by Soraya Naomi
Both Adriano and I stare at him – Adriano with an irritated expression and I with a blank one.
“Damian, what happened?” I evenly repeat.
He slides onto the seat next to Adriano. “We killed the associate, but there was a witness.”
This is not good.
Adriano’s getting more wound up by the second, so I discreetly lift my hand toward him, signaling him to cool down, for now.
Damian continues, “She saw the shooting, and then Frank panicked and kicked her. I ordered him not to touch her while I got the car, but he hit her at least one more time, because she has a bruise on her face. I just wanted to pay her off, but Frank made everything worse. I haven’t left him alone with her since then. He’s fucking trouble, man.”
“Damn it, Damian. A woman? What exactly did she witness?” Adriano interrupts.
“The kill,” Damian confesses.
Adriano and I briefly glance at each other, both realizing the enormity of this screw-up.
“What did you do with her?” Adriano questions.
“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 then.
“Yes,” Damian answers.
Good. We tested Frank on his skills in espionage, obedience, and discretion. He succeeded, but with the most important skill that’s required to ensure a membership in our Syndicate – killing without mercy and without any witnesses – he failed.
“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 Frank as a prospect and thought he’d be a valuable member.
“Body is disposed of and crime scene is clean. She’s the only loose end. I’m sorry I brought her here,” Damian apologizes in a weak voice.
“You should be.” My tone isn’t giving 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 demand to know.
He brushes 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 probe.
“I think so. His aim was unsteady,” Damian replies.
“You fucking moron,” Adriano yells. “Why didn’t you call me? And where the fuck is Frank?”
“Frank knows he’s in big trouble,” Damian explains quickly. “I wanted to go ahead and end him after he needlessly kicked her. When I came up from the basement, he was sitting in the living room.”
From this point on, I let Adriano handle his soldier. Anxious to check the basement feed, I peer at my laptop and see that 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 pumps furiously in my ears. Sweat immediately forms on my forehead as I gaze at her. Adriano’s shouting becomes distorted and fades away as I’m 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, and her beautiful red gown is dirty and ruined. Frozen in place, I gape at Fallon and blink a few times, hoping my eyes are deceiving me. But I’m positive it’s Fallon, lying unconscious on the bed. And they fucking shackled her!
My two lives collide. My heart is being held in a death grip that’s smothering me until, ever so slowly, all my senses come back to me, and yelling assaults my ears.
“Idiota!” Idiot! “Get Frank. Now!” Adriano’s still reprimanding Damian, who hurries out of the office.
Adriano shifts his attention to me as I undo the top buttons on my white dress shirt to relieve the suffocation I’m feeling. My fist tightens on the desk as I’m transfixed by the sight of Fallon’s unconscious body on my screen.
“Luca. What is it?” Adriano hesitantly asks.
Completely incensed, I bang my fist on the desk, then I jump up and say, “It’s her. She’s the witness.” And I grit my teeth, violently shoving the laptop screen toward him.
His eyes widen the moment he recognizes Fallon. “Oh, shit!”
I charge to the table next to the door to get a drink. Taking the top off the decanter, I pour a shot of whiskey and toss it back, grimacing as the liquid burns down my throat. A million thoughts race through my mind while I think about how to ensure that neither she nor I is endangered further.
Since Frank is becoming a liability, I order Adriano, “Go meet up with Frank and Damian.”
“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 Fallon until I figure out what I’m going to do.”
Adriano returns my steady gaze. “I can change the code of her room after I’ve found Damian and Frank. Until we’ve talked to them, we can still hold off on asking questions. But, Luca, think good and hard before you do anything foolish. As your Capo, but mostly as your friend, I’m advising you to not act on your anger now.”
Sighing, I let him go.
As soon as the door shuts, I release a tormented breath and grip the glass in my hand while rage crawls over my skin, faster and faster. All I can think about is the vision of Fallon chained to the bed downstairs. With a growl, I hurl the glass across the room where it hits the wall and splinters into a thousand pieces.
This night has gone from bad to horrific, starting with Fallon finding my other phone and concluding that I’m married, which resulted in her not wanting me to accompany her to the event. I was supposed to be with her tonight, but I couldn’t press my luck. She was already too suspicious of my behavior the past few weeks, and that damn message ruined everything for me. Of all the possible outcomes, I just never imagined Fallon would end up being a witness. I told her over and over to be more aware of her surroundings, so what the hell was she doing in the back alley alone? I’m furious at her, at myself, at Damian, and, most of all, at Frank. Actually, I’m not furious at her. She was never supposed to know about or become involved in any aspect of my Syndicate life.
However, we’ve been falling apart for weeks; it was really only a matter of time before she found out. When she wouldn’t answer her phone, I’d risk everything and put all business on hold to personally guarantee that she was safe. I’d become agitated beyond reason when she didn’t instantly answer or text me back, and we fought often about that, but it was for her safety because I still hadn’t found out why Leggia had her followed.
In the end, everything I’ve done has been a desperate attempt to keep her love for me untainted, but it’s just managed to drive a wedge between us. 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 only increased her distrust. 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 fracture that I might not be able to repair.
I pinch the bridge of my nose as I drop down onto my chair, my undeviating stare honed in on that room in the basement that holds the only positive thing in my life. When Fallon’s body stirs, I zoom in to trace my fingertips over her contours 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. Then her petrified expression shatters me irreparably. Unable to look at her and think straight, I walk over to the window and rake my hands through my hair, clasping my fingers behind my head.
I could let her go right now since my boss, James, doesn’t know she’s here yet. Only
Frank, Damian, Adriano, and I aware that we have a captive. But I’m sure she’ll go to the police, so I have to expose myself to her, knowing full well that she’ll leave me after that.
All of a sudden, disorder on the laptop screen catches my attention. Hurriedly, I angle it up to get a better view and grip it harshly.
“Motherfucker!” I bellow.
This is exactly what I was afraid of; Fallon is wildly pushing Frank off her. The sheer rage boiling inside me bursts into flames, so I storm out of my office, inhaling deeply and reminding myself not to raise suspicion with anyone. Yet I can’t slow down, even though I’m risking everything as panic and dread fill me.
I’ll fucking torture Frank! Pins and needles are cutting through me, and as I sprint through the long hall, the house seems to have gotten bigger.
Adriano blocks my path when I reach the first stairwell. “Cosa è successo?” What happened?
“Get the fuck out of my way,” I whisper-yell and 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 the stairs but halt midway when I see James at the bottom. What’s he doing back already? He wasn’t supposed to be in until tomorrow. Grasping the railing, I’m frantic and ready to blow.
Stay. Calm. I brace my neck as my head pounds in agitation.
“James,” I greet as steadily 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, who seems contrite, standing in the doorway.
Shit! James knows we have a captive. Now I can’t release Fallon tonight.
I glance to my right and notice the door that leads to the basement closing; someone just walked in or out. “No, no problem. I’ll fill you in tomorrow.”
James is engrossed by his phone screen as he distractedly says, “Fine.” But then his head snaps up. “Are you okay?”
Sweat trickles down my neck. “Yeah, just tired as hell.”
“Me too. I’m going up. Let’s meet at nine in the morning.”
I nod as he ascends the stairs, but then the front guard enters the house, so I have to wait until he disappears into the living room because no one can see me going down to the basement – I need to avoid questions until I’ve come up with a plan.
“Fuck,” I grind out.
The guard shuts the living room door behind him, finally leaving the foyer empty, and I run down to the basement where Fallon’s in the last room. Ignoring my ringing phone in my pocket, I race to her room and key in the code. Thank god Damian and Frank didn’t change it. I open the door and see that Frank’s gone and Fallon has her back to me with a phone pressed to her ear.
She swings around, her gaze meets mine, and the shaken expression on her face tells me that she’s the one who was calling me. When I inch closer to her, the phone she’s clutching slips out of her hand and falls to the ground. Fallon’s clearly in shock as her fearful eyes follow my slow movements, then dart to the phone and abruptly back up to me. She’s going to reach for it because her 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, but I snatch it up before she touches it, and I lock us inside the room for privacy.
“Fallon”—I approach her as I would a scared child—“I’m here to help you.”
Her look of terror and confusion magnifies as I swallow back my fury when I observe blood on her nose and mouth, my chest heaving from the anger simmering below the surface at seeing her in this condition. I didn’t get to her in time.
Her entire body is trembling. “Wh-what’s happening? Why...What are you doing here?”
How do I get her to trust me? “Fallon, I didn’t 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, every negative emotion imaginable written on her face.
“You’re bleeding,” I say quietly, proceeding forward.
“Don’t come near me,” she warns in a broken voice.
Annoyed, I drag my hands through my hair. “You’re bleeding. I want to check your injuries.” There are dark stains by her knees on the fabric of her dress, and I need to examine the bruises on her face as well.
Fallon touches her nose and looks at her bloodied hand. With her bottom lip quivering uncontrollably, her mouth drops open, but nothing comes out except for an almost imperceptible gasp.
Sighing, I try to urge her into action. “Fallon, we don’t have much time.”
“Why...? What? I don’t understand anything. Are you getting me out of here?” she asks in a nervous tone.
I see her mind struggling 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.
Ultimately, 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. Don’t let on that you know me. That won’t work in your favor.”
She recoils, thinking I’m threatening her. Good. I need her fear to force her into submission now.
“You’re part of this?” Her voice is infinitely small.
“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.
At that point, Fallon’s either goes into shock or she has more severe injuries, because one minute she’s staring straight ahead at the door, and the next, she faints.
“What the fuck!” Just in time, I catch Fallon and lay her on the bed, lowering myself beside her to check the blood around her nose.
Frustrated that I can’t find where it’s coming from, I wipe the already-dried blood away with my sleeve. Thankfully, I don’t see any fresh blood, so hopefully, she’s just in shock. Still, my barely contained rage storms within me when I stroke the welts on her cheek.
“Luca, I’m coming in.” Adriano keys in the code and hands me a first aid kit. “The camera is turned off in here, and the house is almost empty. I’ll stand watch at the basement door.”
I accept the kit, never looking away from Fallon. “Grazie.” Thank you.
Adriano goes to stand guard, and I begin to clean her face, neck, and hands. Then I hike up her dress to tend to her battered knees, gently swiping the cuts and applying antiseptic.
When I’m almost done, she stirs, twitching her cuffed left arm, and rejoins the conscious world.
A deep sense of sadness overwhelms me when the expression on her face tells me that the last couple of hours are flooding her memory and realization of her situation is setting in.
“What happened?” she asks.
“You passed out for a few minutes. How are you feeling?”
“Luca, what’s this room? What’s going to happen to me? Please tell me. I’m scared.” The anxiety in her voice is rising.
“Tell me how you’re feeling first, Fallon.”
“Confused.”
“Physically. How are you feeling physically?”
“My head and knees hurt and my cheekbones too. I got a blow to my head, but the pounding has let up.”
With all my power, I keep my fingers clasped to prevent from reaching out to her. Relieved that no other parts of her body hurt, I provide her with answers. “I’m not married. You misunderstood that message on the phone. Make a marriage simply means a business merger.” And I pause to take in a deep breath to finally reveal the truth. “I’m part of the mafia.”
Fallon simply gasps.
“I’m the underboss of the Chicago Syndicate. You witnessed a hit, and my men are never allowed to leave witnesses, so they took you, not knowing who you were to me. This part of my life is dangerous, and I’ve been protecting you from it.”
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“Protecting me? How? By lying to me from the start? Protecting me or yourself?”
“It’s always been about protecting you, dolcezza.” When I attempt to touch her, she flinches and is obviously out of sorts, because I can’t believe her next question.
“Are you going to kill me?”
Those words saw at my heart. All the trust we’ve built in the last six months vanishes because of this one night, because of these couple of hours that have probably guaranteed my loss of her. “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 hostility.
The entire night is weighing heavily on my mind, and I don’t have time for her defiance now, so I counter, “You have no choice, do you?”
Distress colors her eyes again, and she’s smart enough to keep quiet now.
“I know you must have many questions. Ask them now.” Adriano’s guarding the basement, and since the house is almost empty, I want to be honest with Fallon in hopes that I can offer her a sense of security, so I sit down beside her on the bed.
“I don’t know where to begin.” She pauses to form her question. “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 the house we use as our headquarters.”
Fallon licks her dry lips. “Was everything between us a lie?”
“No. My work was partly a lie. My feelings, never doubt those,” I reply curtly while I’d rather explain it all in detail, but time is pressing.
She never breaks eye contact, yet the tremor in her speech is a constant reminder of her fear. “Who are you really?”
I rein 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 understand the seriousness of her situation. “I’m part of the Chicago Syndicate. James is the Capo crimine, the boss. I’m his underboss. We rule the Chicago drug underworld. James and I have Capo regimes that work for us; they handle the day-to-day business. All the Capi report to me, as the underboss, and I report to James, the boss, what we call the Capo crimine. Adriano, my friend you’ve met, he’s one of the Capi.”