by Soraya Naomi
I trail him out and we return to Club 7 in silence.
BY THE TIME ADRIANO and I arrive at the club, it’s past noon. The place echoes with the bustle of employees readying it for the night.
When we pass the bar where a blonde bartender is wiping the counter, Adriano stops and suggests, “Go home, Luca. Be with Fallon and take care of this. I don’t need my underboss distracted by his wife, and I certainly can’t allow her to become a liability to us – if she’s unstable...”
That thought has crossed my mind too. I must keep control of Fallon in order to contain this mess, so I agree, “I’ll go home. You can call me if you need me.”
“Go wind down,” he instructs before continuing to the staircase and ascending it to disappear on the balconied second floor.
I turn back toward the exit, yet as I pass the bartender, I stop when Noah’s face pops into my mind. On top of that, Fallon’s peculiar story is still nagging at me, making fury and confusion overpower every other emotion I’m feeling.
I lean against the bar and pause, yet I still order, “A whiskey.”
The tall blonde freezes in astonishment before she dips down and comes up with a glass and a bottle. I never order alcohol because it weakens me and it’s strictly forbidden for any member to be intoxicated, although having a drink now and then is acceptable. And right now, I’m unable to relax without some assistance.
“Here you go, Luca.” She glides the glass to me.
“Grazie.” Thank you.
I swirl the drink, watching the brown liquid and knowing I should be careful with liquor since I already drank last night.
Then my phone vibrates in my pocket, so I fish it out, seeing Fallon’s name and photo on my screen. Gripping the device, I waver and don’t answer instantly. Aggravated to no end, I take the drink, lift it to my lips, and toss it back instead of picking up because nothing makes sense at the moment.
CHAPTER 12
Fallon
I’M SEATED ON A BAR stool at my kitchen island at six p.m. The silence of the big, empty living room saddens me as I stare at our expansive terrace that offers a sweeping view of the city. The beauty of the lights ordinarily improve my frame of mind, but tonight, they do nothing.
I called Luca three times today, but he didn’t answer, which only reinforces my worries. More importantly, I’ve come to the conclusion that I must’ve accidentally erased the message and I’m pretty sure I’m not confused. Particularly because I feel fine.
Just then, the elevator swishes open, and I jump off the stool when Luca strolls inside. His tie is undone, hanging around his neck, and his hair stands on end as if he’s relentlessly pushed his fingers through it.
Without a word, he sets his keys and phone on the granite counter, scrubbing his stubble-covered jaw as I ask, “Where have you been? I called you several times.”
He glances at his phone. “I was at the club. It was busy.”
Something’s not right. Usually, he kisses me when he comes home, but right now, he has a stoic air about him and there’s a difference in his behavior that’s alarming. I edge forward as I hold his troubled green gaze, yet I can’t decipher his thoughts.
I tentatively stand in front of him, placing my hand on his warm, hard chest, and I press my mouth to his. Although I smell alcohol on his breath, I don’t mention it, longing to feel close to him. Sadly, he doesn’t move at first, but when I rove my palms up his neck, he growls and drags me flush against him with one hand cupping my head and the other my ass. His tongue forces my mouth open and he sweeps inside while squeezing my behind to lift me a little. When I grip his nape, he deepens our kiss, dragging his lips over mine, almost roughly. Yet he stops suddenly, the corners of our mouths touching. Then he presses his forehead against mine as I cling to him, standing on my tiptoes.
“I was worried about you,” I confess, and at last, his unreadable gaze softens, making me somewhat relieved.
“I’m sorry. You don’t need to worry about me. How’s Noah?”
“He’s been happy today.” I try to lighten the mood because I sense something brewing beneath the surface. Luca’s embrace is different. It’s less firm – it feels guarded. “I wanted to bathe him, but he fell asleep. He should wake up soon. They’re both in the bedroom.” Pulling back, I cautiously probe, “Did you find out who the attacker was?”
Luca lets me go and violently yanks off his tie, flinging it on the counter and speaking with his back to me, “I did. He’s a thief and has been convicted for several misdemeanors.” Then he turns around, his stare hitting me like lightning when he adds, “There isn’t a connection between the attacker and the Syndicate.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
This doesn’t work in my favor, and the cynicism in Luca’s eyes seems to be growing as his posture tenses. “Nothing supports your story – do you get that?”
I step back so that he doesn’t tower over me. “Yes, I do, but I’m sure I received a message.”
“From whom then?”
“From someone who’s messing with me, with the Syndicate.”
“And if the message was still on your phone or the attacker not an ordinary thief, I might believe you.”
“So you don’t?” I question.
“It doesn’t make sense, Fallon!” He cradles my face in both hands with desperation, imploring, “Tell me, did Noah get hurt because you were reckless and just went outside without protection and you’re afraid to tell me? If you’re honest now, I won’t be mad.”
My mouth drops open, and I indignantly fling off his hands, countering in disbelief, “No, Luca. You’re jumping to all the wrong conclusions. I don’t have an ulterior motive. I am sure that I left because the message said to meet you – how could I be confused about that? The Syndicate has so many enemies.”
“Then where’s the message?”
“I-I don’t know,” I say while a distance develops between us. “But I’ll find out and show you—”
“No,” he cuts me off in a stern tone. “There’s nothing to find out except why you’re making things up.”
At this point, I become extremely frustrated and throw up my hands. “I’m not making things up! Why are you dismissing my story so quickly? Maybe we should double-check my phone, or your phone? Or dig deeper into the attacker’s past? I understand the other men not believing me, but I thought my husband would back me!”
“I want to back you, but you’re making it difficult for me to do that!” He raises his voice to volumes I’ve never heard. “And now that you’ve told the Syndicate your odd story, you come off as...” Fuming, he swivels around and grips the counter, letting his head drop.
“I come off as what?” I murmur.
Luca expels a loud sigh, looking to the side but not meeting my eyes. “You come off as very unstable.”
But I’m not; however, Luca’s icy attitude shows me that defending myself with words won’t help me any further. Besides, his doubtful stare hurts my soul, and I despise this coldness between us.
So I compromise in hopes of dispelling the tension and hold up my palms in surrender. “Let’s relax.”
His eyes narrow and he proposes, “I think we should visit Dr. Calderone to have you examined again? Maybe you did hit your head?”
What?!
“Um...okay.” Thrown, I don’t even know how to respond, and this is the second that I start to realize that Luca is the one who’s mixed up. He’s looking for answers in the all the wrong places. Still, I oblige, not wanting to argue anymore.
As he leans back against the island, I edge forward to stand between his legs and talk to him in a soft voice to calm him down, just like I do when he comes home stressed. “We can’t turn on each other, Luca. And remember, you’re the one who taught me that nothing is what it seems.”
I wind my arms around his middle, and thankfully, he can’t refuse me and mirrors the action, ensconcing me in the shelter of his arms.
“I don’t want to fight. We’ll go to Marc,
but don’t be mad at me or ignore my calls, please. I worry so much when you do that. You have to let me protect you too.”
Strengthening his hold, he kisses my forehead. “I need to protect you.”
“No, we protect each other. I told you that I know how this mafia world works. Also, I’ve decided to carry my gun with me at all times from now on.”
His brows rise and his lip twitches as his body unwinds little by little. “You need to be more vigilant.”
“I will,” I promise and simply because I need to take Luca’s mind off this obscure situation, I suggest, “Can you order dinner, and afterward, we’ll bathe the twins?”
He nods as he releases me and reaches for his phone on the kitchen island while I round the couch and sit down, taking my cup of tea from the coffee table.
“We’re having dinner at Adriano’s tomorrow night, by the way,” he comments, yet I zone out.
Unfortunately, I can’t forget the shady circumstances of Sunday, and I deliberate how I can uncover the truth because I’m positive that someone’s messing with my family.
CHAPTER 13
Fallon
“HEY, GUYS. COME IN.” Cam widens the door, inviting Luca and me into her luxurious loft that’s only a fifteen-minute drive from our penthouse.
Luca leads the way inside and places the twin car seat with our sleeping babies on the couch before he unzips their jackets. As always, he looks impeccable in his brown slacks and tailored navy dress shirt that shows off his tall, honed frame – there isn’t a trace of his tousled appearance of the previous night.
Feeling sad, I turn to the flurry of activity around the cherry dinner table that’s situated by the floor-to-ceiling windows which overlook Lake Michigan. The entire Syndicate’s present, and I notice Michael dressed in his customary black attire sitting next to Adriano at the head of the table, which is strange because ordinarily, no one but the inner members attend these dinners at the boss’s apartment.
“Buonasera.” Good evening. Adriano greets us, gesturing to the vacant spots to his left.
Luca slides out my chair, so I take a seat while conversation carries on and Cam, who’s positioned across from me, mouths, “You okay?”
I dip my chin as the fragrant smell of a spicy tomato sauce wafts around, and just then, Carmine and Michael bark out a huge laugh. All gazes land on Carmine when he plops down next to Cam, saying, “She’s qualified.”
“Qualified?’ Henry repeats with a smirk. “I don’t think that’s what Michael was thinking when he was staring at her.”
Michael’s lips turn down and he defends, “She was in my line of sight. I wasn’t staring at her.”
Henry shrugs, laying his arm on the back of his wife Mary’s chair and sweetly pulling her close.
“Who was Michael ogling?” Cam asks, and Michael sends her a feigned scowl.
“The new pastry chef,” Adriano replies.
“You hired the woman I saw?” A look of amusement crosses her face as Adriano nods. “And by the way, all the men were gawking at her...”
Mary and Eva mock glare at their significant others, Henry and Carmine.
“Well, everyone but Luca because he wasn’t there,” Cam adds, focused on Michael and casually sipping her red wine.
Luca told me that he was at the club all evening yesterday.
Did he lie to me?
My gaze fires to Luca as he coolly swallows an olive, his green eyes crinkling at the way they’re teasing Michael. Either he doesn’t realize Cam just outed him or he’s hiding it very well, which is a good possibility.
I blink profusely until Cam gets up and wanders alongside the windows toward the kitchen, and I go after her.
As she opens the fridge and brings out a bowl of salad, I grab utensils from the top drawer to supposedly help her and probe, “Did you go back to the club yesterday?”
“Yeah,” she responds, taking the spoons from me. “Adriano was alone in his office anyway since he told Luca to go home.” Then she saunters to the table as the murmurs fade to the background.
I fight back tears with my attention fixated on Luca’s skillful façade, realizing my husband has been dishonest for the first time in our marriage.
But why? Is he that worried that I might be lying?
As I return to my seat, I bite my tongue. Although I’m upset, I keep the newfound information to myself.
In that second, I catch Adriano and Carmine evaluating me from the corner of my eye just as, all of a sudden, Adriano changes topics. “Since everyone’s here, I have an announcement, which is the reason why Michael’s here. We’ve decided to set up a new team to guard the family members. Each wife will have an appointed guard. Mary, yours stays the same. And since Michael is transferring back to the Chicago Syndicate, he’ll be our head guard and sixth in rank. He’s recruiting new men, and he’ll work closely with them and you. So this week, he’ll set up appointments with each of you to see which guard fits your daily schedule best. This is just a more structured way to protect everyone – we have to communicate well with our guards to make sure no incidents occur.” He doesn’t glance my way, but I’m sure it was directed at me.
Meanwhile, Luca pours me a glass of limoncello as though everything between us is fine, and I wonder what, exactly, a new guard entails. I also note that Luca doesn’t drink whiskey in front of the men, but I’m sure he has started drinking since he reeked of alcohol last night. Usually, Luca never drinks because liquor has a bad effect on him. More importantly, it’s not allowed for members to be influenced by drugs or alcohol. Did he maybe do something stupid? Was he drunk? Every action of his makes me question his intentions more.
“Do you mean we’ll have protection all the time now?” I ask.
“Yes, you’ll have a guard at your disposal twenty-four seven,” Adriano answers and then motions for Michael to continue.
“After I’ve spoken with all of you, Adriano and I will choose someone you’re comfortable with. It should be a man you feel you can and will trust. If any issues arise, you can contact me directly, since I’m the head guard.” Then he addresses me, “Fallon, I’d like to speak with you first, and while we interview someone for you, I’ll be your main guard.”
Oh, my god, I’m getting a high-powered babysitter?
“Why?” I blurt out, and Luca glowers at me yet masks it before anyone witnesses it.
Then, with composure, he rests his palm on my thigh, the heat of his grip seeping into my skin through the burgundy maxi skirt I’m wearing, and says in a gentle voice, “To help us protect you and the twins better.”
But his hard expression advises me to not second-guess or defy him in public. And I start to understand that when things are good, Luca’s possessively caring and protective, but when things are bad, Luca’s controlling, dark side becomes scheming and dominant.
Timidly, I peek around the table, and suddenly, everyone looks away from us. It seems that they all fear that I’m unstable because I told them my side of the story yesterday. Despite how hurtful everyone’s aloof behavior toward me is, I don’t intend to argue with this decision. Don’t they know that I want my kids to be safe too? And if that can only be accomplished with guards because of our way of life, so be it.
“Okay, Michael will be my main guard, for now,” I agree to prove to Luca that I’m not confused or lying to him, but more importantly, that I have nothing to hide.
At last, he relaxes a bit and leans back in his chair, the corners of his lips curling up. I tangle our fingers in my lap, and thank goodness, he doesn’t pull back. Then a warm sensation flares up in my gut when he resolutely squeezes my hand. With everything I have, I try to not let anything break our bond – even the terrible event of Sunday. Although the need to clear my name has become stronger.
Cam interrupts my jarring thoughts when she comments, gesturing around the table, “Guys, eat before the spaghetti gets cold.”
Adriano starts plating up, so I ask Michael, “When did you want to talk to me?�
�
“How about we meet tomorrow at noon at your penthouse?”
I nod as Luca’s thumb circles my hand while conversation carries on, and we end up enjoying a pleasant evening. With the others present, it seems that nothing’s outwardly amiss between Luca and me.
But on the inside, I’m afraid he might be amping up security because he’s unintentionally distancing himself from me. The importance to discover the truth about Noah’s accident has just multiplied, and I gaze around the table at the men and their spouses, wondering who can help me.
CHAPTER 14
Fallon
ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, I go to work with Luca because he’s asked Dr. Calderone to meet us there since he doesn’t have time to stop by the hospital.
I trail Luca as he walks inside the empty dance club, and when we spot Marc across the room and head toward him, he meets us halfway.
“Good morning,” he greets both of us, and I don’t even get the chance to unbutton my white wool coat before he looks at Luca, bringing up his mobile and hurriedly saying, “I have to keep this short. Emergency at the hospital. But I did read all of Fallon’s test results, and I can still rule out a concussion.”
Wait a minute. Luca has already informed Marc about what happened? I thought we’d do that together. Sadly, this is another red flag indicating that Luca’s starting to doubt me and might be slipping away.
“We can do more tests; however, if you haven’t been dizzy, it’s not necessary.”
“I’ve been dizzy a few times...” I answer without thinking, making Luca’s gaze snap to me as a frown crosses his face. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Let me finish. I’ve been dizzy a few times, but those were head rushes.”
“How can you be sure?” Luca’s green eyes pale while his body coils tight, and I realize I shouldn’t have said this in front of Marc. Irately, Luca motions to Marc. “He’s told you repeatedly to tell us if you’re feeling dizzy.” His nostrils flare.
