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For the Love of Luca (Chicago Syndicate Book 8) by Soraya Naomi (18)

CHAPTER 18

Fallon

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“HEY...WHAT’S WRONG? You look you’ve seen a ghost,” Michael says as the elevator closes behind him.

“What are you doing here?”

Michael, who’s very structured and organized, holds up a pink bib and wool knitted hat that belong to Milana. “You left this in my car.” Placing the items on the kitchen counter, he repeats, “Fallon, what’s wrong?”

I bite my lip, rocking Noah on my arm, wondering whether to speak up, yet I’m unable to keep it to myself. “I remembered something that was written in the message. Something that would be a huge clue.”

His expression doesn’t betray the slightest flicker of emotion. “What do you mean? I thought you and Luca decided to move on from that because it seems that you never even got a message that day.”

“We did, and I tried to forget it. You know that; I’ve worked closely with you and let you into our daily life as Luca requested. But this morning, I remembered that the message said dolcezza, which is a nickname only the Syndicate high ranking men know about. No one else knows Luca calls me dolcezza.”

“Are you sure no one else knows the moniker?”

“One hundred percent sure,” I reply with conviction.

As Michael assesses me, his brows pull together. “Since you hit your head and your story was discounted, I’ve gone along with what everyone else has concluded, even though I do believe that you think you received a text. I know what I’m about to say may not make sense to you – it doesn’t make sense to me either, but you don’t come off as unstable or volatile to me.”

Shocked, I stare at him before relief fills my cells. “Why didn’t you speak up? If I had had just one person to support me, maybe Luca would have believed me or at least given my story some merit.”

“It’s not my place. I just joined the team.”

“And why can’t Luca see that I’m not unstable? I thought he trusted me...”

Tilting his head, he softens his tone. “Because there wasn’t a message on your phone, it’s that simple. It has nothing to do with that he doesn’t trust you. Regardless, if what you say is true, then there’s a spy within the high ranks, and that’s highly unlikely. Adriano would never hurt you or the twins. Logan is more your friend than Luca’s. Carmine would never go against Adriano because they’re brothers and neither would Henry because he’s his successor. What would any of them have to gain? However, it’s impossible for anyone outside the mafia to get your phone number, so your new piece of information supports your theory – for once, which makes this a very confusing situation.”

Rounding the couch, I gently lay Noah down next to Milana and look at my beautiful babies. “Exactly. No one from outside the Syndicate has my number, so it’s someone from the inside.”

“You think – if you actually ever got the message,” he counters, and my hardening gaze shoots to him.

“Why do people keep saying that? How can I just imagine what happened? I’m not an idiot!”

“But you did hit your head the week before the incident with Noah...And we keep coming back to the same question, Fallon: where’s that text?”

I throw up my hands in annoyance. “I felt fine and the Syndicate doctor examined me twice. If the doctor had said I had a concussion, then maybe I could’ve gotten things mixed up. But I don’t have a head injury...So what do I do?” I ask, realizing that I’m beginning to trust Michael since he can be objective during stressful circumstances and he never plays Luca and me against each other. Quite the opposite, he’s often here to help me – just as much as he helps Luca – like he promised when we met.

“The only thing you need is proof of that message. If you’re positive you didn’t imagine it,” he reminds me sternly.

“I am sure. Do I tell Luca?”

“I can’t answer that; that’s between you and him. But I can tell you that if Rachel’s death taught me anything it’s that no one can be trusted. Her death was due to an inside job,” he explains, so I send him a sympathetic smile.

A last, I understand why he’s the only one who’s willing to at least give some consideration to my story. Although when Michael says his late fiancée’s name, it sidetracks me. He’s never spoken about his past, and we’ve been too busy getting acquainted and making sure we communicate well for me to ask him about it.

I want to learn more about him, yet I don’t want to pry, so I start with, “How come you’re always working? Don’t you have any family?”

He gazes past my shoulder, and for a moment, I think he won’t answer until he speaks in a forlorn voice, “No. People who join the mafia rarely have families. Do you?”

“No.” I pass the coffee table to stop in front of him. “My only family is Luca and the Syndicate.”

“So is mine. But we’re family now and we protect one another, so promise me that you won’t do anything stupid and go out investigating on your own again. I don’t have to remind you how pissed off that’ll make Luca. You can’t do anything reckless or I will tell Luca, okay?”

Shit! “No! You can’t tell Luca. And you’re right; without proof, I have nothing,” I evade his request as it dawns on me how seriously Michael takes his job.

When it comes down to it, unless I have proof, he won’t help me either. A feeling of loneliness wells inside me as I brush my side-swept bangs out of my eyes, not knowing how to proceed. I must protect my kids but can’t simply rely on others. Especially when I’m sure I’m missing something important. I refuse to ever put Noah or Milana in danger again, yet the need to seek answers is becoming increasingly urgent.

All of a sudden, the elevator glides open and Luca steps into the apartment, his eyebrows lifting slightly when he sees Michael.

“Hey,” he greets him, kissing my mouth and winding his arm around my middle as he stands beside me, which astonishes me.

Though his affectionate manner simultaneously comforts me too. And when his fresh cologne surrounds me, I can’t help but stare at his controlled movements. His long fingers unbutton the jacket of his charcoal three-piece suit, exposing a perfectly ironed white dress shirt and red power tie.

“I just brought some things Fallon left behind in my car.” Michael stretches his arm to check the time on his watch. “But I’m going to dinner now. I’ll see you two tomorrow.” Strolling to the door, he pushes the elevator button and mouths, “Don’t do anything rash.”

While I’m itching to update Luca, the fear of his reaction prevents me. Especially after he playfully pulls me in front of him.

Gripping his lapels, I ask, “What did Adriano want?”

Luca’s been keeping me away from the Syndicate; I presume it’s because he doesn’t trust me fully yet. The last time I was at the club, I relayed my story and caught him off guard. I’m guessing he wants to avoid such a situation.

“He showed me the remodeled dance club.” He drags me close and hugs me to him, the heat of his chest pressing into mine, making me feel cherished again like I’ve yearned for.

Curious, I question him further, “How does it look?”

“It looks great. The space is twice as big as upstairs, and it’s an open floor plan. Along with the semi-high ceiling, it doesn’t feel as if you’re underground.”

“The crew’s worked fast.”

“Everything’s going according to schedule without any problems.” Tilting his head, he adds with an obvious double meaning, “Thank god – I don’t need any issues at the moment.” He expels a significant sigh as my gaze moves down the row of buttons on his white dress shirt.

“We’re having a party Saturday before we shut down Club 7, so I’m taking you out. We have to ask Julia to babysit.”

I nod eagerly as Luca rests his forehead against mine, causing my eyes to fall closed after his charming side reappears. It tears me apart with indecision.

To speak up or not to speak up?

Luca interrupts my inward battle and pulls back to yank loose his tie. “I want to get out of this suit. I’m going to change. I’ll be right back.” He releases me, looking at me with that composed yet powerful expression he’s mastered to a tee before he saunters around the couch. As he passes the bassinet, he caresses our babies’ heads and continues on down the hallway.

Meanwhile, I palm my forehead, feeling torn; however, Luca returns quickly in his customary grey sweats that hang low on his hips, baring his muscled torso. It’s what he wears when he’s staying in and wants to get comfortable.

I’ve hankered for some normalcy between us, and I’m afraid that one word about the supposed message will take us ten steps back. I don’t want to upset my husband, because he’s the underboss and he can’t afford to be unstable. More importantly, I need Luca close. He’s my tranquility as well. At the end of the day, I do everything to keep him happy and with me. The need to avoid Luca isolating himself from me overrides all other emotions, and I decide to keep my discovery to myself – until I find evidence.

With a wicked gleam, Luca edges closer. Lately, we’ve only had time for a quickie here and there because the twins need constant care and I’m often exhausted at night.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, his eyes sweeping up the length of my body, from my wide black pants to the long-sleeve merino shirt that’s tucked inside and ending at my gold hoop earrings.

“Good since the twins slept at the same time today.”

His eyes linger at my breasts as I stifle a chuckle, and when I wave my hand, Luca’s gaze snaps up to my face.

“You were talking to my breasts,” I say, making his mouth turn up into a grin.

“Well, they do demand my attention in that tight shirt.” He moves toward me with long steps, and I retreat at the same pace as Luca’s playful behavior rubs off on me.

I look up through my eyelashes, confessing, “I like how they’re a cup size bigger.”

“Me too,” he growls around a smirk.

And he bounds forward, but I dash to the side to run down the hall and into the bedroom, craning my neck to see Luca approaching me. As he crosses the threshold, he jumps forward and grabs my waist, tossing me onto the bed and then bracing himself over me while I kick off my ballet flats.

The warmth of his naked, chiseled torso seeps into me while I slip my hands up his arms and neck. Luca lets out a sigh, grazing his lips over mine as my breath catches when he tenderly swipes my bangs from my forehead, his green gaze burning into me. A gaze that, for once, isn’t unreadable but bursting with desire.

On their own accord, my nails rove over his strong, clean-shaven jawline as I whisper, “Ti amo,” right before he angles his mouth over mine, forcing my lips open with the insistent pressure of his skillful tongue.

Then he presses his lips to my collarbone and covers it with gentle little bites, growling, “Lascia che io ti ami.” Let me love you.

His words appease my restless heart as he gives himself to me fully again, and when his palms glide over my breasts and down my sides to pull up my shirt and remove it, I don’t feel a trace of distance between us.

Around a wicked smile, he kisses his way down my throat and yanks my bra down, covering my nipple with his tongue and making my back arch off the bed as unadulterated longing runs through my limbs.

“Ah, Luca,” I mutter as he sucks my nipple while unbuttoning my pants. Then he kisses down to my navel and glances up while he tongues it, dragging my pants and panties over my legs to cast them onto the floor. Luca’s dark hair falls across his forehead as he takes in my flushed skin with hunger. Breathing raggedly, he kneels on the bed between my legs, but I place my foot against his abs, and he cocks his head.

“I want you naked too,” I say, causing the corners of his lips to quirk up as I push down his sweats with my toes, and he stands up to remove them along with his black boxers.

Gripping my knees, he spreads my legs apart as he leans down and licks a path up the inside of my thigh, then he slices his tongue over my core, delicately stroking me and ordering, “Look at me,” as he always does.

Unable to deny him, I look down as he parts my folds and smoothly slips his tongue inside of me, mimicking the sexual act while circling my swollen nub. My back bows off the mattress when he sucks hard as I push against his mouth, wanting more of his lashing tongue. He teases me and almost takes me to climax but then stops to pleasure me with long, languid strokes. I squirm and wriggle beneath him, which spurs him on as he fervently tastes me.

“Fuck, Luca!” I pant right before he crawls upward and settles over me, nestled between my legs, and he rubs his hard length against my soaking center.

Grabbing the back of my neck, Luca kisses me fiercely, and I lock my arms and legs around him, adoring the feeling of his weight on me and making sure that every part of our naked skin is touching.

“I need you,” he whispers and eases inside before withdrawing and plunging in deeper.

My hips arch with every push until he thrusts all the way in, letting out a growl as he bottoms out, staring into my eyes. Then he latches his mouth on to mine, our hips rubbing together, and he stimulates my tender core. He rolls his pelvis to meet me, his palms moving down to capture my behind as he begins to fuck me. Slow and steady. At last, we make love again. This isn’t a quickie. It’s the way he and I connect on a level that only true lovers do.

A thin sheen of sweat breaks out on his forehead while our bodies slap together, and then Luca sits us up, guiding my legs around his hips so that I feel him even deeper inside me. His nails rake up my spine, up to my nape to tangle in my hair, and grip the roots as his other hand kneads my ass.

“God, Fallon,” he rasps, his hot breath in my neck as I rock up and down his shaft.

Then I make circles, causing Luca to groan and bite my earlobe. My toes curl as he possessively molds my behind, urging me on. I plant my feet into the sheets as Luca’s hands fit to my waist and he bucks up. Our lovemaking turns wilder as he owns me, bending forward to suck my nipple while I bow my back, mashing my center over his arousal and seeking more pleasure until it starts to crests into an outburst.

But Luca lifts me off him, rolling me onto my stomach to pull me back on all fours, and he drives into me from behind. Pistoning inside, he grips my waist as my body is pushed forward, and when he strokes his nails up my curving spine, I shudder.

Although I notice a frantic manner in his actions, I get distracted by sparks igniting in my belly when Luca hammers into me, his fingers digging into my skin. Biting my lip, I push back, needing more of him. And with him planted inside of me, I close my eyes, whimpering and mewling, “Oh, Luca, please...”

Luca spreads me wide as he continues, his head buried in my neck as he commands, “Fuck! Take me deep.”

Then pleasure bursts from my stomach to my toes as his groin slaps against my ass, and I tremble uncontrollably before falling on the bed.

Around a low growl, he spears inside twice before going slack on top of me, and we catch our breath.

For a long, silent moment, we lie together until he places a kiss on my temple and rolls to the side. Both of us turn so that we’re facing each other, and Luca drags me close by my middle while he scoots down a little. My arms loop around his neck as we hug each other. No, we cling to each other. When he tangles our legs, I rest my chin on his head as he kisses me between my breasts and I realize he still hasn’t called me dolcezza. The dark cloud above my head returns.

But then Luca gazes up with half-lidded eyes and surprises me by saying, “I’ll always protect you.” Which is his way of apologizing for being distant.

“I know,” I reply; however, the truth is, he won’t always be able to protect me.