For Luca (Chicago Syndicate Book 2) (6 page)

I wrap the duvet around my body to find comfort in sleep where he’s the lead in my unsettling dreams.

***

I make myself call Teagan back after the third missed call.

“Finally, you call me back!”

“Hi to you too,” I reply sarcastically while lying back down on my bed.

“You’re MIA. What’ve you been up to?”

“Not much.” My restless night and my need to open up to someone lead me to have my first real conversation with Teagan since I’ve been back. “I miss him, and I didn’t tell you that I lost my job.”

“Fallon, you can always talk to me. You’ve been very distant the last couple of weeks, and I’m starting to worry about you. They fired you?”

“No, Charity Events got shut down. My severance package is minimal, and I can only cover all my expenses until November. I need a new job.”

“That gives you a three-month window, not bad. Isn’t that enough time?”

“Do you know how many job openings there are for copywriters?”

“Uhm…no.”

“None!”

“You’ll find one. Need any help updating your résumé?”

“Already did that. I still have to tell my parents; maybe my father can help me.”

“Tell them sooner rather than later.” She pauses and sighs. “Did you talk to Luca?”

I’ve told Teagan he ended our relationship to avoid having to come up with an elaborate lie about why I can’t be with him. “I saw him yesterday.” My tears fall freely the second I talk about my confusing and messed-up feelings toward him. “I didn’t even realize how much I missed him, but our entire encounter was highly dysfunctional.” I let out a snort. “We fucked, and he’s so angry about everything.”

“Why the hell is
he
angry? He dumped
you
!”

I have to be careful what I relay. “I don’t know. He left angry. I’m also angry but not regretful in the least.”

She laughs loudly. “Angry sex is that good, I get you.”

I experience my first genuine smile in days, and I’m saddened that I didn’t confide in my friend sooner. “Guess who I had dinner with yesterday.”

“Out with it.”

“Evan.”

“Evan?” she asks.

“Let it dawn on you…”

“Oh Evan! Hottie Evan from high school?”

“Yes. He moved to The Loop last week.”

“Wait. Where does Luca come in? You also saw him yesterday? Did something happen between Evan and you?”

“I had dinner with Evan—No, you wait. What happened between you and Evan?”

“We had sex, once,” she answers.

“I knew it! Well, nothing happened between us, but he did try to kiss me at the end of the night. Luca saw and came to my apartment.”

“Luca was jealous?”

“Ridiculously jealous,” I reply.

“What does he want?”

For me to accept him. “I don’t know.”

“What do
you
want?”

To be with him the way it was before I found out that he was the underboss of the Chicago Syndicate. “Don’t know that either.”

“You should find out what
you
want or else he’ll drag you into an endless cycle, babe.”

“I know.” I turn my gaze to the window. What I want doesn’t matter because that’s impossible. He’s enraged and hostile. So am I, but my heart is still affected by him. Even his livid touch excited me.

“Hey, sorry to leave you hanging, but I have to go to dinner. I’m going to call you later when I get back, okay? Don’t ignore my call.” She laughs, and she’s gone.

I’m still staring outside when a lone tear trickles onto my pillow. Dashing it away, I stand up because today I’m going grocery shopping and not lying around in bed. He was horrible, but I’m not moping around the house brooding about it.

After a hurried shower, I head out to the ATM around the corner before getting my groceries. As I’m rubbing my upper arms, I realize I should’ve worn pants or at least a jacket instead of my long-sleeve, red cotton dress. I’m standing in line behind an extremely slow old woman, and the thunder above my head announces a storm is coming, drowning out the street noise for a few seconds. The uncontrolled wind is rustling energetically through the streets and high rises. Fall, usually the calm season, is starting with an unexpected storm.

I step forward and return the old lady’s sincere smile as I take my wallet out of my purse. A few droplets of water are already falling from the sky while I enter my code and check the amount of money I have in my account. I arch a brow at the numbers on the display that can’t possibly be correct. That’s way too much to be from my severance package. First, it wouldn’t be deposited this quickly, and second, it wasn’t fifty-thousand dollars.
Fifty-thousand dollars
have been added to my account. The man behind me sighs impatiently, so I withdraw some cash and hurriedly end the transaction. I decide to skip the grocery store and return to my apartment to try to find out what’s going on.

I immediately turn on my laptop on the kitchen table, drag the chair out to sit down, and log in to my bank’s website. Scrolling down the screen, I stop at my back statements and click on ‘August’. There’s been one deposit of fifty-thousand dollars by an unrecognizable bank account; it’s not an American account number. I Google the name and end up clicking on a high-end beauty and lifestyle website. I frown as Luca wanders into my mind. Is he paying me off? For what? What kind of games is he playing? I receive money from some unknown source, but it all seems perfectly legal; isn’t this the Syndicate’s signature?

Completely offended that Luca feels the need to pay me, I get the cash out of my wallet and snatch my keys off the table before I bolt down the stairs into the now pouring rain and hail the first cab that drives by with a wave of my hand.

“The Blackhall,” I tell the driver, and we move through the wet streets of Chicago.

Almost twenty minutes in this silent cab has only managed to worsen my annoyance. A car is blocking the front entrance of Luca’s building, so I quickly pay the driver and run down the sidewalk and inside the building with my head bent down, feeling the thick rain dripping into my hair.

Before I even reach the reception desk, I announce, “I’m here for DeMiliano. Tell him Fallon’s here to see him.” I run my hand through my semi-wet hair.

“Good morning, miss,” he greets too happily and picks up his phone. A fake smile tugs at his lips while he waits for Luca to answer.

I impatiently drum my fingers on his desk until he looks at them pointedly, so I stop.

“He’s not picking up. Can I take a message?”

“Is he home?” I retort.

“Miss, I can’t answer that.”

I want to punch that false smile off his face. “Can you try again, please?” I’m not leaving until I talk to him today.

He picks up the phone with obvious displeasure, and we wait again. He shakes his head at first, but then his eyes widen. “Mr. DeMiliano, Fallon is downstairs to see you.”

I can’t overhear what Luca is telling him.

“Miss, could you maybe call him for an appointment?”

“What?!” I throw my hands up in the air. “Luca, I’m not leaving. We need to talk!” I scream for him to overhear while the receptionist looks amazed at my sudden outburst.

“Yes, sir.” He hangs up and points to the elevators. “Penthouse floor.”

In the rising elevator, I take a steadying breath, preparing myself to confront him.

Be strong.

The door opens, and I step into the living room, mesmerized by the furious clouds passing by his floor-to-ceiling windows, but I don’t hear a sound. We’re in the middle of the storm that surrounds his penthouse in the daylight darkness of the clouds.

“What do you want?”

I swivel around to see Luca leaning against his kitchen island with his ankles crossed and rotating a glass in his hand. He’s shirtless in his sweatpants which hang low on his hips, showing his toned torso, and his hair is wildly tousled.

“Did you give me fifty-thousand dollars?” I question, not hiding my discontent.

He tilts his head. “You might be a little more grateful.” His tone is off, disconnected.

“For what? For making me feel like a whore? Is that compensation for fucking me and being an ass last night?”

“Are you worth that much?” he snidely remarks and snorts.

Ignoring his comment, I take a few hesitant steps toward him. The hard lines of his profile stop me dead in my tracks. He doesn’t move; just stares blankly at me while he sips his drink.

Is he drinking liquor this early?

“Does it make you feel better to put me down?”

Luca sets his drink down calmly, and within two strides, he’s crowding me. “No. What do you want?”

His breath reeks of alcohol. “Are you drunk this early? It’s not even eleven a.m.” His arm comes around my waist and slides down, but I stop his movement by holding his arm. “You
are
drunk. Luca, what are you doing to yourself? Automatically the back of my hand caresses his cheek before I freeze and try to loosen his hold, but the lost gleam in his eyes softens me. “Oh Luca—”

His entire face hardens even more. “Don’t. I don’t want your pity.”

“And I don’t want your money.”

“You’ll need it,” he counters. “Anything you need to tell me, Fallon?”

Does he know about the investigation? “No.”

Luca inhales a deep breath and switches from hot to cold so rapidly that I can barely keep up. “Then get naked or get out.” His hand finds its way under my dress and into my panties in one quick move as he licks my collar bone.

“Listen—” I palm his face in both hands to get him off me.

“No,
you
listen.” He cups my wet heat from behind, moving his fingers back and forth, making it impossible for me to stifle a soft moan. “I wanted to talk two weeks ago. You only focus on the fact that I’m the underboss. I’ve tried talking to you, but you’d rather wallow in self-pity. You forget that I did everything,
everything
, for you. You shattered me, and I’m a fucking mess at work. Do you even realize how dangerous that is in my world? No!
You
shut me out and cut me out of your life without looking back!”

“Not without—”

“Let me finish.” He grits his teeth and in a low voice, he adds, “I’m done with you. Loving you is gutting me.”

I shove to remove myself from his embrace, but he’s too strong. The dark circles around his eyes express his pain, so I share my feelings honestly, hoping to provide him some sense of peace. I know how painful it is to be stuck in heartbreak because I’m there myself right now. “My love for you hasn’t mysteriously evaporated into nothingness. It's still there. It's deep, but it's tainted now, buried under a layer of mistrust and lies.”

His nostrils flare, and he pulls back abruptly. “Get out!”

What just happened?

Confused, I probe, “Luca?”

“Get out or I’ll fuck you on the floor here too.”

“You’re a freaking mean drunk. Stop drinking!” I brush past him and press repeatedly on the elevator button. Thankfully, it opens instantly.

“I know, and don’t you dare lecture me,” he mutters from behind me.

I step into the elevator and turn around just as he does, and we lock eyes.

“I’m refunding your money.” My heart splinters into tiny pieces as the doors close.

CHAPTER 9

Luca

“I dream of you and me in a world where we’re together forever. But then I wake up, and I realize we’ll never be together forever.”

“Why?” she asks, whisper soft.

Her innocent eyes smile as I push into her with my elbows on the bed, making sure I don’t crush her body with all my weight, my fingers wrapped in her soft, satin hair. “Because you’ll be in heaven, and I’ll be in hell.”

She digs her nails deeply into my back, causing me to grimace. “That’s true.”

Her devious grin shocks me, and blood tears leak sideways down her face, tracing a path toward her temple as her eyes slowly close.

“What’s wrong, dolcezza?” I keep thrusting into her as if nothing out of the ordinary is taking place while her spirit and breath fade away.

Buzz. Buzz.

My leg jerks because of a cold rush of air. Turning on my side, I realize I’m freezing and slowly open my eyes.

Buzz. Buzz.

I throw my arm over my face when the sunshine blinds me, and every muscle screams in pain. The patio lounger I fell asleep on creaks beneath my shifting weight.

The phone is vibrating on the edge of the table beside the lounger, next to my new best friend, Jack Daniels. I seize it from the table before it falls off the edge and hold it to my ear. “What!”

“Good morning, sunshine.”

I wince as Adriano’s loud voice echoes through my eardrums.