Adriano & Cam

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Adriano & Cam Page 29

by Soraya Naomi


  Someone shuffles up behind me, and I glance sideways as a pair of worn out stilettos stop next to me – Skye. I’m not in the mood for any of these girls, so I stand up to prevent her from towering over me. Even though she’s wearing heels, I’m still taller than she is.

  She stares ahead into the distance. “I told you before; Adriano’s a fuck ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy. You have his devotion now, for a while. But soon, he’ll come back to me. Who do you think he came to when you were gone?”

  I let out a loud snort and grab a handful of her thin locks, wrapping my fingers through them.

  “What the fuck?” she howls, and her hands fly to her hair.

  “Listen to me, you little skank. You’re not even worthy of our time. He doesn’t want you. And he sure as hell never fucked you when I was gone. Now, do you know”—I jerk her head back and pinch her throat—“that I am James’s daughter?”

  “What?! Let go, bitch!” Skye’s stumbling while I drag her backward.

  “Yes, too bad for you—”

  A throat clears behind me, and I see Luca and Adriano, both wearing highly amused expressions.

  “Oh my god, help me!” Skye cries.

  I constrict my grip while she lamely tries to slap me in the face. “Do you want to fuck her, Adriano?”

  He holds up both palms, obviously entertained to see what I’m going to do. “Nope!”

  “I hope it’s clear,” I hiss into her ear and throw her forward to the men.

  They step aside and let her fall onto her knees right in front of the door.

  Adriano comes to me with a giant grin on his face and places my hand against his balls. “It gets me so hard when you’re possessive of me.”

  Meanwhile, Skye is whining and sending daggers at our display until Adriano turns to her and says, “Chill out, Skye. You don’t want to piss Cam off more. Even I’m a little scared.”

  I roll my eyes.

  And finally getting that she’s not wanted here, Skye scurries inside disgracefully.

  “She’s annoying,” I mutter just as James appears and expects me to follow him to his car.

  Adriano stops me and rests his hand on my ass while James is walking down the steps with his back toward us, and he whispers, “See you tomorrow. Give me a quick kiss.”

  “No. I’m still annoyed.”

  “You’re not annoyed at me,” he complains comically, dissipating the tension.

  “You don’t ever touch any of these women, got it?!”

  “Never. And, Cam, the same goes for you, but I’m not even stating it,” he speaks with a dare. “Now kiss me.”

  I peck him on the lips, and he squeezes my ass before I go to James.

  When I look back over my shoulder and see his boyish, charismatic smile, my heart skips a beat.

  ***

  The day of attack. Every base is covered. Teams are already on the way to the Loop with James.

  Henry is set up in this house, in James’s office. He is our command center.

  In order for us to control the media, our associates who are journalists at the Chicago Times and Tribune are on standby to intercept any contact from sources reporting illegal activity in the Club 7 area. Other smaller media can be easily bought. People on our payroll at the Chicago P.D. and the DEA are informed to terminate and erase any irregularity concerning Club 7 tonight. If any security system triggers anything, Henry is on standby to dismantle it.

  James explained that this is all a precaution in case Wade fails to deliver, since it’s the first time the Syndicate and Wade are collaborating.

  I’m in Luca’s private room on the third floor of our headquarters wearing a tight black cat suit – one I’m not positive isn’t a catwoman Halloween costume. It’s made of a thick, firm material and zips up the front.

  Who the hell takes care of uniforms around here?

  I easily load my second handgun, the one with a silencer attached to the barrel, and stash it in the belt around my waist. I feel strong, yet nervous. This organization is good at occupying its soldiers and controlling their nerves until the moment the attack starts. There isn’t a second where you get to stop and overthink anything.

  Once I’m ready, I roll my neck and head down to search for my team on the first floor. Adriano, Luca, and a handful of soldiers gape at me, but then everyone looks away as I stand in the doorway, except for Adriano, who’s dressed in charcoal slacks and a long-sleeve shirt that draws attention to his toned body. He scans the length of me with a gleam in his eyes, and his hands rest on my hips as he shifts closer.

  “What’s up with this outfit?” I groan.

  He sends me a guilty look. “That’s my doing. I thought it’d look hot on you, and woman, it does!”

  He growls in my ear and bites the shell, making me feel anxious.

  Should we do this in front of these soldiers?

  “Is it uncomfortable?” he asks.

  It’s actually not uncomfortable. “No.”

  Adriano takes my wrist and attaches a hard plastic black bracelet; one like the other soldiers received yesterday. “Your tracking device.” And he adds in a severe tone, “This is your first time with us in an official capacity. I shouldn’t worry, but when it concerns you, that’s like asking me not to breathe. You stay with me, Cam. If we get separated”—he shows me a round white earpiece—“I have one for you. Don’t use it unless we lose one another. No one knows I have one extra for you. If you need it, click it on and put it in your ear.” He stores it in my pocket. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” I answer.

  “Let’s go.”

  ***

  It’s ten p.m. What I didn’t know is that another team has already gone in and lured out dozens of patrons that are positively not part of Fat Sal’s crew. It’s not busy now, but anyone left in the club will be collateral damage.

  There’s a road block at the back entrance of Club 7 preventing anyone from going inside. Cars are parked blocks away, and many come on foot. One soldier moves the road block and drives through with a truck following behind; the clean-up truck, so I’ve been told.

  The easiness of the last couple of days has been replaced with apprehension in the hour ride over here. Everyone’s subdued, preparing mentally for what’s to come. Adriano’s holding my hip in a clutch that reveals his hidden angst. I’m almost in his lap, crammed in the back seat of a station wagon with four people.

  “Everyone on alert?” Adriano asks.

  “Yes,” I and the other soldiers reply.

  I open the door, and we jump out, shadowed by dozens of others coming from different directions.

  One soldier touches his earpiece, and the entrance unlocks. As it’s sliding open, everyone latches on to their gun, and we run inside, Adriano and three other men leading the way, past the vibrant pop art displayed on the wall. As we approach the archway, a hostess comes into view.

  “What the hell?” She ducks and aims a gun at me and the rest as she inches back.

  One soldier charges at her and hurls the gun from her grip while the other hooks his arm around her neck. A clear plastic bag is draped over her head, and she’s shot in the temple. A mass of red explodes inside the plastic, containing the mess, and her body goes slack.

  Adriano looks at me and states, “It’s either her or you, Cam. And I will always choose you over everyone else.”

  The elevator mechanism starts to make noise, notifying us that someone’s coming up.

  “Don’t think. Move.” Adriano touches his earpiece. “Henry, shut system Alpha off.”

  Then everything goes black, and he twines my fingers with his and yanks me forward until I crash into him. I hear feet shuffling and men breathing in the dark hall, and I’m trying my best to stay alert and follow their rapid movements, but it’s chaotic.

  The elevator comes to a halt, and a vertical ray of light appears, wider and wider as the doors open. Adriano and four other soldiers raise their handguns, and they shoot the three guards standing in the
elevator in the head before they’ve even seen us.

  “Take the bodies,” Adriano orders, and they’re being heaved away as too many of us crowd into the elevator and descend.

  On the first stop, five men step out, and we continue on down to the underground fight club, our aim on the doors as they open into the empty, lighted hallway from where I escaped so long ago.

  Everyone’s about to disperse – four men shielding Adriano – when from the end of the hall, a swarm of guards appear. A massive shoot-out begins, and I stoop low while Adriano is cocking his gun and firing his round. One soldier at the front gets shot, but we move out of the elevator anyway.

  Adriano covers me while I push the button to send it back up, and he shouts, “Stay down!” as gunpowder and smoke settle in the air around us.

  The shooting ends, so I lift my weapon when I can see again through the haze, and thankfully, only our men are standing. Red drips down the walls to the floor, and dead bodies are scattered. Stepping over four of them, we all go in different directions.

  Some rooms to both our left and our right lead to new passageways, and I guide Adriano to the room I was held captive in – where we hope to find Santino and John.

  In the familiar beige room, two abused girls are drugged out on the beds, one bed that used to be mine.

  Adriano checks the bathroom while I safeguard the hall.

  “Clear,” he says. “No one’s here.”

  Footsteps come into earshot, and I hide behind the doorframe. A guard appears from around the corner, and I pull the trigger, hitting his shoulder. I discharge again, right in his chest, and he falls down.

  “Update on John?!” Adriano yells into his earpiece and then shakes his head to me; no one has found Capo John yet.

  “Upstairs,” I say. “Maybe they’re both in the room near Fat Sal’s office where I last saw Santino. We’re one floor too low.”

  “We can’t go upstairs now. We stick to our plan.”

  We peek into the hall as two of our own soldiers come into view, guns targeted at us, then they lower them.

  “Is everyone down?” Adriano demands to know.

  “Yes, all teams are in place. Upstairs has been easily seized. Fat Sal hasn’t been located, but we have the staff and guards under control.”

  “How many guards are still walking around down here?”

  “Approximately twenty, definitely fewer than our number of soldiers.”

  “Henry, did the silent alarm trigger? Where’s everyone?” Adriano asks.

  All of a sudden, everything goes black again, and a frenzy explodes.

  “Motherfucker!” Adriano’s voice echoes through my eardrums. “Henry, did you turn off the lights? What’s going on? Turn them on! CAM?!”

  “Yes, I’m here.” I’m moving forward, touching left and right. My gun scrapes the wall so I can walk in a straight line.

  “Camilla!” His voice is farther away now, so I turn in the other direction. “Cam! Where the fuck are you? Turn on these lights now, Henry!”

  Feet are shuffling, and someone leaps into me.

  “CAM!”

  “I’m here!” I scream.

  A gun fires and illuminates the hall for a second, revealing a now jam-packed space.

  And I spot Adriano’s furious eyes. “Turn on the fucking lights!”

  Darkness again, and I’m being hurled into the wall, but I grip my gun and swing backward, causing someone to grunt.

  “Come,” a male voice says to me.

  I’m lurched forward by the hand but protest and wrench free. I hear a door closing or opening, and abruptly, I’m being lifted off my feet onto someone’s shoulder and carried through the dark. My equilibrium is disoriented from the blackness and loss of direction. We stumble against walls, I drop my handgun, and my skull bangs against a hard surface.

  Then the lights flick on, and I sink my nails into a thick neck and kick air until he loses his footing and I can slide off his shoulder.

  And I come eye to eye with the person I was searching for. “Santino.”

  Santino’s blood-streaked long hair is tied in a loose knot, and he has a bandage around his head because he’s missing an ear. His arms are covered in bruises and scratches.

  “I knew you’d come back. Are you okay?” he asks and embraces me, taking me by surprise.

  We’re in a room with exits at opposite walls.

  My head is throbbing.

  “This place is under attack. Fat Sal is already on the run. I overpowered my guard the second I heard the commotion. We need to leave.” He hauls me forward, but I stop, and since he’s so weak, I’m able to twist free.

  “We need to go back to where we came from.” I search my pockets for the earpiece, and it’s gone. “Shit! Which way did we come in?”

  “We need to leave this place,” Santino persists.

  He’s going to be stubborn, and I don’t have time to chat now. But I know all these passages are connected in a circle.

  “Fine. We need to keep going.” I need to get to the fight club area anyway.

  CHAPTER 39

  Adriano

  The dark is finally lifted, and I’m confronted with Fat Sal’s guards and my own.

  Frantic gunfire ensues, and I dive around the corner as a bullet scrapes my bicep.

  Where the fuck did Cam go?

  My only concern is finding her. While I know she’s cunning and smart enough to comprehend when she needs to run, she’s still in training. And if a group of men attack her, she’ll have a difficult time fighting them off alone; that’s why she was ordered to stay with me.

  With my weapon against my chest, I shout into my earpiece, “Henry, locate Cam. Luca, James, Cam’s missing. I want two more teams down here.”

  “Fuck!” I hear James swearing.

  “I’m coming down with ten men,” Luca confirms.

  Henry answers, “Adriano, Cam is near you, but she’s moving fast toward the club area.”

  “Is the fight club contained? There are still many guards walking around down here.” I move to the other corner of the hall, remembering that it will lead me to the fight club.

  I can hear guns unloading from different ends of the corridor. A guard runs right into me as he turns the corner, and I smash him against the wall, plant the barrel into his heart, and launch my bullet, letting the body slouch down.

  Another one comes up with his aim on me, and I look behind him, making him glance away, then I catapult the revolver from his grip with my own weapon and blast him in the chest twice.

  “Where’s John?” I inquire into my earpiece as I race forward in this maze over so many bodies and crimson blotches everywhere, making the floor slippery.

  Capo Alessandro replies, “I’m outside the last three rooms. He must be in one of these.”

  James informs us, “I’ve entered the fight club. I need more men too.”

  “Everyone downstairs to the fight club except Team Alessandro,” I order. “Henry, guide each team to that area.”

  Rifles are being fired; my soldiers aren’t using their handguns anymore, which means I’m hearing James’s team.

  “I’ve got John,” Alessandro calls in.

  “Move him out, Alessandro,” James yells.

  “Henry,” I say, wanting an update on Cam. “Cam has an earpiece too. Cam, do you hear me?” Panic seethes in my soul the longer I’m apart from her.

  “She’s not on line, Adriano, but she stopped moving. Go left now, then take the second corridor to your right. She’s in the fourth room.”

  I go in the direction he mentioned.

  “She’s still there,” Henry updates me.

  Fright is ringing in my ears, and I’m so preoccupied with finding her that I don’t detect the men behind me. An arm hooks around my throat, and I stagger backward but am able to get my balance and lurch down, flinging him over me. Another one plants his fist in my cheek while I rise up, so I shoot the first one in the knee and kick his gun away.

  The
n with murderous grunts and my head bent down, I lunge into the stomach of my other attacker and cannon him against the wall, releasing bullets into his side. He collapses to the ground with a bellow of pain.

  Something hits my side, and a burning agony bursts out, causing me to drop sideways. My weapon slips from my hand, and a shot resounds.

  “Adriano, it’s safe. Get up!” Luca shouts while checking both exits of the hall.

  “Fourth room,” I croak out while sucking in a breath and standing up, lightheaded, with a palm against the wall for support. I bite down any discomfort, pick up my gun, and sprint to the room.

  Opening the door, I raise my piece and move it to the left and right. “Henry, it’s fucking empty!”

  “No, she’s there. At least her—”

  “Tracking device is,” I finish through gritted teeth, spotting the black band on the floor.

  When I step back out to Luca, I see that the door handle is covered with bloodied fingerprints. “Something’s wrong. She would never take it off. Where’s Santino?”

  Luca’s with four other men, including Damian. He now yells to the rest of the men through his earpiece, “Does anyone have Santino?”

  “Negative.”

  “Negative.”

  Everyone’s reply is no.

  “Does anyone have Fat Sal?” I ask.

  “Negative.”

  Alessandro says, “According to what John overheard, there’s one underground exit that leads to the L station. He thinks it’s situated in the fight club.”

  James confirms, “I’m having men check the passages. We’ve taken control of the fight club.”

  I conclude, “Everyone to the fight club. Teams two and three, keep watch in all the halls. The rest, to the club.”

  Luca is throwing his arms out in different directions, snarling additional orders when I notice the hidden door in the room.

  “Luca, I’m taking this exit.” I trace the barrel of my pistol along the marking on the wall and feel around until it clicks open.

  “You two, go with him.” I can hear Luca command as I’m entering a long, dimly lit corridor that we didn’t know existed.

 

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