by Soraya Naomi
After I clasp my silver watch around my wrist and go downstairs, my phone rings, so I fish it out of my pocket and answer, “Corrado?”
“Where is everyone?! The fire exit at Palermo is wide open, but no one’s here.”
“What?! Are you sure? Brielle, Gianni, and the sous-chef are supposed to be there.”
“I came to guard Brielle because I saw that she was going to be at work early, but she’s not here and neither are the other two. Fuck! Michael, the lock has been shot – something happened.”
“Is Brielle’s purse in the kitchen?” I demand, searching for my keys on the couch.
“No.”
“Stay there and call Adriano or Luca. They’ll instruct you further.”
“Okay,” he replies.
I hang up to tap on Brielle’s name before bringing my phone back up to my ear, but it goes to voicemail. “Goddammit, Brielle, I told you to always answer!”
I contact Henry next.
“Michael?” He picks up instantly.
“There was a break-in at Palermo. Corrado is there and notifying Adriano and Luca; however, Brielle was supposed to be at work and she isn’t. Track her phone for me.” My tone is steady, hiding my rampant emotions.
“I’m on it. I’m behind my laptop at home. Give me a few...” He types away furiously for endless seconds before saying, “She seems to be going to the outskirts of the Loop. Are you sure she was supposed to be working? I think she’s driving.”
“I’m sure she’s supposed to be at Palermo. Something’s wrong. Send me the link where I can follow her,” I convey urgency without giving details.
“To go after her, you mean?”
“Yes!” I stride out of the apartment and heatedly push the elevator button.
“Um...why are you concerned about the whereabouts of our pastry chef?”
As the doors open and I get on, I reveal, “She’s my girl. Not just our pastry chef.”
“I’m sending the link now. Is she in trouble with Ivo?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I saw him glaring at you two last week when he dropped by Palermo.”
Fuck! If Ivo already knew about us, I’m sure he has something to do with her strange location. “Could be. I think Ivo might be the spy, and Brielle just got caught in the crossfire!”
“Christ! Then hurry and follow her.”
“I am.” I end the call and rush into the parking garage where I jump into my BMW and drive out with screeching tires.
Rage and concern fight for supremacy, making me feel as if I’m teetering on the edge of madness and stuck in a nightmare I refuse to relive.
Have I failed to protect Brielle as well?
CHAPTER 45
Brielle
IVO’S EYES ARE MANIC as he stands across from me in his wrinkled silver-grey suit and aims his gun at me.
My hands fly up in surrender and I back up.
“Don’t fucking move,” he orders and I freeze, my white sneakers squeaking on the floor.
He stops right in front of me. “What kind of fucking game are you playing?”
“W-what do you mean?”
“You’ve been ignoring me and I saw you kiss Michael on Tuesday, and then I find out that I’m being followed.”
My confusion grows. “Ivo, please put down the gun so that we can talk calmly.”
“No! The Syndicate is following me! Michael has had it in for me from the beginning. You and he are trying to set me up, aren’t you?!”
“No! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
He signals with his weapon toward the exit, silently ordering me to walk.
“No, I’m not going with you.” I inch backward.
But Ivo dives at me and grabs a fistful of my hair, causing me to scream. “You have no idea who you’re messing with, girly. And you’re my only insurance now, so move!”
He shoves me forward and I stagger when I try to fend off his grip. Letting go of my hair, Ivo pokes my back with the tip of his pistol, and after I cross the threshold, I see his sedan parked in the alley. I can’t go anywhere with him. He’s irate and dangerous, like Michael said. In a panic, I gaze around, praying that someone comes to my rescue.
“Get in or I swear I’ll just shoot you here,” Ivo threatens and yanks open the car door.
Since I have a baby to protect, I leap inside and he gets in the driver’s seat, slamming the transmission into drive and racing out of the alley. I break out in a sweat, terrified, then at that second, I remember that I have Michael’s Smith & Wesson tucked in my purse that’s hanging diagonally over my shoulder.
However, I’m distracted when Ivo hits the gas and speeds through a red light. I shriek and jerk my seat belt out, desperately trying to click it until Ivo smacks my hand away, making the belt retract with a whoosh. The vehicle then swerves over the road, and I clutch the door handle in a frantic attempt to keep myself seated.
“What do you want, Ivo?!”
“I want to fucking know what you’re planning. My life is on the line here!” he sneers, holding his revolver in one hand and gripping the steering wheel with the other as he zigzags through traffic.
When he gets on the highway, the morning sunlight blinds us, yet he doesn’t brake.
“Slow down!” I plead. “You’re going to get us killed!” I hold my breath as cars honk when Ivo blazes past them much too closely.
“No! I need someone to insure my safety and you’re it.”
My astounded stare lands on him, and then my phone rings. Ivo unexpectedly reaches over and seizes my purse, pulling me sideways with it. He flips back the flap, and as the sedan veers across lanes and other drivers blare their horns, he hurls my phone onto the back seat. I snatch my purse back, though I don’t think he felt my gun.
I glance ahead, and as Ivo speeds forward recklessly, I see a truck changing lanes and we’re going to crash into it.
“Are you crazy?! Hit the brake! Stop!” I yell, grabbing the door handle and bracing for a collision as our car flies down the highway straight toward the other vehicle.
CHAPTER 46
Michael
“HENRY, TALK TO ME. I can’t check my cell and drive this fast,” I tell him, my phone attached to the car kit, as I step on the gas while pulling onto the freeway.
“I’m tracking both of you,” he says. “Hurry.”
“I am!” I retort, but traffic brakes ahead of me, so I’m forced to slow down.
In the distance, I see a truck sitting in the right lane as if it hit the guardrail, and when I move my eyes down the line of vehicles, I notice an SUV and sedan in front of it with two men who’ve apparently hit each other arguing on the side of the road. I pass the scene of the accident, and when everyone speeds up, I skate by them and turn off the highway.
“There’s a stoplight. Which way do I go?”
“Take a left,” Henry answers, so I circle my steering wheel to the left and pull onto a wide, deserted street flanked by rows of trees.
“Where’s she going?” I ask.
“Still the outskirts, but it looks like an area where there’s only the river and a forest.”
“It’s just a long, straight road.”
“She’s a little ahead of you. You have to turn right in one mile.”
I continue forward and brake abruptly when I see a side road. “Do I have to turn here? It’s a dirt road.”
“Yes, turn there and drive on to the end of it,” Henry instructs. “That’s where she stopped. It looks like a wooded area, but I don’t know for sure.”
I step on the gas, branches drumming against my window as I’m forced to go over the extremely bumpy path much more slowly than I want to.
When I reach the end, I find a stretch of grass that has a widespread forest all around the perimeter.
“There are no other cars here. It’s deserted!” Since it’s broad daylight, I can clearly survey the open expanse.
Christ! What if Ivo’s with her somehow? My instinct tel
ls me that this unusual turn of events must be his doing. Because if he discovered that he’s being followed, he knows we don’t trust him at the moment. And he’ll harm her since he can’t touch me. He’ll hurt her because of me.
Throwing open my door, I jump out of the car and peruse the outer boundary of the forest. The density of the trees shrouds the parts where the sun doesn’t reach, and I hear absolutely nothing other than the wind gusting by my ears.
I duck into my BMW and grind out, “She’s not here, Henry!”
“She has to be. You and she are pinpointed at almost the exact same spot. There might be a deviation of a few hundred feet, but she’s in your proximity.”
“I’m fucking telling you that she isn’t!” I bark, plowing both hands through my hair and searching the edge of the woods for a second time.
Dread almost paralyzes me, but my fury keeps me focused. Then, suddenly, I catch a shadow of movement in the trees.
CHAPTER 47
Brielle
“ARE YOU CRAZY?! HIT the brake! Stop!” I yell, grabbing the door handle and bracing for a collision as our car flies down the highway straight toward the other vehicle.
Fortunately, however, the truck driver sees us coming and swerves to the side, screeching along the railing with a deafening sound and crashing into an SUV before coming to a halt. Ivo races forward, so I’m slammed back against my seat. Then he takes the next exit onto a road with hardly any cars, making my nerves spike.
Especially when, out of the blue, Ivo smashes his gun against the steering wheel, evidently livid, and starts rambling to himself, “Why is the Syndicate following me? I overheard Michael saying that he’s looking for the spy – do they think I might be a spy?”
Confused, I keep gripping the door handle because he’s going over a hundred miles per hour as I retort, “What’s the Syndicate?”
“Stop playing dumb. You must know more than you pretend to! You’re part of the organization, aren’t you?”
“The organization...?” I repeat, baffled, not understanding what’s happening whatsoever.
Does he mean the Palermo team? Then as I stare at him in utter panic, the pieces of the puzzle start falling together.
The Syndicate.
The organization.
Michael confirmed that Ivo handles money creatively.
Ivo carries a gun.
Michael carries a gun.
There’s a strange hierarchy between Michael, Adriano, and Luca.
Michael keeps saying that it’s dangerous for us to be together, and it’s not because he’s tormented, like he told me this week. It’s because he most likely is involved in all of this too.
The organization...the spy?
Is Palermo a crime organization?
“Oh my god, that’s why all of you carry guns,” I mutter, the truth crashing into me.
Moreover, who else is a part of this organization? Fallon and Marliya have guns too – do they know?
Abruptly, Ivo turns onto a bumpy dirt road and I’m jostled in my seat until we reach the end where Ivo drives through a deserted grassy area that meets a large forest that’s thick with tall, blossoming trees. He parks behind a thicket, encasing us in the shadows, and sweat trickles down my spine as he angrily swipes his hand over his upper lip.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, meeting his spiteful glare so that he looks right into my eyes.
Dragging in a long, shaky breath, I slowly push down the handle, and the second he glances away in rage, I fling open the door to escape the car and I start running.
“Fucking bitch!” he yells.
I go deeper into the woods as fast as I can over uneven ground, and thank goodness, I’m wearing my sneakers. Looking back, I see Ivo leap out of his sedan, so I sprint to some trees and dive around them into the dimness where the sunlight’s blocked by the abundance of greenery above me. Then I trip over some fallen branches, toppling forward and catching myself with my palms before I jump over some dead stumps.
“Brielle! There’s nowhere to go and no one here to help you!” Ivo shouts as I crouch behind a wide trunk, my breath labored. “Brielle! Brielle!”
At that point, it suddenly becomes quiet with only the wind rustling about ominously, so I peek around the trunk but don’t see Ivo anywhere. Freaked out, I scan the wooded area before dashing ahead. Although I get bogged down in some muddy areas, I determinedly carry on, and as I run, I fumble around in my purse to grab the heavy revolver and hold it firmly in my grasp.
When, out of the blue, Ivo leaps from behind a trunk and into my path, I immediately stop and point my gun at him at the same time that he points his at me.
Cocking his head, he comments, “And you’re not part of the Syndicate? Why does a simple pastry chef have a gun then?”
“That’s none of your business,” I reply, feeling stronger with my own weapon but scared shitless, nonetheless.
With all my strength, I try to control my trembling arm and keep a steady aim on Ivo’s agitated face. Unfortunately, he’s securely targeting me as well.
“What the hell do you want from me?! You just kidnapped me!” I cry, the fear that’s coursing through my veins pouring out as I look down the barrel of a pistol.
“You put yourself in this situation by interfering. I didn’t understand why you were dating me, anyway, but I think you were ordered by Michael, weren’t you? He’s going to expose me as some kind of spy and then try to get rid of me, isn’t he?! But I’m not the man he’s looking for! He’s so fucking arrogant and thinks he can play boss in Chicago and probably just kill anyone he dislikes!” His scowl deepens as the wind kicks up, rustling the leaves louder.
“Oh my god, you’re crazy paranoid! What are you talking about?!” I yell, making him frown.
“You’re either a good actress or really dumb if you didn’t know about the Syndicate.”
Apparently, I’m really dumb, yet my anger spurs me on, and his insult has me retorting, “Well, then you’re just as dumb as I am because you don’t even know yourself what’s going on—”
Without warning, he lunges at me, and I’m so stunned that we tumble backward and a thud rings out as I hit the ground, the breath knocked from my lungs as Ivo collapses on top of me.
A sharp pain spreads across my abdomen, and I can’t concentrate when the back of my head begins to throb.
Still, as I gasp for air, there’s one question going through my mind: Am I shot?
CHAPTER 48
Michael
I CROSS THE STRETCH of grass and rush into the trees to where I saw shadows of movements in the distance. As I happen to glance to my left while I snatch my Smith & Wesson from my waistband, I also notice a sedan parked there.
“...just kill anyone he dislikes!” I hear a barely audible voice say and turn back to my right to clearly see two people holding each other at gunpoint about a hundred feet away.
“Oh my god, you’re crazy paranoid!” Brielle shouts, and relief flits through my body at the sight of her.
But when I see the other person diving onto her, I sprint forward and hear a muffled bullet.
“No!!!” I shout, racing over the ground, a potent cocktail of rage and fear filling me.
After I quickly close the distance, I fall to my knees and I hurl Ivo off Brielle, who groans.
“Brielle! Are you okay?!” I demand when I notice the crimson streaks on her yellowish shirt.
She appears to be out of it. “I-I don’t know.”
As she tries to sit up, I take her into my arms and swipe my hand across her stomach, finding that her shirt isn’t torn, although her palms are dirty and her clothes stained with mud. Then I see the angry red lines forming on Ivo’s ribcage, and when he doesn’t move or breathe, I realize that he’s the one who took a bullet. Clenching my jaw, I comb Brielle’s hair back and cup her face while tears wet her cheeks and she tries to focus.
“What happened? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I think so; h
e fell on top of me.” She coughs, and then the reality of what’s happened sets in.
She rises and staggers on her feet with my gun in her hand, gaping at Ivo, who’s lying there motionless with his revolver next to him.
She clutches her hair in desperation. “Oh my god. He’s dead. I’m going to jail. Oh, shit! No, no, no! He came at me! I had to defend myself!” She looks at me with pure fear.
Inching forward, I cradle her face and her arms drop. “It was self-defense, so stop panicking. I need you to calm down and take a deep breath.”
She attempts to get a glimpse of the corpse, but I secure my grip and keep her teary green eyes on me.
“Brielle, breathe!” I order, and she inhales deeply. “Now listen to me carefully. You can’t ask me questions until I’m done. I’m going to take care of this for you, although we don’t have much time,” I explain, knowing that she’ll learn the truth once she sees how I operate. But Henry and Corrado are aware that something happened with Brielle, so I need to collect my thoughts on how to fix this predicament while shielding Brielle in the process.
Unexpectedly, she flings off my hands and edges backward, doubt shrouding her expression. “What’s the Syndicate?” she asks out of nowhere.
I realize that Ivo must have ratted us out. “I’m the Syndicate. What did Ivo tell you?”
She glances around and then palms her forehead, grimacing as she tries to process everything before saying, “He said that it’s an organization. He overheard you were looking for a spy and that the Syndicate is following him. And he believed that you were setting him up, even though he isn’t the spy. He thought he needed leverage to save his life.”
Finally, I understand why Ivo cracked – he figured out I was onto him, because of course, he would deny that he was doing anything wrong. “He’s right. The Syndicate is searching for a spy and I think that it was Ivo. I told you he was dangerous.”