For Adriano

by Soraya Naomi

  For Adriano

  (Chicago Syndicate, #3)

  By Soraya Naomi

  For Adriano

  Copyright © 2014 by Soraya Naomi

  Published by Soraya Naomi

  First digital edition published by Soraya Naomi.

  Book 3 of Chicago Syndicate series.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief and correct quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Top Cover Photo credit: Conrado

  Bottom Cover Photo credit: David Niblack.

  For more information about the novel and author:

  WEBSITE

  FACEBOOK

  TWITTER

  INSTAGRAM

  GOOGLE+

  AMAZON AUTHOR

  “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” ~ Jean de La Fontaine.

  CHAPTER 1

  Adriano

  I stare out the small window of the plane into the clouds as we fly above them, leaving the warmth of Italy to head back to Chicago. Only a few other passengers occupy seats in first class, so it’s quiet.

  “Anything to drink, sir?” the flight attendant asks softly with a radiant smile.

  I look at her, shaking my head. “No, thank you, but I would like some more peanuts.”

  “I’ll be right back.” She moves away and actually returns within seconds, handing me the bag. “Sir.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart.” I wink at her, and she blushes innocently.

  She’s pretty, not a remarkable beauty, but she has full Angelina Jolie kissable lips, and I have a magnificent view of them.

  “Please let me know if there’s anything else you need, sir.” She locks eyes with me, the corner of her lip curving up.

  She’s not innocent at all, so I decide to play with her to get my mind off things. I need to shed this unidentified emotion I’ve been experiencing since leaving Luca and Fallon’s wedding. The wedding was a joyous occasion, and while I’m happy for my friend, witnessing their ceremony and their closeness made me wonder how it would feel to have that. A sense of melancholy strikes me when I realize that, in some way, I can relate to how they feel. I’ve never told anyone – not even my best friend, Luca – the heartache of Cam’s and my relationship, but lately, this sense that something’s missing has been coming over me more often.

  Maybe I’m in an early midlife crisis; turning thirty and all next month. Perhaps I just need a distraction.

  I eye the flight attendant slowly from head to toe. Yes, she’ll be a pleasant diversion.

  First, I should know her name, so I check her nametag: Cindy.

  Oh god, what an awful name.

  I’m not sure I hide my grimace when I read it.

  I pop a peanut into my mouth. “Anything, Cindy?”

  She bends down toward me and whispers seductively, “Anything.”

  Don’t you know men love the chase, Cindy?

  Although she’s making this too easy, I want to eliminate this nagging feeling seething beneath the surface, so I decide to take her up on the offer. She’s not enticing enough to fuck, but my dick did twitch a little when I gawked down her cleavage.

  She places her hand on my thigh, close to my crotch, and I smirk at her forwardness. My mind could definitely use the distraction.

  “What did you have in mind?” I ask.

  She squeezes gently and leads the way to the tiny bathroom.

  The other flight attendant turns away when we cram inside.

  Cindy kisses me as she pushes me back against the sink. It’s sloppy and wet.

  I take her head in my hands and drag my lips down her throat while tangling my fingers in her auburn hair. The color is dark and rich, just like Cam’s.

  Fuck no! I will not think of her.

  Cindy unbuckles my belt, and I guide her head down. Luckily, she sucks better than she kisses.

  And guess who I’m thinking about while she’s on her knees.

  Fuck it!

  I’m imagining it’s Cam’s sweet mouth on my skin.

  Growling my release, I attempt to pull her head back, but she swallows, peering up as her eyes glaze over expectantly.

  Baby, I’m not doing you.

  I secure my pants, and she clumsily tries to kiss me, but on instinct, I rear back – which is just a slam against the wall in this scant place.

  A look of hurt darts across her face, but she masks it.

  Good, because I’m not in the mood for more. I hate that Cam is always there in the forefront of my mind.

  As Cindy straightens her hair while looking over my shoulder into the mirror, I realize my best strategy is to be nice. Still five hours left on this flight, and I wouldn’t want her to spit in my food, so I place a kiss on her cheek and immediately feel the curve of a smile.

  “Thank you. I’ll let you get back to your work – wouldn’t want you to get into trouble,” I say.

  “I won’t get into trouble—”

  Lady, take the hint and go back to work, please.

  A little white lie won’t do any harm. “But I’ll be tempted to fuck you during the entire flight if we continue, Cindy. Now we have something to look forward to on my next flight.”

  “You fly to Italy often?” Hope fills her tone.

  No. I’ll probably never see her again, because I plan to exit this plane without exchanging personal information. “Yes.”

  An eager grin appears, and I quickly unlock the door.

  Cindy offers, “You know where to find me if you want more.”

  As I pass the other flight attendant, I throw her a wink, and an obvious blush crawls up her skin.

  After returning to my seat, I’m back to staring out the window with that exact same bleak feeling I’ve tried to dispel. But my problem is that the person I try not to think about is actually my next assignment. My number one priority as soon as I’m back in the States is finding Camilla Guillermo, my Cam, who I only just recently found out happens to be the daughter of my boss, my Capo crimine, James.

  I’m part of the Chicago Syndicate, which rules the drug traffic in Chicago. We are the Mafia, the Cosa Nostra, the Syndicate – as we call it. Our organization consists of four high ranks and many soldiers and associates who do the street work. Soldiers are our official members. Associates are people who work for us – politicians, journalists, cops, lawyers, entrepreneurs – but aren’t true members of the Syndicate.

  The four high ranking men are: one – Capo crimine/boss, James; two – underboss, Luca; three – Capo/captain, me; and four – Consigliere/counselor/lawyer, Salvatore. We also have other Capi who work below me and directly instruct most of the soldiers.

  Every ounce of drugs sold in the Chicago area comes from us. If I catch anyone smuggling drugs into Chicago and selling them in our territory without obtaining permission or paying us royalties, I find and execute them.

  Since Luca is going to be on his honeymoon for the next two weeks, I – be
ing his back-up – am in charge as underboss and will report directly to my Capo crimine/boss, James.

  As a Capo in the Chicago Syndicate, officially third in rank after James and Luca, I never take my duty lightly. James and Luca have put a lot of faith in me, and during the upcoming two weeks, I’ll be operating as underboss, second in command, while Luca is enjoying his new wife in Italy. And my only assignment is locating Camilla.

  Just a few weeks ago, James revealed that Cam is his biological daughter from an indiscretion in the first years of his marriage to Alessa. No members of the Syndicate – except for Luca and me – know she’s related to James. It was a shock to learn but did clarify why James had been personally looking for her recently instead of ordering one of us to do so.

  Before I found out Cam was his daughter, I only knew that James hired her after some altercation in a restaurant that got her fired. So James gave her a job bartending at the strip club in the Syndicate’s headquarters. Now I understand that that was James’s way of getting close to her. However, he never got the chance to tell Cam they’re family because I fired her after she tried to help Fallon escape our headquarters. I thought it was the only way to protect Cam; to let her leave, but then she vanished.

  Now I’m wondering if she’s had an agenda since the day she came to work for us, and I’m starting to believe that she might’ve had an ulterior motive all along.

  After Cam and Fallon’s escape attempt, a bomb exploded at our headquarters. I’ll never admit it, but I know deep down that Cam planted that device. Luca has also had his suspicions, and while I disagreed at first, it’s becoming ever more obvious that Cam’s guilty. Only, I haven’t the faintest clue as to why.

  My last lead to Cam’s whereabouts was in the Loop. Her passport and credit cards aren’t being used, and there’s no way she could’ve left the country, or even Chicago, without my knowing. And Fallon helped Cam financially several times before Luca and I found out, but now Cam doesn’t have anyone providing her with money – as far as I know – so she has to still be in the Loop.

  How is she living? How is she surviving?

  Cam worked for us for a year and a half, and during that time, she was a constant, beautiful, yet difficult-to-manage, disruption to my perfectly organized sex life. I fucked them and left them, no promises – ever. Never did a woman get close to me, except for a quick fuck.

  But I coveted Cam from the moment I was first introduced to the Italian enigma, and I also kept going back to her, which was a novelty for me. She doesn’t even know how far she’s gotten under my skin.

  I remember nights when I’d drive up north to our headquarters just to be with her. Other girls in the strip club are interchangeable, and they entertain all our Mafia men. However, I claimed Cam her first night there, and no one has been permitted to touch her since – I couldn’t stand the thought of sharing her.

  We spent many nights together, and even though she didn’t like to talk about her life, I at least thought I knew something about the type of person Cam was. But since she left, I’ve dug up so many new things about her that it’s made me realize I hardly knew her at all. I found out about the bomb. I learned she used to work in a hardcore sex establishment, Club 7. She grew up in foster care. I finally comprehend why Cam was always closed off; she didn’t have an easy life.

  I most recently discovered Cam’s a Mafia princess, although she doesn’t know it yet. And now, James has ordered me to find her but keep my hands to myself; she’s off limits. Since his secret is out, he’s forbidden me to continue any sexual relationship with her because it’s against the hierarchy of the Syndicate. I won’t risk my position as Capo, but unfortunately, my dick usually overrules my mind when it comes to women, especially when it comes to Cam.

  I plow a hand through my hair and let my head fall back against the seat. Closing my eyes, I evoke every second of our first meeting.

  *

  Two years and three months ago

  As I climb the stairs to the strip club of the Syndicate’s three-story headquarters, located alongside the North Shore of Chicago’s suburbs, I already recognize voices coming from the room at the end of the hall.

  I’m greeted by Luca and James, who are in the middle of the room beside the rounded burgundy sofa. I nod to both of them and fix my focus on the unknown woman with an attractive bob standing next to James. I’m usually not a fan of women with short hair, but who is this delectable creature?

  James takes his cue to introduce us. “Adriano, meet Camilla. She’ll be working here at the club from now on.”

  Why did he suddenly hire someone new? We’re not understaffed.

  I can’t help but stare at her. My god, her legs go on forever; she’s just a bit shorter than I am, and I’m over six feet tall. I inspect her body slowly, like no one is watching, and when I reach her face, I’m pleasantly stunned that she’s challenging me with an arc of her perfectly shaped eyebrow. Her eyes are deep brown, heavily lashed, and slightly tilted up at the corners. Her cheeks are delicately boned. She looks absolutely appetizing in a tight, black knee-length dress. Sexy, yet not too revealing. In other words, she’s smokin’ hot!

  “Camilla, nice to meet you.” I go old-school, take her hand in mine, and kiss her knuckles.

  Luca hides an eye-roll, but I catch it and grin.

  “Adriano,” she says huskily.

  Her voice is hoarse. Hoarse in the sexiest way I’ve ever encountered. I didn’t expect that sensual voice to accompany this striking woman who smells like vanilla. With her, my obsession for vanilla ignited.

  “Welcome to our little establishment.” Then I address James while holding on to her hand, “What will she be doing here?”

  “Bartending,” James answers.

  “Then I better show her the ropes.” I let the pad of my thumb swirl over her fingers, and she shivers noticeably; she’s not immune to my charms.

  And I guide this interesting woman to the bar, which is a stainless steel and black granite area that’s open at each end and set up like a juice bar.

  She speaks before we step behind it. “I can make drinks.”

  Her simple statement has me confused.

  “You look like you don’t believe I can tend the bar,” she elaborates.

  Oh no, sweetheart, I’m not doubting your qualifications. I’m just staggered by the sex vibes you’re throwing around with that voice and those gorgeous lean legs.

  I smirk while extending my hand, inviting her behind the bar. “No, I believe you.”

  That was the first night I tried to get Cam into my bed. I failed that night and for over three months after and almost gave up my chase, but it was too much fun to try to capture her. I don’t even think she liked me at first.

  *

  I’m jarred from my thoughts by heavy turbulence and the ping of the seatbelt sign, so I adjust my belt.

  Where are you now, Cam?

  She’s been missing for nine months. My first soldier, Damian, has been working around the clock to find any clue about Cam’s hiding place. I’m hoping for a positive update when my plane lands at Chicago O’Hare Airport. I have to find her, to know that she’s safe, but more importantly, I need to talk to her before James or Luca does.

  CHAPTER 2

  Camilla

  I sit here in this crappy one-bedroom apartment with paint peeling off the yellow colored walls. Before me on the bed is all my cash. It’s a pathetic pile totaling thirty-five dollars. I rummage my hands through my annoyingly long strands of hair in hopelessness. The rent for this place has been paid until the end of the month, which is today, but if I can’t pay for next month, I’ll be forced out.

  I bite my nail while my stomach growls in hunger, and I’m tempted to withdraw the fifty dollars I have in my checking account. But as soon as I do that, they’ll know where to find me.

  In the nine months that I’ve been on the run, I’ve been living off cash only and haven’t left an electronic trail. A friend helped me hide in Iowa, but whe
n I was told that the Chicago Syndicate was on the hunt for me, I became more and more fearful all the time.

  I ran nine months ago because of my former employer, Fat Sal, the owner of Club 7, the Loop’s most debauched underground sex club. Fat Sal is a ruthless Mafia man, and I’m a liability to him.

  And apart from Sal, the Chicago Syndicate is also looking for me now. The only reason why they would want me is because of a small device – a bomb – I accidentally dropped outside their headquarters. I never even realized I dropped it; it must’ve fallen out of my pocket the night I helped Fallon escape. I got it from Club 7 and always had it with me in case of danger. Later, I heard it had detonated, and I’m pretty sure the Syndicate knows I’m guilty – they’ll never believe it was an irresponsible accident.

  “I can’t believe this!” Discouraged, I swipe the money off the bed with my arm and groan. I’ve never been this broke.

  Ever since my mom died of cancer when I was sixteen, I’ve been on my own. I did finish high school while I was in foster care for two years, but I never had the funds to pay for college, and without a college degree, all I could land was a waitressing job in the Loop. I didn’t earn much, but at least I could pay my bills and survive, even if I was living from paycheck to paycheck. I was proud of being able to take care of myself. But I also lived a lonely existence. Sometimes I met new friends, but friendships never lasted somehow. And I had absolutely no family. I always felt a little lost.

  My fifth waitressing job was at Club 7. I met Fat Sal when I started working there, at the official Club 7, which is the legal dance club on the first floor. The pay was decent, but the owner was very strict. I’d overhead rumors of an exclusive VIP area underground, which piqued my interest because I thought I could possibly make more money working there. But the employees of the dance club and the underground area were always kept separate, so no matter who I asked, I couldn’t find anyone who knew anything specific about the VIP area. Until I met a new colleague as I was leaving work one day, and she let it slip that she worked in the underground club. She was one of the hostesses, and we became casual friends.