaned in, his expression filled with angst, his teeth clamped together as he stared my father dead in the face. "Izzy and I are nothing more than work associates. We respect your wishes."

  "Do you?" He glanced from D to me. "If Drake was still here, he would have figured this out by now. He wouldn't be caught up in some torrid love affair that's going nowhere." He chuckled, the sound nasty, dark. "Maybe you should go get him from wherever you tucked him away to, hmmm, Izzy?"

  Shock rolled through me, but I kept my facade tight in place. I'd never lied to my father a day in my life. D's brother Drake was the only misstep I'd taken, and I'd done it for D, not Drake. Where I cared about the guy, he meant nothing to me compared to Demetri. When the moment came to fake Drake's death and tuck him away, D called on me to help. He and, I alongside an old friend of D's, Michael Carrington, faked Drake's death and helped plant him somewhere else, though the idiot kept his name.

  "Joe. We've been over this." D's tone grew dark. "We have too much to worry about right now to pull skeletons out of the closet. Me and Izzy will figure all of this out. We just need a goddamn minute where the sky isn't falling in."

  My father kept his eyes locked onto me, and fuck if I didn't stare back in his face. His voice was soft, loving like it was when I was a little girl.

  "Where is Drake, Izzy."

  "He's dead," I muttered, my chest aching for the lie.

  "Does it hurt you that he's dead?" My father tilted his head to the side, and the monster that lived beneath the surface of his skin peeked out at me.

  "Joe. Stop it. What the fuck are you getting at?" D reached over and tapped the table in front of my father, who ignored him.

  "No. He's Demetri's brother. Why would it hurt me? He was your thug, not mine." I leaned back and glanced over at D as he half-yelled at me.

  "Go back to the room. I'll grab you when we leave." There was panic on his face, worry in his eyes.

  "What?" I turned my attention back to my father, who hadn't moved an inch.

  "You never told her, did you?" My father smirked and sat back, his laughter inappropriate for the moment.

  "Joe. Don't do this." D stood up, his body rigid. Panic. He was in full blown panic. Why?

  "Do what?" I whispered as dark emotions flooded me. Marco had warned me at the cemetery. D had a secret he was holding back from me. The bastard had promised that he would never keep anything from me, that all he knew was mine to dig through, to know too, but it was a lie. I could feel the truth coming to a head.

  "No. You didn't stay away from her when I told you to." My father turned his attention to D as he lifted his bony finger, pointing to Demetri like he was scum. "You're the next in line to take my place. You need someone to teach you a lesson, boy. You belong to me and when I say jump, you fucking jump."

  "Joe. I'll jump. Don't do this." D's mask broke a little, but not nearly as much as mine when my father turned and pinned me with the truth.

  "Drake is your brother too, child. He's my little secret and for my sins, your mother repaid me in full. With Freddy."

  I stood on shaky legs, not hearing anything else the two of them said as I stumbled to the elevator and made my way back up to my room.

  I didn't know either of them. I never had.

  Chapter 15

  Demetri

  I sat numbly at the bar after she left and Joe followed after her. It was his mess to clean up, and yet, things would never be the same between us again. None of us.

  He'd proven his point. I didn't belong to myself as I'd almost begun to believe. He had me by the balls, and if Izabella was off limits, then I had to respect that. He wouldn't allow me to consider another alternative.

  I was grateful for him setting things straight in one way, and I was completely destroyed in another. The bastard knew that my brother was still alive somewhere in the world, and without a doubt, he knew where Drake was. He was toying with me.

  There was a part of me that knew without a doubt that I deserved whatever he threw my way. I'd been deceptive to the one man I promised to live my life protecting and serving.

  "Let's go." Izzy walked by me, her crimson dress tight, her long legs grabbing my attention.

  Pain laced my center as I realized that quite possibly I would never again get to feel those legs wrapped around me. Honor and trust were everything to her, and I was a man without either at present.

  "I'll talk tonight unless I give you the cue, and then you take over." Joe patted my back as we walked toward the front of the restaurant. "I'm sorry that you put me in a position to right your actions, son. You know you mean more to me than anyone else in this family outside of my baby." He nodded toward Izabella.

  "I know." I held the door for him, trying hard to swallow the bile rising in my chest. I hadn't been cut down so hard since I was a boy after his baby and met the end of his gun one night.

  "Is he bringing anyone with him?" Izabella glanced over her shoulder and my body hardened.

  She rarely wore makeup, but tonight, she went all out. It was to hurt me. I chuckled at the thought. Adam would fall in love with her, and knowing the calloused bitch, she would spend the night in his arms just to drive the knife deeper.

  Good. I needed to remember what pain felt like. Deep, gut-wrenching pain that would normally have me on my knees above a toilet, losing myself.

  "I don't know." I moved toward the car, opening the door for her. "Let's hope for our sake that he's not seeing anyone. He'll fall in love with you like we all do."

  "Like they all do." She moved toward the open car door. "You don't love anyone, which is for the best. Love that's a lie is really just called lust. You should get your story straight, hm?"

  Bitch.

  *

  Adam Coo
per wasn't at all what I thought he would be. Light green eyes, tanned complexion and a model-like appearance. He looked almost as if he belonged on the pages of GQ and not as the head of a rag-tag band of bad asses in the heart of Los Angeles.

  "Adam." Joe extended his hand as I stood behind him, my hands clasped in front of my waist.

  He had four guys with him, all of them large, football mother fuckers. If I was a betting man, I'd say his guys were almost perfect matches for the bastards in the alley during Vivian's death, but no... no one was that stupid or suicidal.

  "Don Castaletta." Adam extended his hand, his eyes only for Joe.

  "This is Demetri DeMarco, my right hand. I believe you spoke on the phone?" Joe nodded back toward me.

  I extended my hand and shook Adam's. "Don Cooper."

  "Demetri. Funny enough, I've heard quite a bit about you guys. You're well organized, clean and old school from what my father told me." He smiled and glanced around. "No Izabella with you tonight?"

  The last thing I wanted to do was be caught off-guard by the smug pretty body, and yet him looking for my girl left my muscles locked in place, my breath catching in my chest.

  "She's in the restroom." Joe extended his hand, motioning for them to sit. "Please. Join us."

  The bar Adam had chosen for us to meet at was classy, old school. It fit our persona perfectly, but not so much his.

  "Good. I was hoping I might get a chance to meet her as well." He sat down and ran his hand down the front of his bright blue shirt. "There is a club upstairs with a bit more modern feel to it, but I thought we might start here to talk first and then if you're up for it, we'll head upstairs."

  Joe chuckled low in his chest. "I'm going to let D and Izzy spend the rest of the evening with you. I'm an old man. My time of modernism is all but dried up."

  Adam laughed and shook his head. "Never. My father spoke very highly of you. I can't help but show all of my cards in front of you. I'm surprised that you're here. What do I owe the honor of your unexpected visit?"