The Syndicates: A Dark Mafia Romance Collection

by Raven Scott

  “It’s not so bad. Come in.” Calling over my shoulder, Carlyle propped his arm behind his head, and his smirk morphed into a shit-eating grin. “It’ll be fine.”

  “Whatever.” Rolling my eyes, I turned to find an older man in a really flashy, bright blue tie with yellow smiley faces on it watching us. Patting my ass, Carlyle straightened, and I climbed off him before he stood up and cleared his throat.

  “Dad, this is Valerie.” Gesturing to me as my face paled in mortification, Carlyle’s amusement just dribbled from his mouth, and a squeak of horror clogged my throat. “Valerie, this is my father, George.”

  “Oh, Jesus Christ, Carlyle!” Popping off the couch onto stiff legs, I pulled my hair over my shoulder, and George smiled warmly at me as I held out my hand. “Hi . . . hello. I’m Valerie.”

  He took my hand firmly and covered it with the other one, and I rolled my lips between my teeth as heat threatened to melt my cheeks. George was good looking for a man who must’ve been in his sixties. I could definitely see Carlyle in him.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Valerie. I didn’t mean to intrude, but Carlyle and I have some things to discuss about . . . well, to be blunt, it’s about your situation.” George’s grip on my hand didn’t waver even as he shot a stern look at his son, and I bopped my head in a nod. He patted my hand one more time before releasing me, and awkwardness sizzled just under my skin as I pulled my hand behind my back. “Why are you still here, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Uh . . . uh . . . ” Oh shit, oh fuck, oh crap. “I mean . . . I don’t understand the question.” Stupid! The response was so stupid that I could’ve cried, and George arched a brow quizzically as I struggled to get ahold of myself. “Why am I still here in this building? Or why am I not running really far away, trying to wire brush Carlyle from my brain?”

  “You know he’s not just a simple business owner, so the second question.” Glancing at Carlyle, I knew my nerves showed all over my face, but he didn’t seem at all perturbed as he leaned against the front face of his desk. My gaze locked on George, and I licked my lips heavily before they just spewed out words.

  “I guess he just does it for me.” My eyes widened as acute embarrassment stabbed my chest over and over again. “Okay, I’m going to go. This is awful. I hate you, Carlyle.”

  “I’ll see you later, Valerie.” Scrunching up my nose, I nearly threw up from the anxiety roiling in my gut, and I slammed the office door hard behind me. Sliding down the wall, I held my head in my hands and groaned as my brain spun on its stem.

  36

  Carlyle

  “Natasha, a moment, please.” Quickening my stride to catch up with her, I smiled politely when she turned, and Natasha nodded as confusion knit her slender brows. “It’s not about Valerie, actually. Come outside with me.”

  “Uh . . . okay?” Opening the door for her, I gestured Natasha to follow me towards the elevator, but we took a sharp right to the stairs instead. “If it’s not about Valerie, what’s it about?”

  “What do you know about your father’s death?” She paused on the stairs to turn to me, lips thinning and pupils tightening, and I couldn’t help but frown. I had a feeling she suspected, at the least, that someone along the line had lied to her. She was very perceptive. Slowly turning around to continue down the stairs, she pushed open the side door and took a huge breath before turning to me fully.

  “I don’t know what you’re planning, but you can’t bring him here, Carlyle. Whatever you think you know about it, you’re wrong.” Arching a brow curiously, I pulled my cigarettes out of my jacket, and she stuffed her hands in her jeans to rock back and exhale a blustering sigh. “I found him when Mom went to jail the first time. It’s surprising what a girl can do with an internet connection and Facebook. Anyway, yeah, he was in Witness Protection, but only for a year until the trial was over, and it was determined he wasn’t in danger.”

  “So, he abandoned you.” Mine wasn’t a question, but Natasha nodded, a sour disgust dragging down the corners of her mouth. Sparking my cigarette, surprise tingled my fingertips when she held out a hand, but I didn’t ask about it. “Why did you keep telling Valerie he’s dead?”

  “Because he never came back. Like I said, I only looked this up in my teens, years later. I only did that in the first place because I went on a college tour and saw him alive. He didn’t come back when he had the chance because he met someone else and fell in love while he was in protection. Essentially, he’s lying in two lives instead of just one. His wife is super nice, judging by her Facebook profile. Number one, Valerie doesn’t need to go through more shit, and number two, it’d ruin more lives than I care to be responsible for. To find out all that would ruin his marriage, and, frankly, he’s not all that.” Her little diatribe came to an end, and I nodded firmly as I pulled my cell phone out to text Jerry to leave it be. “So, did you think she’d stop being mad at you if you did a little family reunion?”

  “What? Oh, no, it had nothing to do with that. That’s not the reunion I’m interested in, but I wanted the option once I figured out exactly how much you two knew.” Checking the time, I took a deep drag of my smoke, and Natasha frowned around the butt of hers. “Your mother will be landing in about twenty-five minutes. Finding her was pretty difficult. Also, I have the people who took you when you were thirteen.”

  “Oh.” I expected surprise, abhorrence, something other than just ‘oh,’ and Natasha held her breath for a long moment before exhaling out of her nose. “What are you going to do with them?”

  “That’s up to you. It won’t change what happened to you, of course.” Scanning her, I cocked my head and leaned against the brick to cross my arms. “What about you, Natasha? How are you doing?”

  “I’m pretty okay. It’s only been a day and a half, so . . . and it’s not like any of this has anything to do with me, either. This is your crusade, Carlyle.” Flicking her barely smoked cigarette onto the ground, Natasha snuffed it with her booted heel before shrugging. “When my mom gets here, let me know so I can punch her in the face.”

  “Will do.” Breezing past me, Natasha left me alone to contemplate all that she’d revealed, and I cupped my chin to tap my cheek thoughtfully. Taking a drag of my cigarette, I held the toxic smoke in my lungs before sighing thickly. “I guess that ends that.”

  She was right, of course. This was my crusade on Valerie’s behalf. I took it upon myself to go after these people because I was angry . . . beyond angry. Natasha and Valerie had over a decade and intense help to overcome what happened to them.

  I wasn’t going to stop it, and I wasn’t going to take any less pleasure in it, but . . .

  “Are you gonna keep that all to yourself or share?” Blinking hard, I glanced over as Illya stepped out onto the asphalt, and I held out my smoke for her. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing immediately important. How’s your foot?” She bopped her head side to side with a hum, and the sizzle of tobacco filled my ears. “It’s been a week. Has the swelling died down?”

  “It doesn’t hurt. Theo may be mad at you, but I’ve been through worse. Plus, it was kinda worth it seeing the absolute horror on Mateo’s face.” Mateo— that was a name I hadn’t heard in a while, and my brows furrowed when Illya chuckled lightly. “He’s such a squeamish bitch. It’s a shock you’re related.”

  “Did you come out here for a reason, Illya?” Handing me back my smoke, she ran her hand through her long, brown hair to exhale her lungful as my own filled. Illya was quiet as smoke slowly curled up the flare of her nostrils, and her bright, green eyes watched me steadily.

  “I heard the maids talking about how you didn’t sleep last night. I just wanted to make sure you’re not delirious or anything.” Affection eased the tension in my cheeks, and I nodded firmly as Illya frowned. “You’re not gonna sleep, are you?”

  “No, probably not. They should be arriving in the next hour, and then I have to deal with Valerie’s mother. Sooner rather than later, I want to get to Oran
and his issue before Esmarissa drives me insane.” For just a second, I whined like a teenager about school, and Illya smiled a little even as her expression became grave. “I don’t want whichever slut it is to get spooked, so I told him to bring it up gradually. Chances are, they won’t get here until next week. That’s when I’ll sleep.”

  “He’s having a rough time with it?”

  “They’re his pets. It’s like if someone just decided to tell you he was going to make you kill your own dog for shitting on his lawn. One of the four, he’s had for years. As much as it sucks for Oran, I can’t take chances, so it doesn’t matter if he figured out which one was the spy. These girls are together all the time— literally, they eat, sleep, and breathe the same air constantly. Even if one was the culprit, the others would’ve known and not told Oran, which means he obviously failed to break them as hard as he thought.” I didn’t want to bring this issue up with Valerie, and Illya ducked her head in a nod as I rested my head against the wall to stare at the sky. “He thinks so highly of himself that he let this happen. Chances are, the bitch who the Italians sent is pretty smart about it. Either way, it'll be hard for him, regardless.”

  “Hopefully, he’ll have a little humility after this.”

  “I’m hoping to force him out, actually.” The confession earned me a hum, and Illya scrunched up her face as I watched a huge, fluffy cloud drift above the quad. “My father might’ve tolerated him, but I won’t. I don’t need him or want him around. If this doesn’t break him, it’ll get him close enough.”

  “You can’t just kick him out?” Illya’s bland question drew my gaze, and she shrugged as she sat down against the wall to take off her sandal and rub her foot. “It’d be easier than giving him a reason to hate you.”

  “He did this to himself by allowing this to happen. If he’d hate anyone, it’d be himself. I’m used to fixing my little brothers’ mistakes, but it’s usually Mateo’s.” Speaking of . . . “I’m waiting on this to calm down before I send Mateo to New York City. I had considered sending Oran to oversee him, but I don’t want Oran overtaking the operation.”

  “So, what? You’re just going to do the same thing you tried to do in California?”

  “Yes. This time, though, if Mateo doesn’t pull through and makes another stupid mistake, he won’t get a third chance. I’m going to make it very clear exactly what I expect, and I’ll be sending Vanessa with him to make sure he gets it done. She’s a slave master even though she doesn’t seem it. Llane will be her replacement.” Illya tapped my leg, and I held down my cigarette for her to rub my hands up my face. “I’m not used to doing so much damn work.”

  “Good thing you’re really good at it, otherwise someone might think you’re actually stressing out.” Chuffing a humorless laugh, I only shook my head, and Illya banged her head gently against my thigh. “I’m gonna stay out here and wait for Theo. Go get a blowjob or something.”

  37

  Valerie

  Licking my lips heavily, I knocked on the big, imposing, metal door before it immediately swung open, and Carlyle gazed down at me with guarded eyes. Wordlessly, he gestured me in, and I pursed my lips as anxiety gnawed at my gut. Tension zinged up and down my legs and gripped my spine, and I rubbed my palms together to get rid of the tingles in my hands.

  “What’s going on?” My straightforward question earned me ominous silence, and I stepped through the threshold to see Natasha already here, leaning against the wall with her arms tightly crossed. “This is a bad place to stage an intervention.”

  “It’s the perfect place for an interrogation, though.” A surprised squeak escaped me when George spoke up from behind me, and I whipped around as Carlyle left the door open. The old man smiled almost sympathetically, but his eyes looked a little dead as they shifted between my sister and I. My mind raced, panic clutching my heart in a vice, and I gulped harshly while Carlyle sat on the table in the corner of the room.

  “Okay . . . um . . . if this is about earlier, I can explain. We weren’t gonna do anything, I promise. I was just trying to make Carlyle feel better. Because, you know, it sucks about the b-bomb and my apartment, but, like, I’m totally over it at this point even though he’s obviously not, an—” Drying on my tongue at the amusement playing in the old man’s otherwise stoic features, I clamped my mouth shut and held my breath. Flames climbed up my neck, and my knees wobbled dangerously as embarrassment clung to my ribs like sticky tar.

  “Not your interrogation, darling.” I wanted to die. Oh, this was horrible. Carlyle was horrible. What the Hell was with all the quiet? Did everyone in this place just read minds?

  Was I being intentionally left out of the loop?

  Because I was okay with that! Seriously! I didn’t want anything to do with the loop!

  “Val . . . ” Whirling around, I tensed when Natasha frowned at me, and my cheeks threatened to melt right off my face. Her eyes flickered to a corner of the room, her head tilting, and I almost didn’t look because I was a scaredy bitch.

  But I did look, and goosebumps blanketed my entire body at the frail body huddled in the corner. I hadn’t noticed the small cries coming from under that stringy, brown hair, and impressively thin legs riddled with track marks pulled up. There were even marks on her feet, straining as they curled against the cold concrete, and my pupils blew as the air knocked from my lungs.

  “I-I don’t understand.” The declaration rolled thickly off my tongue, but I couldn’t tear my eyes off the pathetic creature cowering in the corner. “Why . . . why is she here?”

  “I had her brought here. Why and what you do now is up to you.” My head snapped up and to the side, and Carlyle crossed his legs under him to lean against the wall. His expression was unreadable, his voice flat, and even his eyes didn’t portray any sort of emotion too strong to identify. “Natasha decked her in the face. If you need ideas, I have a few.”

  “Um . . . oh, I-I . . . ” Sputtering, my words failed me completely when I turned back to my mother, and she rocked back and forth. Her clothes stuck to her and made her look skinnier. Even bunched up, it was obvious she was underweight. The drugs she used gave her a greenish hue, and she shook viciously. Blinking in disbelief, I wrapped my arms around myself as I shuddered a rasping breath, and my lips stuck together as the moisture on then dried.

  “No one will judge you for anything you feel, Valerie.” I was struck with the notion that these people assumed I would feel something in the first place, which was preposterous. I mean, my mom abandoned us and sold us and lied and cheated and stole and . . .

  Looking at her now, the only emotion swirling in my chest was . . . disgust.

  “I’m not touching that.” Shivering from the powerful wedge between my lungs, I shook my head and scrunched up my nose. “I’m not touching that.”

  “You don’t have to.” Carlyle slid off the table smoothly, and my eyelids fluttered closed when he gripped my shoulders in his strong hands and squeezed reassuringly. “I have tools for that.”

  My stomach roiled when I made the mistake of looking at my mom, and I covered my mouth with the back of my hand. She fucking stunk to high Heaven of ammonia and general body odor, and her shaking just agitated it all. Her thin skin crackled around her track marks when he gripped her legs, and she looked around through glassy, doped up eyes.

  Eyes that swept right past me . . . as if I wasn’t even there.

  Cold metal pressed against my palm, and I sucked in a sharp breath when Carlyle’s warmth left my back. My eyelid twitched as my mom’s gaze focused on Natasha. She was so bad that the punch to the face my sister had supposedly dropped on her didn’t change anything about her features. My mom didn’t swell up. The only difference was her sickly green color turned grey.

  “Nat, baby . . . ” Hoarse, barely a collection of sounds, my mom’s call squeezed my heart and made my brain pound against the backs of my eyes. Tightening my grip on the . . . what even was it? Glancing down, I frowned at the gun in my hand, the silvery piece
glimmering in the moderate light streaming from above. When I looked back after what couldn’t have been more than a second, my mom was still staring dazedly at Natasha.

  Blood drummed in my ears, and a cold sweat broke out on my body when my mom opened and closed her mouth a few times. Watching her actively try to make noise was surreal. I’d never been so close to someone so degraded my drugs, and the fact that this was my own mother only made me more numb.

  “Did you bring Val like I told you?” My body went cold, and I twisted as Natasha clenched her hands into tight fists, rage painting her face and bulging the veins in her neck. “I have to pay rent. You don’t want to be homeless, right? You’re the good one.”

  “You didn’t . . . ” Croaking as my throat closed completely, I shook my head weakly, and my sister glared at the floor. “No, no, no, Nat-t . . . you didn’t . . . ”

  “I’m older, so it was my responsibility.” Tears sprung to my eyes at the lack of bitterness of resentment in her voice, but all I could do was continue shaking my head. “Six minutes really is a big difference.”

  “You . . . how could you, Natasha?” She shrugged stiffly at my whisper, and I tightened my grip on the gun Carlyle had given me. Was I really going to shoot my mom? The question wasn’t one I’d ever contemplated before, but now . . .

  “To be honest, I didn’t hate it. If I did, they’d just go after you. So, I guess, after a while, I managed to just . . . let it go. Besides, I wouldn’t be so hilarious without a little trauma.” Hiccupping a shallow breath as my tears streamed down my hot face, I struggled not to sob as Natasha walked over to me. Slowly, she turned me around, wrapping her arms around me, her palms gliding down to smooth the bumps on my arm. “It won’t change anything, Valerie, but it won’t make it worse, either. There’s not much worse it could get, and we have each other.”