Adriano & Cam

by Soraya Naomi

  I stand uneasily in front of the desk, clutching my bag in my hands, not moving a muscle.

  The door creaks open, and I turn, gasping in horror.

  The two guards have returned with Santino squashed between them, his face hanging down, obscured by his long hair. His abused body barely moves. His bare chest is blemished with red lines, welts, and blood.

  Slowly, he raises his head and looks at me with bloodshot eyes. “Camilla.”

  Sal did this to him because he helped me.

  “Look what you did to him, Camilla,” Sal sneers and gets out of his chair.

  “You did this to him!” I counter heatedly.

  “Oh, it talks,” Sal jokes and stands next to me.

  I hold my ground but cringe when he takes a fistful of Santino’s hair and jerks his head back.

  “Say hello to your girlfriend,” he commands with a scorching glare. “It’s such a shame. He’s a good bodyguard, but even he wasn’t immune to your pussy, apparently, which brings me to my point. You’re a desirable lady, and I have a special client for you.”

  “No!” I shrink back and hit the desk. A client to do what? Beat me? Have sex with me?

  “Yes. You’ll meet him, give him what he paid for, and then come back here. If you speak even one word to him”—he chokes Santino with his bare hand, making him splutter blood—“I’ll torture Santino however I see fit for one minute.” He tightens his fingers and lifts his brows, waiting for an answer while a man is being choked to death in front of me.

  Sweat forms on my forehead. “Yes! Okay.”

  He releases Santino, who painfully gulps for air.

  Dampness pools in my eyes.

  “Good girl.” Sal rounds his desk and resumes his place behind it. He points to the flat screen monitor in front of him. “I’ll be watching every second. One word will cost him one minute of torture.”

  The two guards force Santino into a chair, and I can see he’s fighting to stay conscious.

  “I’m warning you, if you even dare to ask for help, I’ll kill Santino and bring you back to the fight club. If you obey, I have a proposition for you afterward. One that will grant you and Santino freedom.”

  Astounded, I watch him. All I can do is oblige, for Santino’s and my own safety.

  “Take her to the other room,” he orders one guard then says to me, “Remove your clothes in the bathroom and wait until your client enters.”

  I’m heaved out of the room and escorted into a private chamber, toward the adjoining bathroom.

  “Thirty seconds to put on the robe, then come back out.” And to my surprise, he shuts the door, permitting me privacy.

  Jumping into action – afraid that any delay will cause Sal to harm Santino – I strip my jeans, shirt, and underwear and tuck my arms into a blue kimono.

  Inhaling a deep breath, I turn the knob and freeze in the doorway when I discover that the client is already inside, trapping me with a distinguishable stare.

  He’s exactly as I remember him: unshaven and his black hair in disarray, as if he’d recently dragged his fingers through the shiny layers. Only, he’s looking at me without his signature smirk. In his black button-up and dress pants, he radiates authority and sex.

  “It’s been a long time, Cam,” Adriano says in a calm, yet intense, tone.

  I swallow, not sure if he wants to strangle me or kiss me. My heart quickens. It’s been nine months since I last saw him, and there’s a force that pulls me to him.

  Elation, sadness, and confusion set in. Elation and sadness because of our past. Confusion as to why he’s my client.

  Is Adriano connected to the fight and sex club? What game are Sal and Adriano playing? Have they joined forces?

  Panic sets in as well – I’m being thrown into a game and am unaware of all the rules.

  CHAPTER 12

  Adriano

  The windshield wipers glide swiftly across the window as I stop my car at the curb, right in front of the ATM where Cam withdrew money a while ago. Thick raindrops fall from the sky.

  The ATM is located on the corner at a small bank that’s closed now. The apartment complexes are in restorative state in this poor neighborhood. Cars pass me, and I check the line of shops across the street. A closed clothing store, an open supermarket, and a tiny café that’s open yet deserted.

  I grab my Smith & Wesson from the passenger seat where it’s lying on my suit jacket and store it in my ankle holster. Stepping out, I shake out my pant leg to hide my weapon properly and run with the rain wetting my dress shirt to the cafe across the street.

  Inside, there’s a teenage barista and two occupied seats. I make my way to the counter and pull Cam’s picture up on my phone.

  “Hey, can I help you?” the barista asks softly and gawks at me when she looks up.

  I smile nicely, holding up my phone with Cam’s face on the screen. “I just have a question. Have you seen this woman today?”

  She checks it, and her eyes round in recognition.

  I lift a brow, waiting for her to spit it out.

  “Yeah, she was here for a couple of hours.”

  “What time?” I press impatiently, eager for as much information as I can get my hands on.

  “I’m not sure, in the afternoon.”

  “When did she leave?”

  “Maybe about an hour ago or longer.”

  “Did she leave alone?” I insist on finding out more.

  “No, she left with a huge man in a black suit. He came in here, and she went with him.”

  “Willingly?”

  “Uhm...yes.”

  “Did they talk? Did you hear anything about where they were going? Names?”

  “Not really. I remember her because she’s so pretty. And she was in here for a weirdly long time.”

  The scenario is forming. She wanted to get caught. And it looks like Fat Sal – whose soldiers walk around like Men in Black – got to her first.

  I throw a fifty onto the counter. “For the information.” And I go back to my car and get in, connecting the phone to the charger and firing the engine simultaneously.

  As I make a U-turn, a car honks when I block its path.

  “Fuck off!” I yell, irritably.

  I’m about to call to inform James when Fat Sal flashes across the smartphone screen.

  “Yes.” I want to check to see if he tells me he has Cam.

  “Adriano, I have some good news for you,” he answers in a friendly tone.

  “Yeah, what?” I’m skating red lights through the pouring rain.

  “I’ve got Camilla Guillermo.”

  My confirmation. “I’m coming, Sal. There better not be a scratch on her. Keep her there. I’m on my way.”

  “We’ll be waiting.”

  I call James quickly.

  “Adriano, where are you?” he asks urgently.

  “On my way back to the Loop. To Club 7. Sal’s soldier got to her before I did. Sal just called me.”

  “Fuck!” He voices his anger. “I’m turning around. Whoever gets there first goes in and takes her away without letting Sal know how important she is to me. Just go along with him and make sure she’s safe!” And he hangs up.

  My only priority is ensuring that she’s not in jeopardy and with me as soon as possible. Beyond that, I don’t let anything interfere with my goal. My anger dissipates at the expectation of finally finding her. Of finally seeing her again.

  ***

  I’m not even sure I locked my car after leaping out. Walking through the long hall of the back entrance of Club 7, I approach the archway where a hostess in a tight black suit expects me to hand over my handgun and knife. The archway is the metal detector, and no one is allowed downstairs with weapons. This is why James ordered me to play along. I’ll be without back-up: no men and no weapon. And we’re definitely on the same page that getting Cam out of here in one piece is my main concern.

  The hostess presses the elevator button, and I descend alone.

  When the d
oors open, Sal’s awaiting my arrival. “Adriano.”

  “Sal.”

  He precedes the way to his office, which is empty, much to my chagrin.

  “Where is she?” My patience is at its limit, knowing that I’m so close to Cam.

  “Third room to the left.” He motions outside.

  “I want to see her.” I don’t care about rank or mafia propriety at the moment. I need to see that she’s okay. But I’m also divulging now how important she is to us. I need to convince him that I just want retribution for the bomb she planted at my headquarters.

  “Camilla’s a little shaken. You can check on her,” he replies with thinning eyes.

  I attempt to get a grip on my state of my mind and capture my Capo role. “I’ll be back to discuss what to do with her.” I need him to believe she’s just a pawn who needs to account for her actions against the Syndicate.

  While a storm of emotions bleed inside my body, I go to the third door on the left.

  The room is empty except for a bed and a boudoir chair, and there’s another closed door – the bathroom. I can hear movement in there, so I close the door to the room quietly after I enter.

  Feet shuffle while I wait with a bizarre sensation in my chest; apprehension and longing.

  The knob turns slowly, and after nine months, I lay eyes on the one woman that’s managed to hold my attention span for longer than a fuck.

  She stands in a satin robe that reveals a sliver of skin and studies me while I boldly scan her from head to toe for injuries, seeing none.

  “It’s been a long time, Cam.” My voice is low because of the lump in my throat as we lock eyes.

  I take a tentative step forward, and she doesn’t speak or move. I can see her emotions flicker across her beautiful heart shaped face. The one face that I can’t seem to forget. After all this time, seeing her hits me harder than I ever thought possible. All our memories come crashing through the tension that’s stifling the room.

  Why is she in a robe and not in regular clothes? What was discussed between Cam and Sal? So many questions arise, but I can’t seem to concentrate when she’s within reaching distance, so I say nothing as I inch closer. She stands her ground, but her glare softens with every step I take.

  Eventually, she comes forward, meeting me, being drawn to me as I’m pulled to her.

  Then, I remember Damian. This afternoon, I found out she slept with another man, a soldier in my organization. And my blood simmers again.

  Why isn’t she talking?

  I swivel her around by her shoulder, and we stand before the full-length mirror hanging on the wall.

  “Cam,” I whisper into her ear from behind, pressing myself against her back, gripping her biceps. “I want to hear your husky voice.”

  Her closeness is playing havoc with my mind, and all the longing for this woman bursts out in a flame of jealousy. Her refusal to speak feeds my rage, and finding her on the same day I discovered she slept with another man is making me want to push her boundaries. All rational thoughts were wiped out the moment I saw her again.

  Her reflection stares back at me, and she’s noticeably struggling inside. Her rigid body exposes her fear.

  My hand slides underneath the edge of the robe that reveals her cleavage, and we both inhale sharply when our skin connects. I palm her breast because I’m unable to control myself while our wills battle with clashing gazes in the mirror. My boiling blood is hurriedly surging south.

  Without thinking, I slide the robe off her lean body and seat her on my lap in the chair behind us, facing the mirror.

  Cam gasps at my sudden movement, and I spread her legs and place them on either side of mine. She’s straddling me, completely naked, with her back to my front. Anxiousness marks her features, but her heavy breaths betray her lust.

  As my hands fondle up her sides and over her breasts, she arches on my lap, and her eyelids fall downwards. I behold her in the mirror, becoming aroused under my touch as she lays her head back against my chest. Both hands move down her stomach, over her inner thighs, the tips of my fingers reaching for her pussy.

  My hardening cock demands to feel her, and I unbutton my pants, freeing myself, and rub the head between her legs.

  “I’ve missed you.” I wrap both arms around her waist and slide my dick over her pussy, probing her. Not reaching inside, just teasing her.

  My god, I’m a fucking masochist; I’m not teasing her, all I’m doing is messing myself up because I’m so close to fucking her pussy and taking back what’s mine. But then the culmination of the entire last two years plus Damian’s revelation bring my sanity back.

  “Why did you do it?” I mutter, burying my nose into her hair.

  Why did you sleep with him?

  I’m fully clothed except for my unfastened slacks, and she’s so wet for me. She bites her lip as a tear leaks from the corner of her eye, and it’s like a bucket of water wakes me up from our lustful liaison.

  Why isn’t she stopping me?

  I stop rubbing my cock against her when reason slowly returns. My head falls forward, lips resting on her shoulder. She’s still shutting me out with her eyes closed, but her hands are on my arms around her middle, holding me in a death grip as if she never wants me to let go.

  Fuck! I need to get moving.

  I whisper against the shell of her ear, “I’m taking you from here. Will you come willingly?”

  Her eyes fly open, full of distress.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, but we need to hurry. Go get dressed and meet me in Sal’s office.” I urge her up by her hips, ignoring the electrical current between us that’s distracting my intention.

  She runs to the bathroom.

  After buttoning my pants, I rake my fingers through my hair to regain some composure. I always let her screw with my mind.

  She needs to get dressed because James was close behind me and could come in here any moment. And if she tells James about this escapade of mine, I’m a dead man.

  I return to Sal’s office. Only, he’s not there.

  “He’ll be back in a minute,” the guard at the door informs me.

  “I’m in a hurry,” I answer, agitatedly checking my watch.

  One minute turns into three, and when Cam also doesn’t enter, worry seeps in. Just as I’m about to get her myself, Sal strolls in.

  “Sorry. Some business needed my attention,” Sal comments.

  I’m about to pass him when Cam appears in washed jeans and a purple shirt. Her pale face relays either fear or disbelief.

  We need to leave now.

  “Well,” Sal says as he plops his oversized body into the leather chair. “You were looking for Camilla Guillermo. I helped you locate her.” He stops when James storms inside.

  They shake hands, but Cam’s watching it all with distrust. Her mouth is set as if she ate something nasty.

  “I was just telling Adriano how I helped you locate Camilla,” Sal repeats to James.

  “Thank you for your cooperation, Sal. But I don’t have much time, and she comes with me to be held accountable for her actions against the Syndicate.”

  James avoids mentioning he owes Fat Sal something since debts are toxic in our business. And we don’t owe him, anyway; something is clearly up between Cam and Sal.

  Sal keeps a straight face and seems a little shocked by James’s refusal to speak of a debt.

  But James is determined and motions for us to follow.

  I gesture to Cam to move when she hesitates, and we walk to the elevator and ascend.

  James and I collect our weapons, and I spot James’s car parked behind mine when we make it outside without any trouble. James and I each let out a ragged breath.

  “Get in, Camilla,” James says and holds open the passenger door for her.

  Cam turns to me, and I think she wants reassurance from me, so I nod.

  “Meet me at headquarters.” He shuts the door while Cam sits with a crease in her forehead.

  I hurry into my o
wn car and curse. “Shit!”

  Now I won’t have another moment alone with her. To tell her that I never told anyone about her scars. To tell her the true purpose of the Syndicate. To give her a little warning about what’s to come.

  I shift the car into drive, hoping she isn’t speaking with James during their ride.

  CHAPTER 13

  Camilla

  I dash off Adriano’s lap and into the bathroom.

  What the hell is going on?

  My flushed mirror image scowls back at me. His touch is still palpable on my thighs and stomach. I’ve missed him with a fierceness I’ve never experienced. And while I’m scared to find out what he has in store for me, he still managed to sexually provoke me within seconds.

  I shake my head and go with my instinct. Between Sal and Adriano, I’d rather leave with Adriano than stay here. But what about Santino? I can’t desert him here. Without him, I wouldn’t have escaped this hellhole in the first place.

  I throw on my clothes but shriek when I look into the mirror and see a hidden door in the wall open behind me, revealing Sal, who covers my mouth with his sweaty hand and drags me to another room.

  It’s a small space, and Santino’s slouching in a chair with the guard next to him.

  Uselessly, I grab Sal’s arm to remove his hand from my mouth.

  “Be still and keep quiet. I didn’t touch you, because you’re more valuable in one piece than you are dead. Listen to me. You did good, didn’t make a sound when you spread your legs for Adriano. You’re more than just a pretty face,” he practically spits in my face.

  Santino’s head is pulled back by his hair. He’s conscious and looks straight at me.

  Sal continues, “This is what’s going to happen. I want someone inside the Chicago Syndicate, and you’re going to be my spy. They’re too powerful and untouchable. I want to know the hierarchy and the drug routes. I want to know who’s the boss there. Adriano, Luca, or James? And you also have a beef with them, I hear, dear Camilla. You planted a bomb at their headquarters. Let me tell you that they’re more infamous in the Cosa Nostra than Club 7. When I finally found you, you led us to the Chicago Syndicate’s headquarters. But because of them, I couldn’t get to you. I was wondering why they gave you twenty-four seven protection while it seemed like you were just an employee at that house.”