by Soraya Naomi
“So there were two other intruders in the club,” Adriano muses aloud, realizing Logan’s captive told the truth.
“Where does the underground eventually lead to? And didn’t we brick that route over already?” I question.
“It leads to the L station. And no, I never had it bricked over.”
“Then we’re going there now!” I order, pointing to the guy. “He comes with us.”
“No,” he protests but stops when I cup his chin, digging my fingers into his cheek.
“You chose to come into my territory and endanger my wife,” I hiss. “So I’m going to keep you close until I find her. And if she has even one scratch, I’ll burn you alive.” Shoving his face away, I stride to my car parked at the curb. “Now let’s move!”
Logan and Adriano lock eyes and Adriano nods, knowing I won’t rest until I have Fallon. I fish for my keyless entry device in my pocket and click it when I reach my car, ripping open the door and jumping inside. Adriano occupies the passenger seat and Logan pushes our hostage into the back as I fire up the engine and jam the gearshift into drive, stepping on the gas and leaving the alleyway with screeching tires.
Without hesitation, I turn left toward the station, changing lanes to skate through traffic. I can see Adriano studying me out of the corner of my eye as I loosen my bow tie and fling it aside, feeling more suffocated every second Fallon’s not with me safe and sound.
“Luca, she’s with Tez. She’s not alone. We’ll find her, amico mio.” My friend.
I meet his empathetic stare, realizing he understands perfectly well that there’s a storm brewing inside me. Adriano would go mad if his wife was on the run.
Ignoring a red light, I grip the steering wheel and maneuver my vehicle through the icy January streets. When I reach the train station, it’s packed, so I park at the curb when Adriano motions out the window. “The underground corridors end somewhere around here.”
Leaping out of my car, I survey the area, checking the street for manholes, and beside the second one I pass, I see something glistening from the light of the yellow street lamps. I bend down and pick up one of Fallon’s gold drop earrings.
“Luca, what is it?” Adriano inquires as he stops beside me, and I unclench my hand to show it to him.
“It’s Fallon’s,” I almost shout in frustration, scouring the area but not seeing her, the earring scalding my skin as my panic triples.
Then, without thinking, I retrace my steps to the car and Adriano follows me. After we get in, I start it, checking my rearview mirror and pulling out onto the road as I ask our captive, who Logan’s holding at gunpoint, “Where did you meet to receive your orders?”
Logan slides his finger over the trigger. “Answer him.”
He brings up his palms in surrender. “A-at a bar on Monroe Boulevard. He gave me my instructions in his office in the back.”
I take the turn and race through an intersection, going five more blocks and parking when he gestures toward the glass doors of a stylish establishment called Nostalgia, which isn’t what I was expecting.
“Logan, stay with him,” Adriano commands before we both get out of the vehicle.
Upon entering the swamped bar, I march toward the back, to the office of the person I need to chat with, and I bang open the door, which Adriano closes behind me.
An overweight black-haired man lurches up from behind his desk as I go to him, pushing him down into his seat with a palm bracing his neck.
“Who the hell are you?!”
Lightning fast, I reach inside his pocket and take out his leather wallet to throw it to Adriano, who catches it in one hand and flips it open.
“Mr. Rudd, we need to talk,” Adriano starts, flinging the wallet onto the desk and glancing sideways to a sabre hanging on the wall. Then he grins maliciously and takes it down, and I know precisely what he’s thinking because in our world where only the toughest survive, I’m used to exercising power with violence. This is what Adriano and I thrive on.
Adriano strolls back to stand in front of the desk, yielding the long silver sword and aiming the sharp end at Rudd’s chest as he continues with an exasperated expression on his face, “We have a problem. Why did you send three men to Club 7?”
Rudd tries to wrench free from my hold, and I dig my fingers harder into his neck.
“Ahhh! Tell your guy to back off,” Rudd rasps.
“No,” Adriano answers evenly, sabre in place but not piercing the man’s skin. “Why did you send men into my club?”
“Okay, okay. It wasn’t my doing; we’re just the middlemen. I was simply following orders.”
“From whom?” I demand.
“I don’t know who the client is. There have been elaborate anonymous communication channels put in place, and I was given an envelope to give to three men who were to execute the instructions inside without a hitch.”
“Execute what instructions?” Adriano asks, perplexed, before I get a chance to.
“I don’t know,” he protests, testing my ability to stay calm.
I grab Rudd’s hair, tugging it back and stretching his neck as Adriano skims the sword up to his throat, and I speak in a low voice, “Don’t lie to us. You must know something about the man who contacted you.”
Rudd’s heavy breaths become more sporadic, but he remains quiet, earning him a blow to his nose, and blood streams down his lips and chin as I release his hair.
Adriano lets the tip of the sabre rest on the desk and stares off into the distance, gritting out, “Luca isn’t a patient man, so I’d answer if I were you. Your men have gone after his wife!”
Rudd grimaces from the pain. “I have nothing to do with that. Who the fuck are you?”
I crack my knuckles, still standing next to Rudd’s chair.
“It doesn’t matter who we are,” Adriano states. “I need information or you’re coming with us until we find my friend’s wife. And I’d advise you not to underestimate the lengths we’ll go to for her.”
Rudd’s about to protest, so I grab his collar and haul him up, crashing him against the wall. “Who fucking gave you your orders?!”
“I-I don’t know,” he stammers, sticking to his story, although I’m not sure he’s not being honest.
My fist connects with Rudd’s mouth. “Do you know now?”
Rudd spits out blood. “No...”
I pull him forward slightly and punch him once more before letting him go, and he slouches against the wall as Adriano throws the sword aside, making it clank on the floor.
“We’re taking him with us,” I grind out.
Rubbing his palm across his jaw, Adriano nods and reaches around his waist to retrieve his gun before he goes to Rudd and presses it into his side. “Move or I’ll shoot you.”
I open the door and indicate for Rudd to go out with us as Adriano adds in a menacing tone, “Don’t even think about signaling anyone, because I will shoot you in the crowded club. Because we’re the Chicago Syndicate, motherfucker.”
Rudd’s eyes widen so that whites are entirely visible, and with a grunt, he trails me while Adriano pushes his pistol into his back, walking close behind him. Due to the swarm of people, no one pays us any attention and we quickly slip out of the building, turning left toward my car where Adriano shoves Rudd into the back seat. Then he and I jump in and Adriano turns to keep his aim leveled at Rudd while Logan continues to hold the other man at gunpoint.
After pulling out onto the road, I speed back to Club 7 under the dark clouds of an oppressive night, and I call Henry to ask him if either Tez or Fallon has returned, but much to my chagrin, both of them remain missing.
By the time I park at Club 7’s back entrance, clashing emotions rage a war inside me as Adriano and Logan get out and take the hostages with them. Irritated, I follow them back inside.
“Lock them in separate rooms downstairs,” Adriano orders two guards as he and Logan hand over the prisoners.
At that moment, the door to the main club opens and Henry
appears. “What happened?”
“We don’t have Fallon yet,” Adriano answers.
“Shit. If I stay any longer, we’ll have to tell Mary.”
Adriano raises an eyebrow in question, and I shake my head that I can’t go in and act normal right now.
“Okay, go with Mary. We’ll say goodbye in a hurry, so she won’t even notice Luca and Fallon’s absence.” Then Adriano addresses me, “Luca, stay here. I’ll be back in five and we’ll talk about a plan of action,” before he eases through the doorway.
I run both my hands through my hair, spinning around when the back entrance opens to see Tez shifting inside slowly while carrying Fallon in his arms, her head lolling back. And as I rush toward them, my world slows and comes to a full stop, my heart ceasing to beat.
“What the hell happened?” I demand, loathing that another man has his hands on my wife. So I take her from him, noticing how heavy she feels, like she’s unconscious or maybe worse.
“Fallon?!” I shout, falling to my knees with her in my arms.
“She hit her head and it knocked her out,” Tez explains, hunching down before us and reaching for Fallon’s mahogany hair, but my hand shoots out to capture his wrist and I warn, “Don’t touch her!” Then I let him go and steady her on one arm, cradling her face that’s stained with streaks of dirt to check her pulse.
“Is she breathing?” Tez asks.
Tears blur my vision as unparalleled terror courses through me.
CHAPTER 4
Fallon
“DON’T TOUCH HER!” I hear Luca snarling to someone while I’m trapped in blackness.
“Is she breathing?”
There’s a pounding in my head as I come to, but when my eyes fly open, I blink against the light. Then I’m pulled into a firm hug against a muscular chest and I instantly recognize Luca’s familiar citrus cologne which centers me. I get my bearings, seeing the Andy Warhol posters on the wall, and realize that we’re seated on the floor of Club 7’s back entrance and I’m sprawled halfway on my husband’s lap.
“Luca,” I whisper.
He pulls back and almost angrily cups my cheek, forcing my gaze up. His green irises are storming with worry. “Are you okay?”
I try to sit up, but I get dizzy, so Luca keeps his strong hold on me, adding, “Don’t move yet. What happened, Fallon?”
I touch my throbbing temple where a bruise is forming, feeling some dried blood, and I notice the dirt under my fingernails as I reply, “A couple of men were chasing us, so we escaped through the underground area. Then we ended up at the station where I lost my balance and fell.” Only now do I note Tez standing next to us, and when we lock eyes for a second, I feel Luca’s body coil tight and I wonder why. “I don’t know what happened...”
Tez elaborates. “A car almost hit you, so someone pushed you out of the way and you hit your head when you fell. I brought you back here.”
“Oh, I wasn’t unconscious. I knew I was being moved,” I tell them as my mind begins to settle, and when I recall the entire evening, I jump out of Luca’s arms. Yet I sway, still a bit unstable.
Luca leaps up and steadies me before Tez has a chance to touch me. I catch Luca sending him a warning glance; however, I’m preoccupied with other thoughts.
“Where are our kids?” I anxiously ask Luca.
“They’re fine. They’re with Cam in the office, which is being guarded.”
“Oh, thank god. I want to see them.” I edge closer to Luca, and he nods, bracing my cheeks and pressing a soft kiss on my lips.
Being together again, we’re able to relax until we slowly break apart and Luca tucks me into the shelter of his side, hugging me as he says with a fraught undertone, “Let’s go to the twins. But I also want the Syndicate doctor to examine you to ensure you don’t have a concussion or anything else.”
Without waiting for a response, he kisses the top of my head, and right before we proceed down the hall, I remember to look back and say, “Tez, thank you.”
He dips his chin and smiles amiably as Luca ushers me through the doorway. We rush across the almost empty dance floor to find that Henry and Mary and most of the guests have left, and everything looks normal. Clearly, there was no trouble inside the club.
Within seconds, we enter Adriano’s office where he and Cam are standing around the portable baby bed.
“Fallon?!” they both exclaim in obvious relief.
“I’m fine,” I assure them before they get a chance to start firing off questions and hurriedly go to my twins, peering down into the bed to see them sleeping. Furtively, I let out a sigh just as Luca stops behind me.
Leaning down, I take out Milana, and while I cuddle her small body close to my chest, Luca pecks the crown of her head. A tear escapes the corner of my eye as my brain copes with the ordeal of the past hour.
Gently, Luca swipes the moisture away with the pad of his thumb and studies me with a look of absolute admiration coupled with utter fear. Both contradictive emotions are displayed on his features, which are usually tightly controlled.
“I want to go home,” I whisper.
But Adriano interrupts, “Luca, we should talk about what to do with our captives.”
“Not tonight, Adriano,” he answers, dipping down to pick up Noah before strapping him into the twin baby car seat that’s situated on Adriano’s desk. “I’m taking my wife and kids home. Send Dr. Calderone over to examine Fallon. Just keep the captives in the underground and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
Adriano assesses us with empathy and eventually, he nods right when Cam asks, “But are you okay, Fallon?”
“Yeah. I escaped through the underground and got out at the station, but I hit my head, so I’m fine except for a bruise.”
Luca takes Milana from me and straps her in next to her brother. Just seeing my babies’ cherub faces has a reassuring effect on me.
“Thank god. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Cam says, looping her arms around my shoulders and murmuring, “Nothing happened with the twins; Adriano and I will always protect them. I’m so glad you’re okay too.”
Pulling back, I smile at her in gratitude. She’s the only one who can truly relate to how I feel because she’s the boss’s wife and her daughter always needs protection as well. Lightly, she squeezes my shoulder and Luca takes the car seat and beckons me to him. Entangling our hands, he leads the way out with large strides, undoubtedly eager to return the twins and me to the safety of our apartment.
AN HOUR LATER, WE’RE inside our four-thousand square foot Blackhall penthouse apartment that features two large bedrooms and is decorated in warm off-white and brown colors with tall ceilings and a huge outdoor terrace.
After Luca places our babies in the cribs in our bedroom, I take a quick shower and wrap myself in my white satin robe. Back in the living room, I sit on our beige U-shaped couch as Marc Calderone, who’s a doctor at Northwestern hospital that works for the Syndicate, finishes examining me. One final time, he touches my temple and I wince while downing the painkiller he’s given me as Luca takes the remote from the coffee table and pushes a button so that the ivory curtains covering the expansive windows draw closed.
In his soft doctor’s voice, he says, “It didn’t bleed much. How long were you unconscious?”
“I don’t think I was unconscious. I was just out of it for a moment from the blow or something, and then Tez lifted me up and I got woozy. But I feel fine now except for the headache and some scratches,” I explain while Luca stands behind the doctor impatiently.
“I think we should do a CT scan because it’s strange that while you think you were merely out of it, the man who helped you thinks you were unconscious. Either way, it seems that you were quite dizzy for longer than a moment, so I just want to make sure you don’t have a head injury.”
“We’ll drop by Northwestern first thing in the morning,” Luca puts in when Marc gets up and shakes his hand.
“Come to my office at eight, and I’ll take Fallon to radiology.”
“Okay, Marc.”
He dips his chin and crosses the room toward the elevator to let himself out while Luca stays with me as I rise, and at last, we’re alone.
Without saying a word, I start to cry to release my warring emotions, and he hooks his arms around my middle, embracing me in such a way that makes me feel protected. Luca nuzzles my hair while we stand motionless, needing to take some time out to fight our demons of distress, and meanwhile, the medicine soothes my aching head.
Eventually, he releases me and demands to know, “Why did you go to the underground, Fallon?”
“I was going to the office, but Tez saw me by the back entrance just when the intruders were there. Since he knew I was your wife, he got on the elevator with me to take me up, but it went down instead because someone had pushed the button and called it. Then when the men spotted us down there, we ran and Tez got me out. He did protect me.”
Luca grunts, seemingly pleased yet also aggravated, but that most likely stems from the fear he experienced. “When were you down there exactly? I was also looking for you.”
“I knew it was you!” I state. “We were hiding behind the door, thinking you were one of the intruders at first.”
“Fuck!” He plows his hands through his hair, tousling the strands, yet it remains a perfect untamed mess. “So I could’ve prevented this!”
I palm my forehead. “Let’s not go down that path. You did what you could.” Trying to steer the conversation in a different direction, I ask, “So what actually happened? The underground was raided but not the club itself? Were you with the twins the entire time?”
“No, Cam was with them and we found the man who was giving the intruders their orders. But it had to do with the sex club, which we’re shutting down.” Waving his hand, he discounts these concerns for now. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
Good. I’m also not in the mood to discuss Syndicate business. I’m just happy my family is together and safe, but my hands keep trembling because once you have children, you understand what it is to love something more than yourself.
