by Ali Parker
Whatever You Need
The Castaletta Syndicate, Book 2
by
ALI PARKER
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Table of Contents
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Description
Free Novella
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
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Description
Just because you're family doesn't mean you're safe.
The search for Vivian's killer continues, and the more Izabella digs into the darkness, the closer she comes to her brother Freddy.
The syndicate is being held together by a string as Demetri works to get the narcotics ring covered with some help from a couple down in New Orleans who come highly recommended.
Just as things start to calm a little, the violence within the prostitution rings turns deadly.
Someone is targeting the girls and picking them off one-by-one. But who?
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Lizzy and Hunter have grown up together, but the decision to share an apartment their freshman year of college unlocks feelings they’ve always had, but never explored. Come enjoy this ‘coming of age’ novella. You don’t wanna miss out.
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Whatever You Need
The Castaletta Syndicate, Book 2
Copyright © 2016 by Ali Parker
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and plot are all either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons – living or dead – is purely coincidental.
First Edition.
Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations
Chapter 1
Demetri
I poured another glass of whiskey as Joe and Marco argued behind me about where we would go next. Freddy had fucked up the drug ring, sold us out to the Kallup boys and skipped town.
At least that's what the evidence pointed to.
Izabella wanted me to rush out into the city and search for the asshole, but it wasn't happening. I cared about the kid like he was a brother, but there was far more to deal with than tracking down Freddy. I would leave that to one of his true siblings.
"I want the goddamn tapes. Now!" Joe's voice filled the whole room and seemed to shake the walls with it's power.
I turned and lifted my glass to my lips, taking a small sip. The doors to the office were open and I could see a sliver of the glass doors that ran along the back of the house. The pool was almost iridescent as the moon played across it's surface. Izzy was hunched over on the side of it, her long black hair covering her face and hiding her pain from me.
"I don't have the tapes, Papa. We just found out tonight that-" Marco tried to explain the situation to Joe, but the Don wasn't having any of it.
"Who's looking for them? D?"
I nodded. "We'll set up something with the Kallups tomorrow Joe. Freddy killed one of them tonight and ran like a scalded rabbit, leaving Izabella and Marco to clean up his shit. The narcotics ring needs to be dealt with quickly, which is at the top of my list."
"Lay it all out. Now. Every fucking bit of it." Joe crossed his arms over his thick chest and walked from the far side of his desk to stand a few feet from me.
Marco sighed heavily and dropped down into the chair closest to him. He was Joe's oldest, and yet he didn't have half the courage his father did. The mafia was a poor fit for him, and yet he was being primed to take over.
I finished my drink and set the glass down. "From what I understand, Freddy contacted the Kallup boys asking to join their crew. This comes from Thomas Kallup. Freddy says they threatened his life and he joined them as a rat in our camp."
"Fucking kid." Joe ran his hand through his salt and pepper hair. "I told Viv that he wasn't fit for this shit."
"Not many people are, dad." Marco waved his hand around dramatically.
"Shut up," Joe barked and turned back to me. "And the Kallups are being controlled by Coopers Syndicate out in Cali?"
"Yeah, but I haven't verified that yet, Joe. This is all-"
"Stop backtracking and tell me what I need to know. What's gotten into you? Marco bleed his long-winded whining onto you?"
I bristled at the idea of it. "No. The boys in California aren't run by Terrance Cooper any more. He passed away a few years back. His son, Adam, who's in his thirties is calling the shots now."
"No wonder there's no damn respect being shown. The kid probably has no clue who he's dealing with. He's about to find out."
"We got a gun runner down there named Rodney that we work with a little. If we're planting in Cooper’s camp, that's the right place to make it happen."
Marco spoke up, "And just who exactly would we plant down there? Everyone here is working the position of three people, you included, dad."
"We'll figure it out," I mumbled as I brushed my fingers over my lips. "Freddy killed Thomas' twin brother, Lance tonight. He must have thought it was Thomas he took out. They're going to go after him with a vengeance."
"And they should." Joe's voice rose significantly. "And the little fucker expects my protection? He can think again."
"Next topic would be the drug ring. Selma's son knows a guy down in New Orleans that could possibly help us out. He's not family, but I spoke with him early this week and with Selma backing him up-"
"Fine. Just keep a close eye on him. I'm not having another hemorrhage from within our syndicate, or it's your balls I'll come after. Understood?"
I nodded. I knew what I'd signed up for, and I wouldn't fail the old bastard no matter what it took. If I did, then I deserved the hell that would rain down on me from it.
"I'm meeting with him tomorrow. I'll take Izzy with me and we'll figure it out. No need to worry about the drug ring."
"I'm not. I have you." He pointed at me. "Just do your job and hand over some of the shit on your list. Stop trying to half-ass run everything. You have Capos for a reason, Demetri. Fucking use them."
"Right." I glanced over at Marco, wishing the bastard would stand up and take ownership of something. Anything. "The situation at the whore house is getting worse. Three girls were beaten and sent back to Sandra in the last week or so. Edward has cameras up now, and we should be able to-"
"Not we. Who's going to deal with that, ‘cause you ain't. You got the drug ring situation you're going to focus on." He lifted his eyebrow and took a few menacing steps toward me. "And who's looking for my wife's killer
. I'm about to start doing that my fucking self if we don't figure something out. The trail is growing cold."
"Dad. You just told him to delegate, and then you tell him to take care of everything himself or you're going to eat his balls?" Marco got up and walked to the door. "Give me something to do. Now. I'm heading to bed, but throw something at me, and I'll be on it in the morning."
"Find your mother's killer, boy. And don't disappoint me." Joe glanced toward the door and back at me. "Get Edward and Daniel to deal with the prostitution ring. No one is dead yet, right?"
"No, but we don't want it to end up that way either. I really don't like the idea of Marco-"
"Tough shit. He's doing it. Edward and Daniel on the whore house. Period."
I forced myself not to let any emotion show through. Joe didn't appreciate it, and I rarely showed it. Seeing that tension was high as hell in the house, none of us needed additional drama, and if we did, it sure as fuck wasn't coming from me.
"What else?" Joe walked back to his desk and sat down, grabbing his reading glasses and perching them on his nose.
"The cop. Izzy thinks she has him under control, but I'm not sure how long we're going to hold onto him. You and I are going to have to drag him in deep, get some shit on him and blackmail him to help us. We're not going to be able to depend on Izzy to keep up the loving relationship bullshit she's having to do now."
"Says you or her?" His lip turned up in a smirk.
"Me." I walked over and picked up my glass. "You seriously don't think Freddy had anything to do with Vivian's death, do you, Joe? I know he's fucked up, but he loved her. I know he did."
Joe leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, letting out a long painful-sounding sigh.
"I don't know what I believe." He rubbed his hand over his chest. "Rico should have been there to guard her, but you know how she was." He smiled sadly. "She wanted her privacy, time to sneak off and get me a present."
"Don't do this."
"No, really. Let's think about it. She wanted to get away and didn't think about what might or could happen." His eyes adverted toward the desk. "Who would know her schedule, D? How did they know that my woman would be on the far side of town? Better yet, how did they know that she would be alone? I need to know."
"We all do." I hated the pain that brushed across his stoic features, but I had nothing to offer him. He needed concrete evidence and a body to torture. I had ideas and hypothesis, but nothing that would end his pain.
"Why would someone kill her, D?"
"You know the answer to that. To get back at you. To grab your attention and scream in your goddamn face that they're bigger and badder than you."
His vibrant blue eyes opened slowly and I had to stifle a shiver from going down my spine. He'd sold his soul to the devil a long time ago to be the man he was. I had no doubt it was the same path I was on, but I'd be sure to fight it for as long as I could. With no real heir to take his place, I knew I was next in line. Marco could pretend he was, and Joe could hope for the best, but we all really knew the truth.
It would be me or Izabella, and I'd never let her take the Don position. She'd grow more dangerous and deadly, losing the last of her softness while the world beat down her door and hell waiting with baited breath for her to stumble.
"Get Jonathan to pull the surveillance cameras near the alley where Vivian was murdered, D. Let's see if we can figure out who these guys were."
"There were four of them, and none of them match the description of the Kallup boys. They're all tall and thin. These guys were big, football player size."
"I would never have thought the Kallups ballsy enough to come up against us, but they have. Killing Vivian is a little out their league, don't you think?"
I took a quick breath and walked to the door. "You never know what a man is truly capable of until you force him to do it."
"True. What does this Adam Cooper have that's caused these common street thugs to step onto my turf and do anything other than bow?"
"I don't know Joe, but I promise you this... I'm gonna find out." I walked through the door and closed it behind me.
The silence in the house was comforting. I stood outside the office and glanced to my left, watching Izabella as she sunk down into the water fully clothed. Strange emotions rolled up from the depth of my stomach and left me strangled with indecision.
Help her? Offer myself to her? Ignore everything I promised myself?
I took the few steps to the back door and pressed my hands against the glass, memorizing the long line of her body as she swam through the water. A dark angel in the midst of her agony, lost to anything but her own pain. How badly I wanted to sink down into the water with her, to promise her redemption in any form she would accept it.
Six years.
It'd been six years since I felt her move against me, since I'd held her in a way that truly spoke of the passion locked up inside of me. I reached for the door handle and paused as memories assaulted me.
How many times had I made love to her in that pool? Pressed her against the side and worked myself deep inside of her, reminding her that it was me who owned her. No one else.
"You going out?" Marco's voice surprised me, but I didn't react.
"Probably best that I didn't." I glanced over my shoulder at him.
"Or maybe it's the perfect time to let your guard down." He shrugged and walked toward the kitchen. "I'll hit you up tomorrow."
"Alright." I turned back to the pool and pushed the door closed, ignoring the painful throb below my belt. It couldn't be about sex. We had too much history, too much pain that we shared between the two of us.
It was Izzy who helped me tuck my brother Drake away. Her that stood beside me at my father's funeral. Her who held me while I broke down over my mother dying. She was and would always be mine.
Too bad it was nothing more than an idea. A hypothetical.
Chapter 2
Izabella
I could feel his eyes on me far before his dark shadow caught my attention. There wasn't much to say between us. Hell, there wasn't much to say in general. All the evidence pointed to my little brother being the one who set my mother up to die.
"Not die," I whispered and turned back to the house, not wanting to focus on D. "She was murdered. Violently raped and murdered."
The horror of my words washed over me, causing my skin to break out in goosebumps and a chill to rush down my spine. Fear wasn't something I was used to entertaining, but the idea of having to gun down my baby brother terrified me.
I'd been there when he was born, held him in the first few minutes of his life with my father's help. My father.
Sadness swept through me and I exhaled, dropping down below the surface of the water. Freddy wasn't my father's kid. He belonged to another man, my mother's lover that I never knew about. Was it D's father? Big Papa and my dad had been so close, almost like brothers. Was D's father's death an accident, or was my father responsible for it? Maybe my thoughts were headed in the wrong direction completely, but it didn't feel like it.
Was Freddy's dad really dead? Marco didn't think so.
I pressed my feet to the bottom of the pool and pushed hard, breaking the surface as my thoughts dissipated. It wasn't something I was going to figure out in my own head. I didn't know enough, but I knew that evidence existed that would possibly shed some light in the darkness.
After checking to make sure D wasn't hovering in the doorway to the mansion, I walked up the stairs and grabbed a thick blue towel from beside the pool. A variety of questions took turns stealing my attention as I walked into the house, soaking wet and caring about nothing. The sweet numbness that saved me from feeling too much my whole life, wrapped around me tighter than any terry-cloth towel might.
I had to go back to the warehouse. It was dangerous and stupid, but I needed answers. Freddy had to have something out there that might clear him from being the one that lead mother to her death.
"Or maybe there's evidence
pointing to the fact that it was him." I jogged up the stairs and brushed my long dark hair from my face. Either way, I wanted to get my hands on whatever might be out there so that control remained in my court. No one else would think twice about killing him, but I knew mother would want differently, even if she'd lost her life because of him.
She would have been willing to sacrifice for any of us, all the way to the very end. No matter what.
"Who's your daddy, Freddy?" I closed my door behind me and changed quickly, not affected by the silliness of my own question. The future rested too heavily on the answer.
The need to ride my motorcycle as fast and furiously as possible rode me as I finished tying my black boots. Freddy had stolen it from me, but I knew there were a few others back in the garage. No one would mind me borrowing one, and I needed the thrill of the wind in my hair to remind me that I was still alive and tomorrow would come. The truth would eventually make itself known as it always did, and we would move past all of this shit. We had to.
We were Castaletta's. Surviving is what we did.
*
The smell of vomit hit me the minute I walked into the office, but I ignored it. With my gun drawn, I moved around the room, checking not only the confines of the office, but the rest of the warehouse as well. There was no reason to leave anything to chance and give my father more ammo to burn down the city.
"What were you doing, Freddy?" I walked over to his desk and laid my gun down. The picture beside his computer was one of him, me, momma and Marco. We'd taken it for my father for father's day a few years back. We were wrapped in a group hug and looked far too much like a normal family. I reached for the small frame, unable to help myself.
After brushing the dust from it, I set it back down and wiped my hands on my black t-shirt. The office was a holy hell nightmare of a mess, and yet it was completely my little brother's personality. Messy and unorganized, content to just be him and nothing else.