by Soraya Naomi
However now, after her dismissal of our relationship, the thought of her stirs a chaotic range of emotions in me. She used to be my solace, and now it’s the exact opposite – she’s my trigger. My trigger to drink. My only reprieve is found in alcohol, but even that only numbs me for a while, and then everything comes back full force, intensifying the pain with this horrible headache and queasiness.
She has the audacity to keep throwing lies and betrayal in my face without once giving me the chance to explain or have a serious heart to heart. Supposedly, women always want to communicate and define relationships, but I found the one woman who’s a closed book, and I can’t seem to get through to her. Granted, I also didn’t handle things well the last couple of days.
Rubbing my middle fingers in the corner of my eyes, I unsteadily go to my bathroom to rinse off the weekend. Rinse her from my mind, yet again.
Adriano – always just as punctual as I am – texts me that he’s just pulled up as I sip an espresso in the kitchen. Opening the drawer of my island, I search for my headache remedy and grab a bottle of water from the fridge before I make my way down to meet him.
I slide into his silver metallic convertible, which is parked right in front the building, and turn down the volume of the radio before I screw the top off the bottle.
“You look like shit,” he remarks as he shifts the car into drive.
Tilting my head back, I down the water along with two pills.
“We’re going to the office. You need to show your face, and we need to sign some documents. Maybe we should attend a few events too because it’s been a long time since we’ve participated in our security business.”
I slowly nod.
He glances at me intently. “Luca, you have to stop this self-destruction. No woman is worth losing your life over. You promised James, now follow through. We give you a week, and you deteriorate the moment you lay eyes on her.”
“Yeah, the weekend sucked.”
Adriano sighs resolutely. “We went into this together. You owe it to me to stop playing with your own life. James has been patient, but he’s not anymore. This is our life, and Fallon doesn’t want to accept it. You have to move on, and I get that it’s difficult when we still need to keep an eye on her.”
My gaze shifts to Adriano, and I realize that I do owe it to my best friend because without me as his underboss, he would live an entirely different life. Without him, I would have a completely different, less trustworthy, Capo. “Give me some time. Cover for me occasionally, but I promise I will be myself again soon.”
“Okay. But you have to start answering your calls and act like the underboss again. Don’t let James or anyone else see your weakness – you told me that.”
My head falls back against the seat while the medicine is kicking in. “She came by yesterday.”
His eyes cut to mine.
“She received the money and was not happy.”
“She’ll need it. I hope she’s smart enough to keep it.” Adriano brakes at the intersection and waits for the light to flick to green.
“That’s what I told her. The fact that she’s not telling me about the investigation concerns me. Why is she determined to keep it from me and not ask for help? Unless she is working with the police? Collopy’s week to make the note disappear has passed, but I bet she hasn’t kept her word.”
“Collopy is MIA,” Adriano mentions and hits the gas.
“Since when?”
“Three days ago, I think. Check your messages. I’ve been working a lot the last few days, picking up your slack without any of the other members noticing.”
“Thanks, man.”
“You better get me a fucking stunning stripper for my birthday to make it up to me.”
Grinning, I offer, “One with huge tits?”
“No, no, no,” he complains dramatically, and his mouth twitches in amusement. “Huge ass. You know I’m an ass man.”
“Depends on the woman with you. You’re not always an ass man.” I gulp the entire bottle of water down to quell my thirst.
Adriano turns the wheel to the right, rounds the skyscraper, and heads toward the garage. “Well, some women have such gorgeous tits, I don’t see anything else.”
“See, then you’re not an ass man. You’re undecided,” I tease, and he parks the vehicle in the vacant spot with his nameplate on the wall.
A perky blonde receptionist, who I don’t recognize, welcomes us as soon as we walk in. “Good morning, Luca, Adriano.”
Adriano winks at her, and she giggles in an irritatingly high tone while crowds of people pass her desk.
After we rush inside the first elevator that opens, Adriano presses the button to the thirtieth floor.
The entire floor belongs to our company, Security Simplicity, but we rent out half of the office space. I haven’t stepped foot in the office for over three weeks, which isn’t uncommon, but with Alex’s investigation and the explosion at our headquarters, I need to be more consistent about maintaining the façade. If any clean detective digs just a little deeper into Fallon Michaels’ past, it will lead him to me.
Adriano and I share an office next to the management team, our three directors who manage daily operations. They’re reliable associates of the Syndicate. We go into their office to sign monthly reports, and Adriano informs them that we’re investing a huge amount of money in research and development – the money we’re using is our profit from the drug traffic in the South.
As of just recently, the Syndicate solely rules the drug traffic in every establishment and on every street corner in Chicago – and most other areas in Illinois. North Chicago is back under our control since James killed Leggia. Our drug profit is in cash and is laundered through two companies. James and Salvatore launder through one, and Adriano and I launder through the other, Security Simplicity. Adriano’s my partner by my own choice because he has a higher rank than the other Capi as my back-up, and just like me, he earns a legal income from Security Simplicity. All the other members of our organization – the other regular Capi and our soldiers – get paid in cash by Salvatore; there’s not one digital trace between the other Capi and soldiers and the four of us. As it’s set up, James, Salvatore, Adriano, and I have gained all our wealth through the security companies – so it seems.
The meeting drags on as they bombard us with tons of questions regarding the new investments because it’s a significantly higher amount than we’ve ever invested. What can I say? Business is doing well, moneywise.
Two hours later, I finally enter my own office, which is furnished with just two mahogany desks and chairs that sit opposite each other and a lounge sofa by the window. Adriano comes in and hands me a cup of coffee as I tilt the laptop screen up.
“Can you imagine if this was actually our everyday life? Boring meetings, then off to go home to put the kids to bed, some missionary sex, and the next day wash, rinse, repeat,” he comments.
I laugh at how dramatic he can be sometimes. “Yeah, definitely not meant for us.”
“I’m heading to Finance to finalize this.” He holds up the stack of papers we’ve just signed. “And then we can discuss a plan of action regarding Cam and Collopy.”
I nod and click on the mailbox icon.
When Adriano exits, Janey marches in, turns, and closes the door.
I pick up my pen and tap it against my desk in agitation as I watch her big, brown eyes focus on me.
“Hi, I’ve called you. Seems you’ve been busy.”
She did call me. On the phone that I, at one point, only used for Fallon. Janey is beautiful, and there was a time when I used her as a substitute. For two weeks after I met Fallon in that club, I fucked Janey. And there’s only one reason why I did, because she reminded me of another brunette – I was strangely obsessed with Fallon very early on. Janey has the same soft eyes, only Fallon’s sparkle and her lashes are thicker. That same long, wavy, deep brown hair and skin that is so smooth to the touch, but Janey isn’t Fallon. The second
I kissed Fallon, she infused herself into my veins, and I never spoke to Janey again outside of work.
“I have been busy. How can I help you?” I’ve dismissed all her advances since I started visiting Fallon regularly at her coffee shop, and I made it clear that we were never going to be an item.
“Haven’t seen you in a while.” She rests her ass on my desk, right next to me.
I stand without touching her and move away to open the door. “I’m fine and actually busy right now.” I’m not in the mood for this shit, but this is the office, so I stay polite and professional.
“Oh, okay.” She gets the hint. “Maybe we can have lunch?”
Clearly, she didn’t get my hint. “Maybe.” Probably not.
After she leaves, I return to my desk and start digging through Camilla Guillermo’s files that we had pulled by our new hacker, Henry. He’s a genius kid who works for the government but also works for the Syndicate on the side. Most of Cam’s information is either deleted or classified now, which is odd because before she disappeared, we had another classified file on her. Even confidential information is usually accessible by our hacker but not the new classified documents. I search for the original documents in my file labeled Résumés. Her original file is clean, which is why she was accepted by the Syndicate so easily.
Adriano returns after I’ve worked for half an hour dissecting every page. Without looking up, I state, “Her original file is from another Camilla Guillermo.”
“How?” Adriano plops into the chair.
“She was meticulous because everything matches up. Except when you click Duplicates in City Hall’s system, which I’m logged into now, Cam’s profile comes up as deleted. Looks like she stole another person’s Social Security number for a couple of years.”
Adriano eases forward, entwining his fingers on the desk. “She isn’t Camilla? I mean, she took another identity?”
I look up into his widened eyes. “Well, not really. I think her name was issued to another SSN.”
“I lost you. What?”
“I cross checked everything. Someone is going to great lengths here,” I clarify.
“Is this FBI?”
“This doesn’t seem like Feds.” I take a drink of the coffee, wincing when I taste the cold brew. “Did she ever confide in you? Tell you anything about her past?”
Adriano shakes his head. “I don’t know. I’m racking my brain right now.” He gazes outside, lost in thought.
“Did you ever notice anything unusual in her behavior when you would mention something? Anything out of the ordinary can help,” I encourage.
His lips tilt down. “No...”
I check my phone when the screen lights up, flashing Henry, and I press answer with my thumb.
“I got something,” he says immediately. “I have a Camilla Guilermo, with one L, mentioned once in the classified files I accessed. Uhm...” I hear him clicking his mouse lightning fast. “Yeah, so she’s traceable until over a year and a half ago; used to work at Club 7. She was one of Fat Sal’s girls.”
Oh, fuck!
“I also found the difference in surname once in the original files you sent us,” I tell him. “She vanished right around the time Cam started working for us. What the hell did she do? Is she or someone else changing all her records?”
Adriano’s holds up his hand in question, wanting an update.
Henry answers, “That I don’t know yet. But this was clearly done by someone extremely intelligent who wanted to confuse anyone looking for information about Camilla Guillermo.”
“Can you get me into Club 7 tonight? Two people.”
He groans. “I knew you’d ask that. It’s tricky, but I can.”
“Call me if you find out more.” Then I cut the call.
“And?” Adriano gets out of his seat.
“Guilermo with one L, who I think is just Cam, used to work for Fat Sal.” I also rise and pocket my phone. “Let’s have lunch, and we’re visiting the club tonight.”
“Fuck.” He mirrors my first thought and follows me out. “I’ve never been there.”
“Me either.”
CHAPTER 10
Luca
Adriano and I pass the swarm of people outside the front entrance of – what is officially – Club 7.
“How is it this busy on a Monday night?” I wonder out loud.
“This club is open seven nights a week. I’ve heard it’s always busy, but I’m pretty sure that’s thanks to the area we’re going to visit and not the dance club.”
We round the corner to the other entrance, and I show my phone to the bouncer so that he can scan the barcode Henry sent me to grant us access.
He takes my phone and holds the screen against his device. After handing it back, he steps aside. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.”
We descend two steps, and the heavy steel doors of the club open into a long, dimly lit corridor. A muffled thumping of the bass meets my ears. Colorful pop art of pin-ups hang along both walls, and at the end of the corridor, we step through an archway and into a dark grey room where we’re greeted by a blonde beauty in a tight, low-cut black suit dress and black stilettos.
Of course, Adriano gawks at her cleavage a moment too long, but she just smiles and expects me to hand over my phone again.
“Good evening, gentlemen.” Her voice is raspy, adding to her sex appeal.
“Good evening.” I give her my mobile, and she scans the barcode on the screen.
“Mr. DeMiliano, Mr. Montesi.” She grabs a bag from the floor and turns back to us with another smile. “Please hand over your weapons. They’ll be returned to you at the end of the night.”
The archway we stepped through must be the metal detector. Bending down, I get my handgun out and untie the ankle holster. Adriano removes his piece from the back of his pants, and we drop them into the black bag she holds open for us. She reveals a safe behind one of the posters and secures the bag in it. Then she presses a silver button next to the door in the opposite wall, and it opens into an elevator.
She indicates for us to enter. “Have a wonderful evening.”
The elevator closes and starts its descent.
“She’s fucking hot,” Adriano comments.
I smile because I can’t deny that.
As we arrive, we’re welcomed by another beauty in the same black attire, this time a redhead. I shoot Adriano a grin over my shoulder because fiery redheads are his weakness.
“Mr. DeMiliano, Mr. Montesi, I see it’s your first time at our club. Would you like me to show you around?” she offers.
“No, thanks.” I hold up my hand while taking in the massive round room with a huge gilded chandelier hanging in the middle, dimly illuminating the room in soft yellow.
She frowns and hides it quickly, but I’m already advancing inside. Jazz music drowns out the murmurs and moans of maybe a hundred people here. Set up along the entire rounded wall are beds with see-through drapes, and there’s a bar in the center of the room. Naked women and clothed men flow on the dance floor around the bar.
“They’re fucking.” Adriano jerks his head to one of the beds on the left.
“What did you expect? We’re in the sex club.”
“I don’t know. I didn’t expect it to be so in-my-face.” He smirks while absorbing the atmosphere.
“Find the way to the fight club.”
Fat Sal owns Club 7. The first floor is a legal, highly profitable dance club. Club 7 Underground – where we are now – is a high-end sex club and fight club. The fight club is Sal’s most profitable venture, and I think Cam’s tied to that club somehow.
“Well, it’s kind of hard to focus with all this bare skin everywhere.” His attention shifts around.
“I bet,” I say dryly. “Now find out how to get into the fight club.”
Henry told me that access to the fight club is nearly impossible. The only way in is through the sex club or through Fat Sal.
Discreetly, Adriano and I split up, and
I’m chatting the bartender up when the redhead interrupts us.
“Mr. DeMiliano, could you come with me?”
“Where to?”
“Sal would like to talk to you, Luca.”
She emphasizes my first name, yet I don’t know why.
The Syndicate’s business dealings focus only on the world of drugs. This world, the underworld of sex and fight clubs, is unfamiliar territory for me. While we – James and I – are intentionally vague about the hierarchy in our Syndicate for our own protection, it does lead to situations where I’ve been mistaken for the boss, the Capo crimine, instead of the underboss. And the fact that we have four instead of three high ranking men also throws people off.
Every Syndicate usually has three high ranks: one – the Capo crimine/boss, two – the underboss, and three – the Consigliere/counselor. The underboss usually has several Capi, so-called captains, working for him, and these Capi take care of the actual drug dealings. The Capi have soldiers working for them, and these soldiers report to their own Capo. The Capi report to the underboss. The underboss reports to the Capo crimine and keeps his Consigliere/ lawyer constantly informed on everything.
Our four high ranks include: one – Capo crimine, James; two – underboss, me; three – head captain, Adriano; and four – Consigliere, Salvatore.
I use Adriano as my number one Capo, and the other Capi usually report to Adriano instead of me. When I’m indisposed, Adriano is next in command. That’s a high privilege for a Capo, but James knew I would never agree to be his underboss without Adriano. And James trusts both Adriano and me. The counselor or Consigliere is also highly important. Consigliere takes care of all legal issues and must be involved in everything. The hierarchy is quite clear to us; however, it’s confusing to others, which is exactly our intent.
I have a feeling that Fat Sal thinks I’m his equal from the drug world, but that’s not the case – James is his equal. Fat Sal is the boss of Chicago’s sex clubs. James and I made it our business to know the basics of all criminal activity in Chicago, whether drug related or not. Most mafia bosses are only up to date on their own sector and the people they work with. Fat Sal buys batches of drugs for his sex club from Alessandro, one of my other Capi.