Black Hat Hacker (Chicago Syndicate Book 6)

by Soraya Naomi

  And she types another text.

  Mary (the hot one): I just realized that I completely forgot that I have to feed this dog...

  Earlier tonight, I didn’t enjoy having to lay into her like that, but damn if the woman isn’t stubborn. Even though she’s going to have to understand that I’m just trying to protect her, I keep remembering what she risked to save those dogs, and without thinking, I head for the exit of the club.

  “Henry?” the waitress I entirely forgot yells after me, but I pay her no heed.

  Instead of doing my usual and going home with a woman, I drive to an all-night store and then toward a glass high-rise in the downtown Loop. Parking my car at the front entrance, I call Mary, who picks up on the first ring.

  “Hey...”

  “Come downstairs, Mary. I have something for you,” I say, and it’s quiet for a moment while I wait with anticipation, knowing she’s probably not by herself.

  “Are you here to give me a hard time? If so, I’ll pass, Henry.”

  I deserved that, so I let it go. “I’m not. I can come upstairs, but I bet you’re not alone. Your choice...”

  “You won’t do that,” she responds in her usual playful tone.

  I will. “Want to take that chance?”

  She chuckles. “I’ll be down in a sec.”

  To my surprise, the entrance doors slide open within minutes and Mary hops into my car with her pet in the crook of her arm, looking much too tempting with her curls tied up in a messy bun and wearing sweatpants and a simple white t-shirt.

  “You’re already attached to her.” I can’t help but smile at her adorable expression. There’s always a look of such vitality on her face that seems to captivate me more and more as I get to know her better.

  “She’s so cute,” Mary exclaims and takes my hand in hers, palm up, to place her Chihuahua in it. “Look how small she is. She can fit into your palm.”

  Uncomfortably, I hold the abnormally lightweight dog up and away from me.

  “It’s a dog, not a bomb,” she says jokingly, and I give her a mock glare.

  “What’s her name, by the way?”

  “I haven’t named her yet.” Gently, she takes the squirming pet from me, and I swipe my palm over my pants.

  “I got her food.”

  “You brought dog food?” She assesses me, as if peeling down my layers, and adds with a grin, “I thought you didn’t like animals?”

  “I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I want them to starve,” I retort, reaching back and grabbing the paper bag to hand it over. “I got you organic and natural brands.”

  “That’s so nice of you, Henry,” she murmurs in the sweetest, most appreciative voice. It’s refreshing how easygoing she is. “But I think I’m rubbing off on you and you’re starting to like animals...”

  “I don’t think so, baby,” I counter, fascinated by the slightest arc of her brow, the merest wave of her hand as she dismisses my comment.

  “I think so, baby,” she fires back, and we lock eyes while I reminisce about her sitting astride me earlier. “And I’m not your baby.” She breaks away from my stare, mumbling, “I should go. He’s upstairs.”

  “I guessed that,” I growl, not hiding my emotions like I normally do.

  Unpredictably, she kisses my cheek, much too close to my mouth. The same thing I do to her when I tease her, but these days, she’s the one doing the provoking. I constantly touch her in tempting ways, yet she permits it and never moves away from me anymore.

  “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she whispers, and I stroke a knuckle up her cheek, sliding my fingers into her hair and cupping the back of her head.

  I’m beginning to think that if I were to kiss her, she wouldn’t stop me.

  Unfortunately, a honking horn has us both pulling back in unison, so I release her hair and order, “Go inside, Mary.”

  Quietly, she opens the door, and I watch her until she enters the building, my mind swirling with confusing thoughts.

  While journeying home through the dark streets, I realize that she and I have never been purely friends, and the sin of envy has started to show itself as the nature of our interaction grows beyond simply flirting with each other.

  CHAPTER 3

  Mary

  Back inside my apartment, I’m met with Keano’s fury as I fling my keys onto the square pine table that’s pushed against the green and orange painted wall of my entryway.

  “Where were you?” he demands.

  “Henry dropped off food for my dog,” I answer, holding up the bag, and not in the mood to argue with him, I don’t explain any further.

  I’m consumed with Henry and his peace offering – the dog food. He may not ever verbally apologize for lashing out at me, but he does manage to do so with gestures such as this, not knowing that he steals a piece of my heart every time.

  “Why did you have to go downstairs to see him?” he sneers, jealousy an unattractive trait in him. Especially since he’s the one who stomped all over my feelings four months ago. Right now I’m not sure why I ever wanted him back. All we do lately is bicker while we barely see each other, which makes me conclude that we’ll probably never trust one another again.

  Keano broke us when he took my virginity and then cheated with that redhead within days. Afterward, he begged me to take him back, and at that time, I was so infatuated with him that I forgave him. He was such a sweet guy when we met. Not as strange and rude as he is nowadays.

  But truth be told, I also forgave him because the day I found out he’d cheated, I made a mistake as well. That was the day my friendship with Henry began and I allowed him to woo me. The day that Henry and I danced provocatively before I went home with him, where we kissed. And I’m afraid that kiss ignited a fire inside me for Henry that I can’t seem to extinguish. It was enthralling, not like anything I’ve ever remotely felt with Keano.

  But since that night, nothing else has happened except for the beginning of a friendship. A friendship where I’ve discovered that there’s so much more to Henry, who’s not just a womanizer and a ridiculously fine-looking hacker. He’s a great friend when he allows someone to get close to him; only, he’s private about his past. And I believe he’s more himself with me, which allows me to feel free and protected when I’m with him, emotions I rarely experience living in a mafia world.

  “Well, he’s my friend and you need to accept that.” I shoulder past Keano to the L-shaped plum sofa in the corner of my living room and place my little dog on it, draping a blanket around her so that she can snuggle into it.

  “Fine,” he mutters tersely while I’m repeatedly thinking about another man in indecent ways.

  Plopping down on the couch, I yawn, hinting I’m tired. Yet Keano doesn’t get the clue and sinks down next to me, throwing his arm around my shoulder and trying to cuddle with me until I lean forward, away from his hold.

  “Why are you still punishing me?” He sighs heavily.

  “I’m not doing it intentionally, Keano. I just still need some time to get over the fact that you cheated on me right after you fucked me!”

  “And you’ll never let me forget it,” he hisses. “But you also kissed Henry!”

  “That was just a kiss, and at least I was honest,” I defend, snarling, “I had to find out what you did from another girl.” Inhaling a deep breath, I drop my head into my hands. “I’m trying here.”

  “Are you? You always seem to want to give up so easily. I’ll give you more time, but you need to stop pushing me away.”

  Before I can reply, he stands up and disappears down the hall and through the first door into my bedroom. I don’t want him to sleep over, but I have other things on my mind, so I lie back on my couch and stare at a crack in the ceiling as I pull the blanket over my body. I’ve never gotten the feeling that Keano actually loves me, yet whether he does or doesn’t, I’m so bad with confrontation that I just keep letting things go. Even though this relationship is tainted and doomed, totally conflicting with
the picture-perfect kind of love I want. Thank god I haven’t slept with him after that first time.

  I simply don’t want to is my last thought before I drift off to sleep, where my dreams feature a certain hacker I shouldn’t be thinking about. He’s a man that goes from bed to bed, which is not something I want any part of.

  More importantly, it’s a dangerous path to travel with Henry being a member of the Syndicate. I’m basically afraid to risk my heart over a handsome, unattainable man.

  Maybe I should let him go before I waste any more of my life on a fantasy?

  ***

  The next day, I stroll into Adriano’s studio loft on the top floor of the Astoria Tower, not fifteen minutes from my apartment. I’m late on purpose, hoping the rest of the family will already be here and Adriano will be too busy to give me a long lecture.

  When I turn left, past the open kitchen where a delicious fragrance of fresh rolls wafts up, I find that everyone’s already gathered around the rectangular cherry table, and as I hoped, I’m the last one to arrive.

  I bump into Henry at the bar counter, and he eyes me in a way that makes me feel exposed and vulnerable. Usually, being watched makes me uncomfortable, but such attention coming from Henry feels different – warm. And I’m glad his anger from yesterday appears to have completely vanished. He’s not wearing his glasses today, and he looks irresistible in black jeans and an indigo V-neck tee that shows off his two tattoos, topped off with a Fedora hat.

  Before he can speak, Adriano and Carmine come bounding down the floating staircase from the open second level. Adriano has my one-month-old niece in his arms, so I hope that means he’ll be lenient. That is, until they both impale me with an icy stare.

  Clearly, Adriano told Carmine. Great!

  My older brothers are quite intimidating with their designer suits, dark eyes, unruly brown hair, and tall frames – I’m the only one who’s short in my family. Furthermore, it’s creepy how much Carmine resembles Adriano as he grows older, especially now that he’s his counselor and lawyer, also working full time for the Syndicate.

  “Mary,” Adriano starts, cuddling little Amalia, whom he’s outfitted in a pink dress with her diaper peeking out. “How often do I have to tell you to stay out of trouble?”

  My brothers let me live my life without their interference as long as I’m cautious, which I obviously failed at yesterday. “I wasn’t in trouble.”

  “You were lucky I was there,” Henry traitorously replies, but he does stand beside me, making me feel strangely secure.

  Carmine points his finger at me and pipes in, “One more of these incidents and you’re moving back to Mom and Dad’s.”

  Adriano and Carmine pay for my apartment because I told them it’s too difficult to live there with my parents since they don’t know about Adriano and Carmine’s mafia connections. Also, I needed more freedom. I know Carmine means well and he wouldn’t actually take my apartment, but the fact that he threatens me with it tells me I truly alarmed them.

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I just have to get used to being more careful. But you know how much I love dogs, so I had a good reason.”

  “Dogs?” Adriano raises a brow while Carmine rolls his eyes heavenward like he’s praying for patience.

  “It’s a rat.” Henry laughs, pointing at my Chihuahua, causing my brothers to smirk.

  “It’s a Chihuahua,” I correct him.

  “It sure looks like a rat,” Henry retorts, and I shoulder him playfully, grateful that he’s lightening the mood.

  “Forget the rat—dog,” I say as I glimpse at Henry and can’t help but snicker too.

  At that moment, Adriano’s wife, Cam, comes up behind me, stroking my pet. “I think the dog is lucky to have you as a mom, Mary.” Then she glances at Adriano and Carmine. “Are you guys finished chastising her so we can eat?”

  Adriano grins at her as if they share a secret and kisses Amalia’s head when she stretches her tiny, chubby limbs.

  “Yes, please, let’s eat,” I insist. “I’m starving. And I promise, no more rogue missions. Well, not before calling any of you.” I motion to all three of them, and they glower at me.

  Chuckling, I finally greet the rest of my family, who are already seated.

  As Cam sits back down in her chair and plates a mozzarella omelet and Italian sausage for him, Adriano takes his place at the head of the table, gazing at her and then Amalia with a look that melts my heart.

  I kiss Amalia’s sweet face and then Adriano’s cheek. “Don’t worry about me, okay?”

  “I’ll always worry about you, sis. But you’re in luck since, apparently, I’m getting softer because of my daughter.” As if on cue, Amalia opens her dark brown eyes and Adriano says, “Hi, my baby girl.”

  When she recognizes her father’s voice, she kicks her legs excitedly.

  I grab a fresh strawberry from the bowl, toss it into my mouth, and continue my rounds, pressing a kiss on Luca’s and then his wife, Fallon’s, cheeks. Luca’s my brother’s best friend and his underboss whom I’ve known for ten years and had a huge crush on when I was younger.

  “Hey, guys.” Lastly, I greet Logan – Adriano’s head captain – his fiancée, Rosalia, and their adorable son, Adam. Although Adam’s adopted, he has blond hair just like his father. Actually, Logan and Adam are the only blonds among our dark-haired group.

  Adriano, Luca, Logan, Carmine, and Henry are the most powerful men in the Chicago Syndicate. And while Logan and Luca are practically my third and fourth brothers, Henry’s definitely not like a brother to me.

  “Mary has a doggy!” Four-year-old Adam hops up in his chair as Rosalia and Logan, seated on either side of him, reach out to steady him so he doesn’t topple sideways.

  “I do. But she doesn’t have a name yet. Do you want to name her?” I sink down next to Henry.

  He nods eagerly and stares at his father like he can’t believe it.

  “Any name you want,” Logan explains.

  “Um...Strawberry!” Adam yells the first thing he spots on the table as everyone starts filling their plates with bread, eggs, and sausages.

  Logan and Rosalia laugh, and Henry mutters, “You asked,” before saying aloud, “I think it’s an awesome name, Adam.”

  As I glance sideways, I notice him inhaling deeply and pulling away.

  “Did you just sniff me?” I question in a hushed tone. More often lately, he gives the impression that he feels just as helpless in the face of our predicament as I do.

  A crease forms on his forehead, and he’s clearly flustered, because his eyes round for a second. “What? No,” he replies firmly and looks at Adam, so I drop it.

  “I like that: Strawberry,” I answer as Cam leans across the table to hand me a plate before pouring a coffee for me.

  “Here, your vegetarian sausages.”

  “Thank you.” I place Strawberry on the floor and she starts to hop around, evidently feeling much better than yesterday.

  Starving, I break off a chunk of fresh baked bread and load up my fork, shoveling my food into my mouth.

  “I’ve always wondered how those veggie sausages taste,” Henry says, focused on me and adding, “For a tiny woman, you do eat a lot.”

  “I love food. What can I say?”

  “Except meat,” he states, showing his teeth.

  “How’s your pig sausage?” I point my fork at his food and glance at his groin, causing him to shift uncomfortably.

  Inwardly, I smile as he takes a huge bite. “It’s delicious.”

  “So is mine.” I cut off a chunk, which Henry steals and pops into his mouth, chewing and then stopping, his lips in a thin line. Laughing, I ask, dreading the reply, “And?”

  He swallows slowly, drawling, “This is disgusting, Mary.”

  “It’s not disgusting,” I defend, but everyone else pipes in, “Yes, it is.”

  With a pretend glare to my brothers, I give up and direct my fork around the table. “You’re all meat addicts.”

  “An
d proud of it,” Logan and Henry brag in unison.

  “I wanna taste too, Mary,” Adam chimes in from opposite me.

  I feed him a bite, and he pushes it out of his mouth with his tongue just in time for Rosalia to catch it.

  “Don’t spit out food, little man,” Logan chides him, cleaning Rosalia’s hand with a napkin.

  “See. Even Adam rejects your food,” Henry teases.

  “Adam, you bailed on me,” I say around a smile.

  “I didn’t like it, Mary,” he responds sweetly.

  “That’s okay, pumpkin. I forgive you. You mostly like candy anyway. Henry just doesn’t know good food.”

  “Why only me?” He waves a hand around. “They all agreed with me.”

  I shrug and this time, our eyes meet and hold while the others are in conversation. For a moment too long for two people who are just friends. Unfortunately, he glances away.

  Then Adam puts in defensively in the cutest tone, “I don’t always just like candy. I-I eat sushi too.”

  “Me too,” I say, wanting him to forget my comment because I was just teasing him. “Especially the seaweed salad.” Actually, only the seaweed salad and soups. This prompts Adam to relay all his favorite foods, and I listen absentmindedly.

  Reaching forward, I pour a glass of water and observe my entire family, minus my mom and dad, who aren’t here. Adriano, Carmine, and I visit them separately because they don’t know about the Syndicate, and since the men discuss business sometimes, we don’t want to risk accidentally letting anything slip.

  As I watch them interact, I notice how everyone’s settled down, other than Carmine and me. And Henry. But I’m not sure Carmine ever will. However, a few years ago, I also thought Adriano would never marry. Throughout each of their lives, my brothers have left a trail of broken hearts in their wake, and Carmine still does, although he’s nearing thirty, so maybe he’ll grow up just like the rest of this group of thirtysomethings.

  Henry and I are the youngest. Maybe that’s the reason I’m drawn to him? But no matter what type of kinship I feel with him, he’s also a womanizer, just like Carmine.

  Studying Luca and Fallon, Adriano and Cam, and Logan and Rosalia, I realize that Keano and I don’t look at each other the way these couples do. As if they communicate with a mere glance, speaking a thousand words with a look of undeniable trust that only a true lover gives you. Their relationships seem textbook perfect, but strangely, I don’t feel sad about what I don’t have with Keano. The realization hits me hard until I’m distracted by the handsome man who suddenly scoots his chair away from the table, the legs screeching on the tiles when my dog tries to climb on him.