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For the Love of Luca (Chicago Syndicate Book 8) by Soraya Naomi (5)

CHAPTER 5

Luca

––––––––

“DON’T GO, LUCA. DON’T leave us,” Fallon requests in a vulnerable voice, catching me off guard.

Not once has she ever asked me to stay with her, and the earnest look on her heart-shaped face softens me. Although I’m not used to disregarding my boss and the thought of doing so unnerves me.

Torn, I waver in decision-making, but my heart wins out when I glance at my kids, so I kiss Fallon’s forehead. “I’ll never leave you alone, dolcezza,” I vow and spoon her tighter.

“Thank you,” she mutters, stroking her fingertips down my jaw, marginally comforting the mafia man that resides inside me before she turns to the babies, who are both snoozing hard.

Fallon rests her palm on Noah’s round stomach, and I place my hand over hers so that we’re all connected. In the quietness of the evening, I stare at Fallon in her customary white satin nightgown. White is serene, calm, and innocent; just like her, and lying next to her manages to soothe me in a way only her presence can.

I wait for Fallon to fall asleep while I watch over my three loves. For several minutes, I merely memorize Noah and Milana’s smiles while I press my lips to Fallon’s hair and inhale her sweet ambrosia scent. I hold her firmer to me than usual because I was afraid she’d been ripped from me earlier tonight. A fate so devastating that I can’t even fathom it.

Eventually, when Fallon’s breathing has settled, I roll to my back and get my phone. In essence, Fallon has only managed to contain the killer inside me, but the need to take control over this situation that shouldn’t have occurred is still profoundly strong. While I’ll never leave her if she asks me to stay, I’m unable to refrain from replying to Adriano.

I send a message to my boss, who’s more like a brother, so I know he’ll understand the way I feel.

Luca: Fallon wants to be present when we discuss what happened and our plan of action. And I do think I should keep her updated more, but not about everything. I don’t want her seeing me interrogate our captives tomorrow because I’m out for blood. Also, I want to talk to Tez alone, before Fallon’s at the meet.

Adriano: Cam also wants to be there, which I’m not happy about. I’d rather keep her and my daughter away from the Syndicate, so of course we’ll protect them however we need to. I’ll call you in the morning, supposedly for other business, and then you can come in alone. First, we’ll talk to Tez and interrogate the two fuckers. And we also need to inform the employees about the sex club before Cam and Fallon join our meet.

Luca: Okay. Text me around nine. I’m going to the hospital with Fallon first.

Adriano: She okay?

Luca: Yes, Marc said it’s just a precaution to ensure she doesn’t have a head injury.

Adriano: Okay. I’ll text you at nine a.m.

After reading Adriano’s last message, I chuck the device onto the nightstand and press my front firmly against my wife’s back, molding her luscious curves into mine.

This is who I am. This is how I take care of business, how I keep control: I protect what’s mine however I feel is best. Sometimes that means omitting things for the safety of everyone involved.

Nevertheless, I fall into a fitful sleep, unsettled about the danger that surrounded my family tonight.

***

I AWAKEN WHEN MY DAUGHTER, who’s now lying next to me, starts fretting and notice that Fallon’s gone. She must have switched Noah and Milana’s positions.

Needing to at least hear my wife’s voice, I yell, “Fallon?”

“In the kitchen! Heating the milk for the babies.”

“Okay,” I say, relieved because I don’t like waking up without her in my arms.

Apparently, I conked out with the babies in the bed, and I see that Fallon has placed large pillows on the other side so that they won’t roll off.

Milana demands my attention with her cute sounds that are like music to my ears.

Buongiorno, figlia mia.” Good morning, my daughter.

Even after three months, I still can’t believe that the sweetest twins in the world are mine. When I turn to my side, she directs a wide smile at me.

“Milana,” I speak quietly and rub my hand over her belly, which she obviously adores since she makes soft noises while kicking her legs. Then she wraps her tiny hand around my pinky and her fingers don’t even touch.

Every morning, I play with my twins before the havoc of the day begins. It’s true that becoming a parent greatly changes a person. But having Milana and Noah hasn’t softened me, it’s only strengthened my resolve to shield my family from harm. It shows me love in the truest form – parental love, something I’ve never experienced as an orphan myself.

Confronted with Milana’s auburn hair and her innocent gaze upon me reminds me of Fallon, making me need to see her, and at that moment, she enters the room with two bottles in hand, asking, “Are they up?”

I scan the bruise on her temple. The swelling has gone down and it’s less purple, thank god.

“Milana is,” I answer, but she’s already smiling at our daughter.

The mattress dips as she sits on the edge at my hips and bends over me to place a kiss on Milana’s forehead. “Hey, pumpkin.”

“That baby voice of yours is comical and a bit creepy,” I tease.

“You just hate it that she smiles more at me than you,” Fallon retorts.

“You wish. Let’s see what she says first: mommy or daddy?”

“Well, you repeat daddy so often that you drill it into them as if they were your soldiers,” Fallon counters before pressing her lips to mine, but as she pulls back, I cup the back of her head and deepen the kiss for a moment. Then she addresses Milana, “You love it when daddy rubs your tummy, don’t you?”

Milana revels in all the attention, beaming and wriggling her tiny limbs.

“I’ll feed her,” I offer, taking the bottle from Fallon, and while Milana drinks hungrily, I ask, “How are you feeling?”

“Good. No headache,” she replies, resting her hand on my chest and stroking it.

“We have to go to the hospital. You get ready and I’ll feed Noah and call the babysitter.”

“Okay.” She stands up as I watch her walk to the bathroom, looking delectable in her sheer nightgown, and I continue feeding my kids so that we can leave soon.

***

AFTER THE CT SCAN HAS been done, Fallon and I sit across from Dr. Calderone in his pristine office that smells of disinfectant at Northwestern hospital. He has some additional questions, which strikes me as odd.

While leaning forward with his elbows on his desk, he instructs, “Ask Tez why he believes Fallon was out the entire ten-minute run back to the club when he carried her. Did he talk to you during that time, Fallon?”

“No, I don’t think so. I was just weak in his arms. And I did feel like a limp doll, so it must’ve appeared to him as if I was unconscious,” Fallon responds, and Marc knits his brows.

“Why do you want me to ask Tez?” she inquires before I get a chance to.

“Because it would concern me if you were unconscious for that long. But I’ll have the results within a day, and I’ll call you as soon I get them. Just let me know what Tez says. It is a good sign that you feel well and that the bruise on your temple is healing fast, so it could very well be that you just hit a soft spot, which messed with your balance.”

At that moment, right on cue, my phone beeps and I get it out of my pocket to read a message from Adriano summoning me to the club. When I show it to Fallon, she smiles at me.

“We’ll talk to Tez later,” I tell Marc as I rise, and when I hold out my hand, Fallon gives me hers and I entwine our fingers. “We have to go.”

“If you feel dizzy again, you call me, Fallon.”

“I will. Thank you for handling all of this,” she says, and I grin at Marc, whose eyebrows hit his hairline – this is his job and he gets paid royally by us for his discretion, and we are not men who thank people on our payroll.

“Anytime, Fallon,” he replies as I escort her out of the office, and we take the staircase to the ground floor.

“Adriano needs me to come in, so I’ll drop you off at home, and you and Cam can join us later, okay?”

“Sure,” she answers without questioning me, trusting me entirely and further fortifying my love for her.

***

AN HOUR AND A HALF later, I’m inside Adriano’s office at Club 7, interrogating Tez.

I stand across from him in front of the desk, looking down since he’s inches shorter than me, and start, “I want to know exactly what happened from the second you discovered there were intruders to when you returned with Fallon.”

Calmly, he relays, “I forgot my burner phone, which is why I came to the club. But I knew the wedding was happening, so I came in the back door to avoid disturbing the guests. When I was about to leave, I saw a suspicious looking guy staking out the entrance of the alley, and he sprinted toward me when he spotted me. That’s when I jumped back inside and ran into Fallon in the hallway. We got into the elevator, but it took us down instead of up – the men were already somewhere in the sex club. We hid, but Fallon was seen and one of the guys ordered the other to kill us, so we ran.”

I clench my fist.

“And I didn’t have a gun, which is why we were forced to go deeper into the underground. Then I remembered you talked about how it came out at the L station eventually, which it did, and we climbed out via a pipe. But they were on our heels, and while I was standing on the manhole cover, I saw Fallon losing her balance, and she hit the sidewalk after a pedestrian pushed her out of the way. I picked her up and hurried back to the club, where you saw me when I entered with her. The other two men didn’t follow us.”

Taking a step back, I consider his story and am appeased slightly because his version coincides with Fallon’s.

Adriano then sums it up, “That means there were three men who were ordered by Rudd to raid Club 7. And the person who originally called Rudd obviously wants something from the underground, which narrows our list of suspects to sex club clients. We have both the man who was staking out the alley and Rudd in custody. And although we haven’t fully interrogated them, they claim to not know who contacted them; it’s all anonymous, so it’s someone with connections or maybe even power.”

Tez seems lost in thought, brushing his hand through his brown hair but freezing suddenly as if he’s had a lightbulb moment. “It could be related to the last issue we had in the sex club, but that wasn’t with a powerful client. It was just some average businessman who was a little too rough with a girl and believed he was entitled to be so with his coked-up mind. I banished him from the club.”

“Yeah, but we’ve also had other issues, so look into all of the clients involved in any of them,” Adriano advises before he catches my gaze. “But what would someone want from the underground or be doing there?”

“It’s also possible someone left something valuable behind,” I put in, unbuttoning my navy blue jacket. “Maybe someone wanted to get something back?”

Yet Tez discounts that scenario, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so, because all the rooms are cleaned daily and important items are given to me. Nothing of value has been found.”

Adriano rubs a hand over his mouth in agitation while we glance at each other, clearly recognizing the annoyance in each other’s expressions. Neither of us has a clue who could be behind this.

Out of options, I say, “We need to beat a confession out of one of the captives.”

Riled up that the club was invaded last night, Adriano strides to the elevator, signaling for us to trail him. After stepping inside, we ride down to the underground floor and make our way to the hallway where the two men are imprisoned in adjacent cells. A guard is standing in front of the first one.

“Open it,” Adriano orders and sails through the doorway.

Rudd, the overweight bar owner we captured last night, looks like shit.

While Tez and I stand back, Adriano halts in front of him and calmly rolls his neck. “I’m going to torture either you or him.” He points next door. “You may choose. I need one of you to provide me the answers I seek; however, I’m not a patient man, so do you still have no idea who instructed you? There must be a lead? A clue? Or if you’re not useful, then I won’t need you.”

Rudd’s tired gaze shifts from me to Tez and ends at Adriano. “There’s a way to find out.”

“How?” Adriano demands.

“He was going to contact me today, but on my burner phone, which is at home.”

Adriano cocks his head and a slow smiles spreads across his face. “Well, then my man will pick it up for us.”

“No! Please let me get it.”

“Shut up!” Adriano barks, and Rudd presses his lips together in a thin, hard line. “I’d never allow you to get it; I’m not a foolish man.” Turning around, he instructs the guard, “Go to his address, find his burner phone, and bring it to me ASAP.”

“Yes sir,” the guard responds and comes inside the cell as we walk out, hearing Rudd’s objections.

“Don’t hurt my wife. Please...” he begs just when I’m about to turn the corner.

Looking back at him, I say, “I can’t make that promise because my wife was hurt due to your stunt.” And I shadow Adriano and Tez to the next room where Adriano throws open the door.

The man rears up from his cot as Adriano taunts while theatrically holding out his arms, “Ah, the chosen one. Since we still need Rudd, your luck has run out.”

This time, I take the lead, needing to let out my anger of last night. Edging toward him, I make him walk backward as I state, “We don’t need you anymore, and given that you know nothing except that you were the lookout, I should just kill you.”

He brings up his palms and I come to a stop. “Wait! I know who the other men were.”

“Rudd does too,” I counter.

“I can find out what they were searching for.”

So someone is trying to steal something from the underground.

“Which is also information I can obtain via Rudd, who threw you to the wolves, by the way. More importantly, didn’t you know you’re a dead man anyway because my wife was in danger? And on top of that, you’re the idiot who willingly came into the Syndicate’s headquarters!”

His eyes round for a second. “Fuck! This is Rudd’s doing, not mine!” he protests.

But I snarl in a deadly tone, “Lower your voice. See, the thing I can’t let go about last night is that my wife got hurt. And I think that if we hadn’t caught you, you would’ve hurt her even more when she returned to the club. That doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Bloody hell! I don’t even know who the fuck your wife is. I don’t care about your fucking wife!”

In that moment, I snap and seize him, hurling him against the folding bed. “Wrong day to disobey me!”

The cot collapses beneath him, but he surges up. I grab his collar with one hand and when I smash my fist into his nose, a wail bursts from him. Then I toss him onto the floor with a loud thud.

“Give me your knife,” I say to Adriano, who bends down and nabs it from his ankle holster.

When he pitches it to me, I catch it midair, brandishing it, and my captive jumps out of the way just in time to avoid the tip of the blade.

“Don’t even mention her!” I bellow as Adriano shifts back and lets me vent.

We move around each other, and instead of flashing the knife again, I snatch his wrist and twist it until he drops to the ground. Then I knee him in the stomach, finishing him off with a solid blow to the chin, making him fall onto his back.

With a lethal grunt, I press my boot against his throat. “Someone must pay for what happened to my wife!” And I kick his temple, blood spraying from his mouth as his head flies to the side.

Howling and coughing, he lies there, no match for me and already half unconscious. I sling the knife toward him, causing him to scream in fear as he recoils, only to have the flat of it slap against him before it lands on the floor.

“You’re not even worth mutilating,” I spit.

Adriano chuckles behind me, and I peer at him as his expression becomes bored. “Finish him off. One less problem to deal with.” He stretches his arm to check the time on his chrome watch. “We have to go meet Fallon and Cam, and you have blood on your shirt.”

Looking down, I see splatters on my white dress shirt from where my jacket was unbuttoned. “I need to change.”

Without hesitation, I snatch my gun and aim it at the prisoner’s forehead while he screams bloody murder. Pulling the trigger once, I hit him between the eyes and he goes slack as a pool of crimson forms around him.

Immediately, we exit the cell and Adriano commands Tez, “Order a guard to dispose of the body at the warehouse up north. And I want to shut down this area and brick over the route to the L station as soon as we can.” We need to keep Tez close because he knows too many details about the sex club, and giving him this task pulls him deeper into our organization.

“I’m on it,” Tez answers, taking out his phone and starting to make calls while we all walk to the elevator to return upstairs.

When it opens in Adriano’s office, he marches to his desk and grabs a clean shirt from the drawer, flinging it onto the padded chair as I unfasten my tie and shuck off my jacket. Once I’ve changed and am tucking it neatly inside my slacks, I put on my jacket again.

While I right my collar, I instruct Tez, “Follow my lead when the women get here. Fallon and Cam don’t need to know we killed one of the hostages, and I don’t want them too involved.”

“Why not?” he questions.

Adriano and I pin our gazes on him, and I arc a brow in impatience. Tez doesn’t need to know why and how I protect my wife; he simply needs to obey.

Grinning in reaction to our expressions, he brings up his palms. “Never mind.”

“Just don’t tell Fallon and Cam,” I repeat.

“Don’t tell Fallon and Cam what?” a throaty voice says from behind us.

We spin around in unison to see Fallon in the doorway, and behind her stands Cam, who frowns at Adriano as he clenches his jaw in annoyance.

Why did they come early? These women are clever. Although I admire the quality, it also makes handling them difficult. Adriano and I are continually balancing on the precarious edge of being both a Syndicate member and a husband, and unfortunately, the look of apprehension that Fallon sends me now is the exact reason why I keep her out of Syndicate business.

What do I say? I just killed someone. Even after four years, I realize I can’t just come out and state it, because even though she knows, I wouldn’t ever confront her with it since she’s never been a part of this lifestyle.

I pause, not sure how to respond, and you could cut the tension with a knife.

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