For Fallon (Chicago Syndicate)

by Naomi, Soraya

  Damian continues. “She saw the shooting. I didn’t know what to do. Frank panicked. He had an order for that one kill—”

  “What exactly did she witness?” Adriano interrupts.

  “The kill,” Damian confesses.

  Adriano and I briefly glance at each other. We realize the enormity of this screw-up.

  “Damn it, Damian. A woman? What did you do with her?” Adriano demands to know.

  “I brought her here. I had to think quickly. Frank screwed up!”

  “Did Frank kill his target?” I need to know if we’ve bound Frank into silence. If he killed the associate, he can never break the code of silence and secrecy, omertà, without facing murder charges. In other words: we have him by the balls now.

  “Yes,” Damian answers.

  Good.

  We tested Frank on his skill at espionage, obedience, and discretion. He succeeded, but the most important skill that is required to ensure a membership in our Syndicate – kill mercilessly and without any witnesses – he failed at.

  “Did you dispose of the body? Or did you focus all your attention on the witness?” I scowl at both Damian and Adriano. Adriano introduced prospect Frank and thought he would be a valuable member.

  “Body is disposed of and crime scene is clean. She’s the only loose end,” Damian carefully answers.

  I cover my mouth with my left hand.

  “I’m sorry I brought her here, Padrino,” Damian apologizes in a weak voice.

  “You should be.” My tone isn’t giving away any indication of the thoughts roaring through my mind. Stroking my fingers over my chin, I ask, “What was your plan after getting her here?”

  “I don’t know. I…” He takes a deep breath.

  Damian’s concealment of information is starting to worry me. “Tell me exactly what happened. What are you withholding?” I command with thinning eyes.

  He rubs his hand over his forehead. “I smelled booze on Frank.”

  Adriano and I share a surprised look - that he even had the nerve to show up on assignment drunk. “He was drunk?” I calmly probe.

  “I think so. His aim was unsteady,” Damian informs us.

  “You fucking moron. Why didn’t you call me? And where the fuck is Frank!” Adriano yells.

  “I think Frank knows he’s in big trouble. When I came up from the basement, he was sitting in the living room,” Damian expresses quickly.

  I let Adriano handle his soldier, and I wipe my hand over mouth. Glancing at my laptop, I see there’s a woman lying on her back in one of the rooms in the basement. I zoom in and my blood turns ice cold. My pulse is pumping furiously in my ears. Sweat immediately forms on my forehead as I gaze at her. Adriano’s yelling becomes distorted and fades away as my vision is focused on the screen, and everything else goes black instantaneously. There’s a bruise on her face, below her left eye. Her dark hair is a mess, her beautiful red gown is ruined, and the skin on her knees is damaged. Frozen in place, I gaze at Fallon. I blink a few times and zoom in closer, hoping my eyes are deceiving me. But I’m positive it’s Fallon, lying unconscious on the bed. They shackled her. My two lives collide. My heart is being held in a death grip that’s smothering me. Ever so slowly, all my senses come back to me. Shouting invades my ears.

  “Idiota! Get Frank. Now!” Adriano’s still screaming at Damian.

  Damian hurriedly leaves the room.

  Adriano shifts his attention to me as I undo a few more buttons on my dress shirt because I feel suffocated. My brain is trying to comprehend what I just saw. My fist tightens on the desk while I’m transfixed by the image of her unconscious body on my screen.

  “Luca. What is it?” Adriano hesitantly asks.

  I run my hand over my face. Standing up, I say, “It’s her. Il mio amore. She’s the witness.” And grit my teeth before turning the laptop screen toward him in a violent shove.

  His eyes widen the moment he recognizes Fallon. “Fucking shit!”

  I head to the table next to the door to get a drink. Taking the top off of the decanter, I pour a shot of whisky and toss it back, grimacing as the liquid burns down my throat. A million thoughts race through my mind while I need to think and ensure that neither I nor she is endangered further.

  I order Adriano, “Follow Damian to find Frank.” Frank is becoming a liability.

  Adriano gives me a chagrined look. “I told you this would bring trouble,” he mutters as he gets up to leave.

  I stop him by his arm and look him dead in the eye. “Make sure no one has access to her until I figure out what I’m going to do.”

  Adriano returns my steady gaze. “I can change the code after I’ve found Damian and Frank. Until we’ve talked to them, we can still hold off questions. But, Luca, think good and hard before you do anything unwise. As your Capo, but mostly as your friend, I’m telling you to not act on your anger now.”

  Sighing, I let him go.

  As soon as the door closes, I exhale a tormented breath and grip the glass in my hand while anger crawls over my skin, faster and faster. I let my eyelids fall, but all I see are visions of Fallon chained to the bed downstairs. My eyes open, and I hurl the glass across the room. It hits the opposing wall and splinters into a thousand pieces.

  This night has gone from bad to horrific. Fallon finds my other phone and concludes that I’m married. I was supposed to be at her event tonight to ensure her safety, but I couldn’t press my luck with her. She would never have taken me with her after finding the phone. She was already too suspicious of my behavior the past few weeks and that damn message ruined everything for me.

  This power struggle with Leggia has taken up almost all my time, forcing me to be on more business trips away from Fallon, which has increased her suspicion. The image I’ve built around myself to keep her love was already filled with cracks, but the cracks have now expanded into one huge problem we might not overcome.

  When she wouldn’t answer her phone, I would risk everything and put all business on hold to personally ensure that she was safe. Everything I have done has been a desperate attempt to keep her love for me untainted. This work has taken away more and more time I’ve been craving to spend with her. I just never imagined Fallon would be a witness.

  Why the fuck wasn’t she inside?

  I could let her go right now because James hasn’t been informed. Only Frank, Damian, Adriano, and I know we have a captive. But she will go to the police, so I must expose myself to her. I press my thumb and middle finger to my temples as I sit in my chair. With my elbows on my desk, I cover my mouth with one hand while my stare is locked to that basement room that holds the only positive thing in my life. Her body stirs, and I zoom in. My fingertips trace Fallon on the screen, eager to touch her in any way possible. Her legs twitch, her head jerks, and her eyes open and blink to adapt to the light in the room. Her petrified expression shatters me beyond repair. I can’t look at her and think straight, so I walk up to the window, and rake my hands through my hair, clasping my fingers behind my head.

  I told her to be more aware of her surroundings. What the hell was she doing in the back alley alone? I’m furious at her, at myself, at Damian, at Frank. No, I’m not furious at her. She was never supposed to know.

  She will leave me.

  As I turn around, disorder on the laptop screen catches my attention. I hurriedly angle it up to get a better view and grip it harshly. “Motherfucker!” I bellow. The sheer rage and fear boiling inside me bursts into flames. This is exactly what I was afraid of. Fallon is wildly pushing Frank off of her. I storm to my door, but when I reach it, I take a deep breath and remind myself to not raise suspicion with anyone. I can’t slow down. I’m risking everything. Panic and dread fill me. I crash my door open and don’t even bother closing it. I will fucking kill Frank if she’s hurt. Pins and needles are cutting through me while I sprint through the long hall. The house seems to have gotten bigger.

  Adriano blocks my way as I reach the first stairwell and asks, concerned,
“Cosa è successo”? What happened? “Calm down, Luca.”

  “Get the fuck out of my way,” I whisper yell. I jostle him away with both hands, but before I descend the stairs, I look back at a stunned Adriano. “Go close my office door. Subito!” Now! I race down but halt mid stairs when I spot James at the bottom.

  What is he doing back already?

  He wasn’t supposed to be in until tomorrow. Grasping the railing, I’m agitated and ready to blow.

  Stay. Calm.

  I roll my neck as my head is pounding in unease. “James,” I greet as evenly as I can, meeting him at the bottom of the steps.

  James studies my nervous state. “Do we have a problem? I overheard Damian in the living room.” James points his thumb over his shoulder toward Damian, standing in the doorway - who fires me an apologetic look.

  Shit! James knows. Now I can’t release her tonight anymore.

  I glance at the door to my right that leads to the basement and see that door closing; someone just walked in or out. “No, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  James eyes are focused on his phone screen as he distractedly says, “Fine.” He looks up. “You okay?”

  Sweat forms on my brows. “Tired as hell.”

  “Me too. I’m going up. Let’s meet at nine in the morning, son.”

  I nod as he disappears. The front guard enters the living room on the other side of the foyer. “Fuck,” I whisper while clenching my jaw. I wait until the door is closed so nobody can see me going into the basement. The guard shuts that door immediately, leaving the foyer finally empty. I run to the basement door and take the few steps two at a time. Fallon’s in the last room. Ignoring my ringing phone in my pocket, I race to the last room and key in the code to open the door. Frank’s gone, and Fallon has her back to me, a phone pressed to her ear.

  She turns around, her gaze latches on to mine, and the shaken expression on her face tells me that she was calling me. I swallow back my rage when I see blood on her nose and mouth. The phone she’s clutching slips out of her hand and falls to the ground when I inch closer to her. She’s in shock. Her fearful eyes follow my slow movements. Her eyes dart to the phone and then quickly back up to me. She’s going to reach for it because Fallon’s instinct is telling her, correctly, that I’m not here by accident.

  Is that Frank’s phone she’s managed to get hold of?

  We both dash for the phone, and I snatch it up before she touches it. Her bound left hand restrains her, and I close the door quickly before turning back around. She edges away as I stalk toward her. “Fallon.” I approach her like I would a scared child. “I’m here to help you.” Her look of terror and confusion magnifies. My chest achingly heaves from the displeasure simmering below the surface at seeing her in this state.

  I didn’t get to her in time.

  Her entire body is trembling and shaking. “Wh-what’s happening? Why… What are you doing here…”

  How do I get her to trust me? “Fallon, I did not have anything to do with you being here. I didn’t know it was you in here until a few minutes ago.”

  She keeps staring at me. Her shocked expression aimed solely at me. Every negative emotion glints in her fearful eyes.

  “You’re bleeding,” I say quietly and slowly approach her.

  “Don’t come near me,” she warns in a broken voice.

  I drag my hands through my tousled hair. “Fallon, you’re bleeding. I want to check your injuries.” I need to examine the cuts on her knees and the bruises on her face.

  She touches her nose and looks at her bloodied hand. With her bottom lip quivering profusely, her mouth falls open but nothing comes out except for an almost imperceptible gasp. Her eyes are stricken with consternation.

  Resting my forehead on my clenched knuckles, I try to calm myself because I need to regain my composure for her. “Fallon, we don’t have much time.”

  “Why…? What? I don’t understand anything.” Her eyes are overflowing with unshed tears. “Are you getting me out of here?” she asks in a nervous tone.

  I see her mind desperately trying to put together a scrambled puzzle of which she’s missing all the essential pieces. She knows I’m part of this, somehow. Her fear is tangible in the vast silence while she waits for my answer.

  I close the distance between us and splay my hands on the wall on either side of her head. “Listen to me carefully. There are cameras watching this. Do not let on that you know me. That will not work in your favor.”

  She recoils, thinking I’m threatening her. Good. I need her fear to force her into submission now. “You are part of this?” Her voice is infinitely small.

  My brow creases. “No, not the way you think. I can and will help you, but you have to trust me for now.” I ease back to watch her reaction.

  Fallon’s probably going in shock because she’s staring ahead at the door, and her eyes glaze over right before she faints. I catch her and lay her on the bed, lowering myself in front of the bed to check the blood on her face. Frustrated that I can’t find where it’s coming from, I wipe the already-dried blood away with my sleeve. Thankfully, she’s not cut. My barely contained rage storms within me when I stroke the welts on her face.

  “Luca, I’m coming in.” Adriano keys in the code and opens the door. He hands me a first aid kit. “The camera is turned off in here. The house is almost empty. I’ll stand watch at the basement door.”

  I accept the kit, never looking anywhere but at Fallon. “Grazie. Leave the door open.”

  Adriano leaves, and I start to clean Fallon’s face, neck, and hands. My eyes wander over her body. I swallow heavily when they fall on her battered knees and immediately clean the cuts and gently apply antiseptic. She stirs – jerking her left arm - and rejoins our world. “Shh.” I caress her hair. A deep sense of sadness overwhelms me when her fearful expression meets mine and realization of her situation sets in as the last couple of hours flood her memory.

  “What happened?”

  “You fainted. How are you feeling?”

  “Luca, what’s this room? What’s going to happen to me? Please tell me. I’m scared.” The anxiety is rising in her tone.

  I exhale curtly. “Tell me how you’re feeling first, Fallon.”

  “Confused.”

  “Physically, how are you feeling physically?”

  “My knees hurt and my cheekbones too.”

  With all my power, I keep my fingers entwined to prevent from reaching out to her. Relieved that no other parts of her body hurt, I deliver her answers. “I’m not married. You misunderstood that message on the phone. Make a marriage simply means a business merger.” I pause to take in a deep breath. “I’m part of the Cosa Nostra.”

  Fallon gasps.

  “I’m the underboss of this family. You witnessed a hit. My men are never allowed to leave witnesses so they took you. I’ve been protecting you from this life.”

  “Protecting me? By lying to me from the start? Protecting me or yourself?”

  “It has always been about protecting you, dolcezza.” I reach out to her face but she winces.

  “Are you…” She swallows. “You going to kill me?”

  Her question saws at my heart. All the trust we’ve built in the last months vanished by this one night, by these couple of hours that have guaranteed my loss of Fallon. “No, Fallon. I need to find a way to get you out of here.”

  “How do I know this isn’t a ruse? How can I trust you?” Her tone is painted with belligerence.

  The entire night is weighing on my mind, and I don’t have time for her defiance now. “You have no choice, do you?” I counter, unnervingly calm.

  Distress colors her eyes again. She’s smart enough to keep quiet now.

  “I know you must have many questions. Ask them now.” Adriano is guarding the basement, and since the house is empty, I want to be honest with her. Maybe with honesty I can provide her a sense of security. I move to sit beside on the bed with my fingers interlaced between my knees.

&nbs
p; “I don’t know where to begin.” She pauses to formulate her inquiry. “Where am I?”

  “You’re still in Chicago. About one hour from The Loop.” I don’t tell her she’s up north, near Lake Forest. “This is the basement of a house. It’s our headquarters.”

  Fallon licks her dry lips. “Was it all a lie?”

  “No. My work was partly a lie. My feelings, never doubt those.”

  She’s holding in a snort because of her fear. “Who are you?” She never breaks eye contact, but the tremor in her speech is a constant reminder of her fear.

  I reign in my emotions to lay it all out for her methodically. I’m only willing to disclose this information once in order for her to comprehend the seriousness of her predicament. “I’m part of the Chicago Syndicate. James is the Capo crimine, the Don. I’m his underboss. We rule the underworld. I have Capo regimes that work for me and James; they handle the day-to-day business. All the Capi report to me, as the underboss, and I report to James. Adriano, my friend you’ve met, he’s one of the Capi.”

  “Syndicate?”

  “Mafia, Cosa Nostra. We prefer the term Syndicate.”

  Stunned, she tentatively probes, “So you don’t have your own company?”

  “Yes, Adriano and I are silent partners in a legit company.” I pause to check her reaction. “But that company is used to launder money too.”

  “But what exactly do you do for this….”

  “Syndicate?” I fill in her words. “I can’t disclose everything, Fallon. It’s for your own safety that you don’t know the details.”

  Her hand covers her mouth as tears leak down her cheeks. Her gaze snaps to mine. “Are you his son? This James’ son?”

  I privately laugh at her comment. “No, we’re not technically family. We’re a Chicago Crime Syndicate. Contrary to common belief, ranks and affiliations are not hereditary in the Cosa Nostra. None of us are blood related.”

  Fallon shakes her head. “I have so many questions now, but everything is blurred. I’m too shaken up. I’m too scared of what’s to come. What’s going to happen to me?”

  “I need you to fill in some blanks, Fallon.”