by Soraya Naomi
I rear back, astounded by his outburst, and defend, “It only happened a few times when I stood up, which is why I’m sure it was just a head rush.”
Luca’s lips thin into a hard line as Marc glances back and forth between us and puts in, “You’re right. It’s a head rush if it has only happened when you’ve stood and it hasn’t occurred repeatedly. I have to go now, Luca.”
Luca scrubs a hand down his clean-shaven jaw. “Fine. You can go,” he dismisses Marc in an unfriendly manner, which is unlike him.
Letting out a burdened breath, I tuck my bangs behind my ear while Luca’s irritated stare is glued on me. But I’m at a loss for words because I need some damn proof to dispel the look of distrust my husband is giving me.
However, before I can say anything, he grits out, “What’s going on in your mind, Fallon? Why are you keeping things from me?”
“I’m not!” I practically stomp my foot, and Luca bristles, grunting in aggravation. “I-I didn’t think it mattered—no, I know it was a head rush and I don’t want you to worry about every little thing.” Because you distance yourself from me the second you can’t manage the situation, I don’t dare to say.
“But if you don’t tell me everything or wait to inform me in front of other people, how can I protect you?” His voice sounds torn beneath a layer of anger before he inhales deeply and orders, “I need you to go. I don’t want Adriano to question you, and I have to do damage control within the Syndicate. Don’t talk to any of the Syndicate men about this, okay? Michael’s waiting at the back entrance to take you home.” He impales me with an icy stare as his banishing words cause my heart to sink to my feet.
He’s becoming overbearing and strict. I’ve been a part of the mafia long enough to know that you’re considered a problem if they can’t control you, and Luca’s desperately trying to control me.
His expression doesn’t change, and my vision pools with tears. Luca sighs, lightly cupping my cheek, which upsets me. Even though he’s touching me, there’s a vast, invisible distance emerging between us. A distance packed with suspicion.
I want to stay with him, yet he urges me, “Go,” and almost pushes me backward without kissing me goodbye.
Turning around, I tread to the door. It’s as if he doesn’t know how to handle me and everything that’s going on, so he sends me away. Whatever happens, I have to make sure that neither Luca nor Adriano begins to see me as a burden.
Someone needs to find out the truth about what happened on Sunday!
Crossing the threshold into the back entrance hall, I grimace and shake my head, cramming down my emotions. Fretfully, I dig into my purse for my phone, but before the door closes behind me, I hear a female voice saying, “Isn’t it a little early, Luca?”
Wheeling around, I press my fingertips against the surface of the door to keep it ajar and witness the bartender lifting and tilting a bottle of Jack Daniels into a glass. To my utter surprise, Luca takes the drink with a smirk and gulps it down, slamming it back so hard that I jump in my spot.
I scan the blonde bartender and don’t recognize her, and as she leans forward on the counter, so does Luca, and then they start talking. Unfortunately, I can’t hear them.
Is he confiding in her? Who is she?
Though what worries me most is that Luca doesn’t make conversation easily – he’s a closed off man, so what’s he discussing with her? A spark of jealousy blazes through my blood, and I’m unable to look away. Especially when he chuckles and his mood seems to improve when he’s not with me.
For three days, I’ve been afraid that he’s mad at me because Noah got hurt and thinks I might be lying, and I just got my confirmation. This makes me wonder if, instead of being his calmness, I’ve now become his trigger – because he’s not mad, he’s livid. And he’s drinking at nine a.m. He’s out of control.
Despondent, I edge backward and let the door quietly fall closed, hearing Luca and the bartender’s laughs trail off. My sorrow is replaced by anger, along with determination.
I can’t let this go on!
Digging into my purse that’s slung across my shoulder, I find my phone and unlock the screen. For the umpteenth time, I click on all the folders, coming up empty again, and I groan.
“Hey, Fallon. Everything okay?” a male voice says from behind me, so I turn on my heel to come face-to-face with Tez.
Twirling my phone in my hand, I consider what to do. I have few options and Tez might be useful. “Do you know much about technology?” I inquire, and his brows knit together. Bringing up my phone, I add, “In particular, smartphones?”
“Yes. Why?” He cocks his head.
“I have a problem. I’m sure I received a message from someone on Sunday morning, but it’s gone.”
“What do you mean it’s gone?”
“I either deleted it or someone else deleted it by hacking my phone or something.”
“Have you told Adriano and Luca? Let me see.” Before I know it, he grabs my mobile and lets his finger go over the screen lightning fast as he mutters, “Yeah, it’s not in your deleted files.” Handing it back, he suggests, “You should have Henry check your phone – if anyone can find if it’s hacked, it’s our hacker.”
“Yes, I know that, but Henry will inform Luca the second I contact him.”
“So?” he retorts, and I make a gesture to dismiss my own comment.
“Never mind. I have to go.” I brush past him toward the back entrance.
When I fist open the door, the stinging rain spits against my cheek. I squint and, right in front of me, I see Michael waiting, seated behind the wheel of his blue coupe. With three strides, I run out and tug open the car door, plopping down onto the passenger seat.
“Good morning. I was summoned,” he says, making the corner of my mouth twitch as I shiver from the cold while I reach for the seatbelt to click it in place.
“Morning.” Assessing him, I frown – he’s the man in black once again, and I notice that his designer suit seems to be of expensive fabric like Luca’s.
“Did Luca tell you a little about me?” He starts the car and flicks the button for the wipers before pulling out of the alleyway.
“No. Luca isn’t telling me anything this week,” I accidentally let out, yet he ignores my remark.
“I’d like to know more about your routine. What do you do daily?”
Shifting my gaze to him, I respond, “I’m sure you’ve already done your homework and know I don’t work anymore. Luca and I have twins, and I stay home with them. I have kickboxing and shooting lessons weekly, and that’s it.” Then I turn my head while gripping my phone in my hand and contemplating if I should go to Henry. He’s my only hope, so I decide to go for it. But first, I need to ditch this guy.
He lets out a sigh in reaction to my hostile attitude and shuts up, thank god.
While he travels through the wet streets, I watch the high-rises go by. The raindrops hitting the top of the vehicle cut through the silence until he speaks, “Why are you so nervous?”
“I’m not nervous. Jesus Christ! Everyone needs to stop jumping to conclusions about me!” I bark, throwing my hands in the air. Quite the contrary, I’m feeling rejected.
“Clearly, you’re in a very calm state of mind,” he teases in a friendly tone, and I can’t help but smile.
Massaging my forehead with my thumb and forefinger, I say, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap at you, but obviously, I’m having some...problems with Luca.”
“There’s no need to apologize.” He casually steers with one hand just like Luca and grins at me. “But we’ll see a lot of each other, so it would be nice if you’d give this a chance.”
“I will,” I reply, recognizing that I can’t vent to other people.
When we reach the Blackhall, he parks the car in his designated spot in the garage beneath the building and leads the way inside.
Shit, is he coming home with me?
At the elevator, he asks, “Are you staying in?”
“Yes,” I lie. “Can we talk later? I just need to wind down a little.”
“Okay.”
We move inside and he steps out on the fifth floor before I ride up to the penthouse. As I walk inside, I see that Julia’s seated around the kitchen island reading, tapping a pen on her book.
I immediately say, “Julia, can you stay another two hours? I’ll pay you double. I just have to run an errand.”
“Sure. The twins are asleep anyway, so I can continue studying.”
“Great. I’ll be back soon.” I return to the elevator before it closes and go back down and out the front entrance to hail a cab.
After giving the address, I remain unsure if I should go through with my plan.
I RAISE MY ARM, BUT before I knock on Henry’s apartment door, which is located in the same skyscraper as Adriano and Cam’s loft, I hesitate and pull back. Nevertheless, Henry’s the only one I know who might be able to help me. I’ll just have to pray that he finds something incriminating on my phone so that Luca won’t be angry that I went to see him.
Inhaling a breath, I tap my knuckles against the surface of the black painted door and wait, but it’s tugged open within a second.
“Hey, Fallon. What are you doing here?” he asks in a direct manner while I see him inconspicuously stashing his gun in the back of his waistband.
“Morning, I need a favor.”
He arcs a brow. “What kind of favor?”
“Before you tell me no, please listen. All I want is for you to check to see if my phone has been hacked. Or if you can find that message I deleted.”
His lips turn down. “Fallon, hasn’t Luca discussed this with you?”
“No, he’s dismissing all my explanations. Henry, I’m sure I got the message on Sunday. What harm can it do?”
He rubs his fingers down his chin before widening the door, inviting me in. “I’ll need your phone,” he says as I pass him, going into the first room where two computers are powered on.
I grab my phone from my jacket pocket and hand it over as he sinks down in his chair. Then he picks up his black-rimmed glasses from the walnut desk to place them on his nose and connects a cable from the computer to my phone, laying it down next to his keyboard.
It’s amazing how fast Henry types and scans the screen, but all I see are a bunch of folders he keeps clicking. “I can retrieve certain deleted data from devices, but there aren’t any erased texts from Sunday.” He pointedly looks at me while this is backfiring against me, and I begin to fidget with my fingers.
“Um...Can you see if a phone’s hacked or being controlled by an outside source?”
“Yes.” Again, he types away furiously, yet his frown that’s deepening concerns me. Then he stops and swivels around to face me. “Your phone isn’t hacked, Fallon. Nothing’s being redirected.”
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure,” he replies as silence stretches on.
I clutch my hair while a million thoughts barrage my brain. How is this possible? Am I confused and imagining things? I can’t have Luca discover that I went to Henry while he ordered me not to investigate.
Since I’m getting frantic, I must play along now so that Henry keeps this a secret. “Maybe I am confused then? I was positive you’d find something.”
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t. Are you okay?”
“I am. I think I need to rest. But, Henry, can you please not tell Luca I came by?”
“Will you follow his orders?”
“Yes.”
“Then I won’t.” He grabs my phone and pulls out the cable before returning the device to me.
“Thanks,” I say and tread out of the room.
Needing to get away from here, I yank open the door and close it quickly behind me. Then I descend the staircase to the first floor where my cab is waiting to take me home.
AFTER PAYING THE DRIVER, I get out of the car and rush forward with the thick raindrops falling down the back of my neck. Hurrying through the entrance of the Blackhall, I swipe the cold moisture from my nose before looking up and then freezing when a furious voice demands, “Where did you go?”
CHAPTER 15
Fallon
“WHERE DID YOU GO?”
I worry my lip as he advances on me, and when he stops, I glance up at his authoritative frame.
“You can either tell me or Luca, who’s waiting upstairs,” he drawls, and my palms become clammy while I rack my brain but come up empty.
No, no, no!
A scowl settles on Michael’s face. “If you go off by yourself, you’ll make my job impossible. Tell me where you were or your problems with Luca will grow – I don’t have to explain that.”
“How did you even know I was gone?”
“You’re not very difficult to read.” He gestures to my head. “Your mind is all over the place.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I don’t, but I went to visit you ten minutes after I dropped you off to hear from your sitter that you were running an errand. And I can recognize erratic behavior. Did you go out investigating on your own?”
“I went to Henry so that he could check my phone.”
“Did he find anything?” he asks, sounding genuinely disappointed.
“No,” I confess, making his eyebrows lift slightly as though he’s surprised by my honest answer.
“What was your next plan?”
“I didn’t have a plan. I had expected Henry to find the message. I’m starting to think that I am confused.”
“Do you understand the Syndicate’s point of view now?”
“Yes,” I reply instantly, feeling like a fool and having no explanation for the reason why I’m certain I read the text.
Michael keeps staring at me as if he’s solving a puzzle before he explains, “Luca’s not upstairs. I lied to get the truth out of you.”
I let out a growl. “That’s mean.” And I hold up my hand. “I’m shaking like crazy.”
“Then don’t ever do this again and we can keep it between us, this once. I’m here to help you – you can confide in me, Fallon,” he assures me in a serious tone.
But I’m not sure he won’t tell Luca. In essence, I don’t know anything about this guy except that he’s cunning and observant.
Suddenly, he peers over my shoulder, and as I hear the entrance whizz open, I turn to see Luca crossing the threshold, his charcoal suit glistening from the raindrops and his dark hair semi-wet as he brushes it back and frowns.
“Did you just get here?” Luca asks me, and then glimpses at Michael.
Uneasily, I wait, afraid that Michael will out me.
“Yeah, we had a coffee around the corner,” Michael responds, and inwardly, I sigh in relief.
Moreover, I’m pleased that Luca came home early. It’s been days since he’s done that. “Are you staying?” I question, and he nods.
This is the first sign that he might stop pulling away from me, and I grasp this chance to be with him.
I take Luca’s hand, and as we pass Michael, he sends me a pointed look, so I mouth, “Thank you.”
He dips his chin, cautiously evaluating me, and I realize that I won’t be able to best this guard.
Luca diverts my thoughts by simply standing beside me, and I lean against him before we move into the elevator to go up to our penthouse in silence.
When the door opens, I turn right toward the kitchen island. “Julia, have they been good?”
“Yes, they’re both still sleeping.” She gets up from the bar stool, collects her books, and stashes them in her backpack.
Then I pay her as she says goodbye to Luca, who flings off his suit jacket to toss it on the couch. After leading Julia to the elevator, I swing around as it closes, and I’m finally alone with my husband.
Luca sinks down on the sofa, and when he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, he drops his head in his hands.
I remove my purse and coat, setting them on the other end of the couch while watching
Luca, whose muscles ripple through his tailored white dress shirt. His raw masculine beauty has enthralled me since I first met him, yet these days, cool rage underlines his posture.
I muster up all my courage and say, “Luca, where are you?”
His grunt reveals a flash of dismay.
So I carry on, “What’s wrong?”
Resting backward, he stares blankly out the window. “Nothing.”
Expelling a loud sigh, I persevere because not knowing why exactly he’s being different is killing me. “Is that why you drink?” I persist. “Because nothing is wrong? I’ve smelled the whiskey on your breath, Luca.”
His gaze shoots to me before his eyes narrow. “Don’t start with me.”
“Then talk to me. Why are you being distant?”
“Because I don’t understand what the hell happened with you Sunday.” His tone is sharp.
“Neither do I, but I don’t shut you out.” I round the coffee table and stride closer but stop three feet away from him when his hard stare pins me to my spot. “I don’t ignore your calls and I’m not being withdrawn.”
“I do everything to protect you and our kids and then you go off on your own and endanger my child!” he roars, pointing angrily at me as he leans forward again.
Baited, I retort, “Where have you been the last three days to protect us? Your children have barely seen you because you’ve pulled away from me.”
“You push me away!” he counters, vibrating with untamed wildness while my heart slams in my chest.
I don’t dare to say I don’t lie about where I was because while I want to know, I need him to tell me about his whereabouts on Monday night himself.
“Are you mad at me?” I finally ask, dreading the answer.
“I’m fuming that my son got hurt!” He hurls the candles and three paperbacks off the coffee table, his façade wavering, and I step back in shock as he surges up.
“I work around the clock to keep you safe, but you’ve managed to create a situation where you’re the cause, Fallon. Aren’t you livid that Noah was hurt?”