The Syndicates: A Dark Mafia Romance Collection

by Raven Scott

  “Shut up.” Shoving her weakly with my shoulder, I smiled broadly, but my burst of relief didn’t last as I cleared my throat. “Um . . . the other thing is he wants me to look through these.”

  Tapping the folder on the coffee table with my toe, I dug into my own ice cream as my sister reached for it. This conversation hadn’t gone too bad, but I didn’t expect it to in the first place. Natasha and I were great sisters, very understanding and level he—

  “What the fuck!” Natasha’s shriek rang in my ears, and I glanced over as she dropped her half-eaten carton in her lap to hold the folder open with both hands. “What the fuck is this, Val? He’s giving you a house? Is this a joke?”

  “It’s the guy who runs the gang of the guy who sent that bomb to me.” Wide eyes met mine, and my sister sat back with a huff as I snatched the folder from her. “Carlyle scared him. Bad. Anyway, that was what he said, that since my apartment got destroyed, I could have one of these— or three— or all of them. I definitely don’t want the one in Chile, though. I skimmed through it briefly.”

  “What the actual shit? That’s . . . wait a minute. How come you’re so damn calm? Not that I thought you’d throw yourself onto a bed and weep like a Disney princess, but . . . ” I hummed softly around my spoon, savoring the crunch of chocolate chips and the grainy cookie dough as I contemplated her question. Reaching for my glass of wine, my mind puttered along leisurely, but my sister didn’t rush me. The silence deepened, and I blinked hard under furrowed brows.

  “I guess, no matter what, I know it’ll never be turned on me.” Pressing the cold glass against my cheek as Natasha flipped the page out of the corner of my eye, I sniffed a harsh breath. “Everything he’s capable of, the lying and the violence, he won’t do that to me. I’m safe. We’re safe. He knows about what happened back then. He asked me if I thought I should continue therapy.”

  “You can lie to that therapist, but you can’t lie to me, Val. You blocked it all out. What if that explosion and being targeted brings it back?” I only shake my head because I didn’t have an answer to that. If it happened and I went a little off the rails, then it happened. There was no way to avoid it, and I wasn’t going to just break up with Carlyle because maybe . . . “Well, I mean, you’re a grown-ass woman. I’m not gonna stop you from doing what you wanna do. I’m just gonna tell you when I think you’re wrong.”

  “You’re a great sister, Natasha.” Nodding firmly, like she already knew that, Natasha huffed, and I smiled broadly as I leaned my head on her shoulder. “I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever it is, I have a feeling we’ll be seeing it on the news.”

  “We have a bigger issue to think about, honestly.” Flipping the page to a beautiful balcony and kitchen, Natasha strafed the pictures with her thumb. “Since you two are fucking, and I’m a collateral casualty, do you think Carlyle will give me an allowance? I wanna be rich and spoiled.”

  A laugh escaped me, and I set my wine glass down to take another bite of my ice cream. The doorbell trilled shrilly, and I unfolded my legs from under me to head down the short hallway.

  “Oh, hey, guys.” Fred and Marshal stood on the other side of the door, with Carlyle behind them, and I nodded as I stepped aside. “Come in.”

  He shot me a surprised, quizzical arch of his brow, but Carlyle didn’t question me as the three shuffled past. Shutting the door behind them, my fingers itched, and I grabbed his ass and squeezed. He tensed, glancing over his shoulder, and my smile widened before I moved to sit on the sofa.

  “So, I was going through all the stuff last night, and thank God we weren’t too far in. All my paper shit is ruined from the sprinklers, but I’m confident I can get all the info on my tablet back.” Speaking up first, Marshal perched on the armrest of the sofa, and Carlyle sat on the ledge between the kitchen and the living room. “Did you guys hear from the manager of your apartment?”

  “Yeah, the fire marshal said there’s no structural damage, but we’re not allowed back. Which . . . I guess . . . at least he’s not suing us.”

  “That’s good. I really don’t want to delay because of this. Like Marshal said, we’re not really taking a hit from this, and I already called my mom’s hospice worker and let her know I’m on an emergency trip.” Fred leveled his gaze on me, and my brows furrowed as his lips thinned. “I’m sorry about all your drawings.”

  “It’s okay. I can always do them over. It’s not like they were set anyway. We’re still going through all our stuff, but I’m sure my drawings and supplies are in there somewhere.” Turning expectantly to Carlyle, I nodded when he did, and he cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. Clasping his hands in his lap, he rocked back, and his narrowed eyes swept the room. He was born to be in power. How sexy . . .

  “As I’ve said, you’re going to be working across the bridge. There are some rules you have to follow. Work stays at work. Like all of my employees, you’re not allowed to bring materials over the bridge. If you do and I find out, you’ll be fired on the spot. Once you decide on a concrete plan for your living situations, you can decide among yourselves whether or not you want to move to another building. You two, specifically, I want to make clear that you’re not prisoners here.” Pointing between Fred and Marshal, Carlyle held both their gazes. “You can leave any time you want, no questions asked. The only thing I demand of you is that anything you witness here, you keep quiet about.”

  “I didn’t see or hear shit,” Fred grumbled in agreement with Marshal, and my lips twitched up at the pleased smile stretching Carlyle’s face.

  “Good. As with any investment, I’m providing you with a marketer who works exclusively with mobile apps. You’ll be meeting with her next week, so get yourselves sorted by then with a loose campaign. It’s all fairly ambiguous at this point. If you need anything for any reason, you can contact my assistant. Her numbers are posted on the refrigerators in your apartments. She’ll make it happen.” Carlyle’s expression fell flat, and the atmosphere became dense as he tapped his heels against the wall just above an outlet. “Now, I’m not in the habit of giving gifts, but considering the circumstances, I believe it’s appropriate. Pedro is responsible for the bomb, and he and I do business together. To some degree, I’m responsible for being negligent. Natasha, this is for you, as well. If you have a reasonable request, I’ll grant it.”

  “What? This wasn’t enough?” Waving around the folder, the fwop-fwop of laminate flooded my ears, and I stuck my spoon in my ice cream as Carlyle shrugged.

  “That’s not yours. Whichever or however many she chooses, they’re Valerie’s.” A shit-eating smirk crested my cheeks, and my sister shot me a mock glare and nudge of her shoulder.

  “You said yesterday that you could buy anyone, right?” Speaking up, Marshal’s question sent a jolt through me, and he cupped his chin thoughtfully. “My wife and I haven’t even been to mediation yet. She just served me a few weeks ago. She thinks I don’t know she’s been cheating on me, and she’s trying to take everything I have. She filed a restraining order against me and put my apartment address as hers, so I can’t even go get my stuff. I’ve been wearing Fred’s clothes.”

  “You want a lawyer.” His wasn’t a question, but Marshal nodded mutely, shame dragging down his features. “Your wife sounds like a cunt.”

  “She wasn’t when we got married. She’s having a mid-life crisis, and her boyfriend is twenty-two. She is a divorce lawyer, and I’m having trouble finding someone to represent me. I don’t want to do anything drastic because I know that she’ll see she’s making a mistake and watching her be miserable when this guy bails because she’s pregnant is revenge enough.” I nearly choked on my melting ice cream, and Marshal sniffed hard as he hung his head a little, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets. “She doesn’t think I know about that, either, but her sister talks a lot.”

  “I’ll handle it. At least you’re not one of those guys who tries to have her murdered.” Nodding gratefully, Marshal deflated a little, his shoulders
curling, and Natasha held up her hand as if we were in grade school again. Carlyle smirked slightly, pointing at her, and embarrassment bubbled in my chest. “Yes, Natasha.”

  “Within the realm of possibility, right? Can I have these ones Valerie doesn’t want? If they’re all up for grabs, there’s no reason not to, right?”

  “Fine. I’ll let Pedro know. I’ll do the initial cleanup, but after that, they’re your responsibility. What are you going to do with them?” My sister's fist pumped the air with a hiss, and she sat up a little straighter.

  “I’m gonna open an Airbnb.” She sounded so proud of her idea, and I sniggered before she swatted at me, a pout forming on her face. For a brief second, everything felt normal— the old normal, when it was just us and no one else. “Hey, it’s a good idea! Do you know how much that would cost a night? And as long as we put in a day between bookings to clean up, we can just hire a crew locally. We’d never have to go there unless we wanted to party.”

  “What about you, Fred?” Marshal’s question drew all attention to Fred leaning against the wall by the television, and he shrugged carelessly.

  “I don’t really want anything. I’m pretty alright for now. This offer has a timer on it, I assume. Maybe I’ll think of something before it runs out, but it’s not like you can stop my mom being eaten by dementia.” I thought maybe Fred just didn’t want anything to backfire on him if he took a freebie, and I frowned under furrowed brows. “Besides, it’s not like I’m not working anymore. I could go back home if I wanted. It’s just more convenient to stay here for the time being until we decide whether or not to do something else.”

  “Alright.” Accepting Fred’s reasoning, Carlyle slid off the ledge to nod firmly. “I’ll have someone show you to your office so you can get to work. I have some things to get to myself. If you need anything, again, refrigerators.”

  35

  Valerie

  Stepping into Carlyle’s office, I glanced around at the plain decor and not-disgustingly-imposing desk he sat behind. For a moment, my gaze focused on the stress lines on his face and the permanent downturn of his mouth, but the fire in his eyes still blazed brightly.

  “Wanna talk about it?” My simple question earned me a hard sigh, and Carlyle rubbed his face with both his palms to run his fingers through his hair. Wandering deeper into his office, I sat down on the sofa pushed up against a wall, and he didn’t hesitate to take a seat next to me. I pulled up my legs, wrapping them around him, and he sprawled across me as I stuffed a pillow under my back and propped my head on the rest.

  Threading my fingers through Carlyle’s hair soothingly, I soaked up his warmth through my shirt, and his jaw worked against my breasts in the stretching silence. He was always so thoughtful, and I was patient while he decided what, exactly, he wanted to complain about.

  Everyone needed an outlet, especially people so burdened.

  “In three hours, Dallas is going to get hit with mass murder. I’m considering calling it off. It’s a lot of exposure if someone fucks up, and any rookie with a gun and a friend with a big mouth could easily do that.” Carlyle’s chest flexed against my abdomen, and he inhaled deeply to sink against me. “I made the decision out of anger, and it could easily be a bad one.”

  “You can’t, I don’t know, tailor it to professionals or something?” Carlyle’s hair was so soft, his weight so comfortable, and I closed my eyes and tightened my knees against his sides. “You don’t have people for this or whatever?”

  “It’s better to be twice removed from this kind of thing, and, to be honest, I could pin it on Pedro easily since I don’t operate in the south. That’s cartel territory, and we have a deal. Pedro’s not very happy right now, though, and I don’t want him to think he’s got balls and try something. I just seized everything he has in this country, and it’s a lot. It’ll take weeks to move it all.” My mind churned slowly, and the silence rang in my ears as I enjoyed our closeness before Carlyle continued. “I could send the offers to specific people, I suppose. There’s just a lot going on right now, so I haven’t really explored all my options.”

  “I think that’d be the best option. It’s not something that’ll happen in a day, Carlyle.” My advice fell flat, but I wasn’t really sure what he was expecting to hear as he grunted lowly in acknowledgment. “What else do you have going on? You can tell me.”

  “That snake— just knowing she’s here gives me a headache. She can’t leave, either, because I need her for something else, but I’m getting really fucking annoyed at how sh—” The office door popped open, but Carlyle didn’t so much as twitch as I cracked open my eyes. A huge pitbull sauntered in, all blue, and waddled over to sniff around me like he owned the place. “Fuck . . . this bitch . . . ”

  Carlyle’s groan muffled between my breasts, and the woman who strolled in clearly hadn’t heard him or didn’t care. Electric blue hair tied in a braid down her back, and she clicked her tongue ring animatedly as she shut the door with a swift kick.

  “I heard from the maids that—” Her brows rose when she finally looked at us, and goosebumps swept up my arms at the discomfort masking her face. “Am I interrupting something?”

  “What do you want, Esmarissa?” Licking her lips, she pulled a snake bite between her teeth, and I turned my gaze to the ceiling. Carlyle’s mumble raked up my sternum before he pushed himself up to sit, and he pet the dog’s head absently. “Did you clean up after this monster like I told you?”

  “Of course, I did, but that’s not why I’m here. I heard from the maids you decided not to go after the Italians. Why are you keeping me here if you’re wiggling your thumb in your ass, huh?” His thighs and abs tensed against my calf, and his head whipped up as the air became frosty.

  “I beg your pardon?” When I breathed, I could’ve sworn I saw it puff in the air, and Carlyle cocked his head menacingly— if such a thing could be menacing, that is. Watching his reactions to disrespect was fascinating, and I held my breath as the silence ticked on by. “Just so we’re clear, here, Spot . . . ”

  Spitting the nickname venomously, Carlyle stood up, and I pulled back my leg as he strode to stand check to chest with her. Which is it? Esmarissa, snake, or Spot?

  “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to whoever I want, whenever I want, for whatever fucking reason I want.” He grabbed her chin, and her breath hitched as the tension in the room sizzled where my eyelids and eyeballs met. “You don’t question me. What I decide is not your business. Got me?”

  “Got it.” Releasing her with a little jerk back, Carlyle sat back down heavily to fling his arm over the sofa and cross his knees. Esmarissa huffed, rubbing her jaw and chin, and he just stared her down until she nodded firmly. “Got it.”

  “Good. I suspended the campaign because that grease monkey Diamon knew something he shouldn’t have. When all the chaos is settled, I have to deal with Oran’s whores, and you need to be there.” Cautious curiosity drenched her long features, but he paused to frown deeply under furrowed brows. “You care about your girls, so you need to know what’s going to happen if you ever fuck up again. Now, get out.”

  She called her dog, who plodded happily after her, and Carlyle flopped his head back to sigh heavily.

  “I can’t get a single moment.” Sitting up, I shuffled to straddle his lap, and Carlyle grumbled low in his chest as his eyes met mine. “It won’t always be so busy and hectic, I promise.”

  “I know.” Kissing him briefly, my lips tingled, and he grappled my ass with both his hands to squeeze tightly. “I like watching you be in such complete control. It’s really sexy.”

  “It’s only sexy until I tell you to do something, and you tell me I’m wrong . . . and then you prove it.” Smirking broadly, I gripped the stiff cushion behind him to grind in his lap, and Carlyle’s brows wiggled suggestively. Ducking my head as he stuck his hands down the back of my jeans, I gasped when he spread my ass cheeks, and his tongue invaded my mouth to tangle with mine.

  And then . . . his
phone rang.

  “Shit, that’s Theo.” Fishing the device out of his pocket, Carlyle shot me an apologetic smile, and I sat back as he answered the call. “Did you get them?”

  “We’re at the airport. Hano is about ten minutes away.” I could hear Theo clearly through the phone, and Carlyle nodded before his subordinate continued. “It wasn’t that hard. They’re real idiots.”

  “Good. Let me know when you land.” Hanging up, Carlyle tapped around on his phone before holding it to his ear again, and he reached to pinch my chin affectionately. “Drop the Network from the agenda. Theo’s on his way back now with the ones I want. Send out invitations instead.”

  Without waiting, Carlyle hung up again and tossed his phone on the sofa, and my breath hitched as he dragged the backs of his fingers down my neck.

  “Wait for it . . . ” Murmuring so softly, he held a finger to my lips, and my brows twitched up before the door burst open. Twisting as surprise parted my lips, my brows furrowed, and the man who interrupted us stopped short before clearing his throat. “Did you find him, Jerry?”

  “Yeah. What do you want to do, boss?”

  “Keep an eye on him. I’m still unsure what I want to do.” The guy nodded, and just as abruptly as he appeared, he left, and I turned back to Carlyle with raised brows. “There’s one more. Hang on.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? What happened to being the boss being insanely boring?” He just smirked at me, and I crossed my arms over my check with a huff. Puffing out my lips, I practically leered at him, but he didn’t seem at all phased before a soft knock on the door interrupted us a third time. “This is stupid.”