For Logan (Chicago Syndicate Book 5) (13 page)

I prepare to head out with the intention of returning after I’ve spoken to my father. The hallway is busy again as members return from their assignments, so I discreetly sweep out of Logan’s room and don’t stumble upon any familiar faces as I round the corner.

Luckily, I left just in time, because my father is knocking on my door as I reach my room.

“Rosalia,” he greets and turns to me.

“I was just going to look for you when I heard the men were back. What happened?”

He’s reluctant to answer and says vaguely, “They’re on top of everything. Did you talk to your mother?”

“Yes, she called this afternoon. Um, you didn’t tell her about the shooting?” This is the second time my father has lied to my mother about my involvement in the Syndicate. She has no idea what’s going on – well, regarding my part in it.

“I don’t want her to worry,” he states. “How are you?”

“I’m doing fine,” I reply, surprising myself since I just shot someone and should be a mess. Though I’ve been too preoccupied with a certain blond male to dwell on it.

“Good. I’m going to get some rest. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Okay. Night.”

He kisses my forehead, and I enter my room. With a frown, I glance at the unfamiliar bags on the floor beside the bed just as Mary comes up behind me.

“Oh, I was late finding a room, so I’m staying with you. Is that okay? It’s either you or Henry,” she grumbles, tucking her auburn curls behind her ear.

Although I like Mary, I’m secretly disappointed. I won’t be able to return to Logan tonight. Yet I also know she needs to avoid the allure of Henry. He was very flirty with her upstairs, and I think it bothered her.

“Sure. No problem.”

Seems I won’t be sleeping with my first choice tonight.

***

T
he next day, the shock of shooting someone has lessened immensely. This hanging around with everyone is actually fun, kind of a mini family vacation. In here, we all know we’re safe, so the mood is light. I guess all these wives are used to this lifestyle, and they make Mary and me feel included. I’m also learning a lot during my day at Club 7. Apparently, Mary only found out recently, and by accident, that her brother, Adriano, is the boss of the Chicago Syndicate. She’s new to this side of our family too, and it creates a bond between us. Unfortunately, I can’t visit Cam today, but Adriano’s texted me that everything’s fine at the hospital and that I can see her as soon as lockdown is over.

I also haven’t seen Logan all day. Maybe he joined Luca and my father on the outside? I’m worried about him the entire time I’m waiting, yet there’s enough going on around here to divert my attention.

When night has fallen, two Italian guards, whom I’ve never met before and who used to be bartenders, are teaching Mary and me how to mix cocktails while we’re at the bar, balanced on our stools. They obviously don’t know we’re close relatives of high ranking men, because they’re both flirting with us.

I cross my legs and let the skirt of my cherry red dress fall over my knee. As I’m finishing my second drink, one of the guys asks, “What’s your favorite candy?”

“Cotton candy,” Mary replies, already tipsy. She combs her curls over to one side, and both men gape at her pretty framed face.

“Then you have to try this.” He sets two martini glasses on the bar. Then he dips down and comes up with a silver rectangular candy bag from underneath it. Tearing it open, he takes out pink cotton candy and flings a piece of it in each glass while the second guy is mixing up a drink.

“I need to taste it.” I steal some of the candy from my glass. “This is so good. Pure sugar,” I muse dramatically and pop more into my mouth as they laugh at me when the cottony sugar sticks to my lips.

Clear liquid is poured into each glass and the cotton dissolves, leaving a pink-colored beverage. Excitedly, Mary and I accept our drinks and clink the rims together.

“
Salute
,” she cheers before we try his concoction.

Mary babbles on, holding up her drink in one hand. “I’m getting a sugar orgasm and an alcohol orgasm combined. This is gold, dude.”

The guard beams at her as I take another sip. “It’s definitely addictive.” I can’t help but release a moan, and Mary laughs.

Unexpectedly, the mood changes, as if someone flicked a switch. The two guys straighten, and all of a sudden, Mary and I are being flanked by Henry and Logan.

I place my glass on the bar as Logan casually leans sideways against it, standing close to me and moving his gaze up and down my body. 

I note how nicely they’re dressed. Henry’s in black slacks, a grey vest, and a black and white striped tie, and he mirrors Logan’s stance against the bar next to Mary as she swallows her drink. “What’s addictive?” He watches Mary with a little too much interest and then glares at the guards.

“This drink.” I point to the glass in front of me. “Where did you come from? Henry, you look very handsome.”

“Thank you. We had a black tie event, but it was boring as hell. And I missed Mary.”

Mary rolls her eyes. “I bet it wasn’t me you came back for. It was your brunette. Where is she, by the way?” she sneers.

Henry shows his teeth. “Are you jealous, Mary?”

“You wish,” she retorts and smiles at the guard.

Henry aims a scowl at him, surprising me with his vehemence.

Wait a minute!
Something must have happened between Mary and Henry last night too, but she didn’t tell me anything.

Meanwhile, Logan’s watching me with an impenetrable expression. He’s in a tux, complete with a bow tie, and his dirty blond hair is slicked back, but some strands that won’t stay in place are hanging down over his forehead. He’s basically gorgeous.

“Wade, you look like a Bond villain.” A fine-looking villain.

He gives me a roguish smile. “Thank you.”

“Not a compliment.”

He just smiles wider. But I catch a trace of possessiveness when Logan cuts the guards a seething glance. With a mere glower from him, they scamper away.

On the inside, I’m jumping for joy. I’ve never seen Logan being protective of any woman, and I’ve witnessed him with many of them. All conversation fades away while he studies me as if he hasn’t seen me in days. Memories resurface of him pleasuring me last night, and he tilts his head as if he’s guessed my thoughts.

Logan whispers, “Meet me on the roof, Rosa. I’ll make it worth your time before we get interrupted again.” And with that, he saunters away.

I jump off the stool, mesmerized and obliged to follow him as he commands my emotions, and careen toward the front entrance of Club 7, continually checking around to see if anyone notices me going after him, but everyone’s oblivious. Logan takes the first elevator, and I enter the next one which takes me to the top floor.

The doors swoosh open into an empty restaurant on the roof. At the opposite end, there’s an enormous lighted terrace where Logan’s standing, gazing up at the sky, as I push through the glass doors. A rounded taupe sofa is built low to the ground with a grand fireplace in the middle that has a wooden table constructed around it. There are also several canopy lounge beds placed on either side of the sofa, complete with lounge beds and a glass roof so that you can look up into the air.

The stars alight the dark sky, and the wind is swirling around us, but it isn’t too cold because of the fireplace. As I pass the lounge set on the veranda, Logan turns around. He’s casually untying his bow tie, letting it hang around his neck as he undoes the top buttons of his white dress shirt.

My dress is long-sleeved cotton, but it’s November, so I shiver a little. To my surprise, he closes the distance between us and shrugs out of his suit jacket, draping it over my shoulders.

“This place is beautiful,” I murmur as he returns to the far side of the terrace that has a raised round platform in front of the low bricked edge. “Is this where you take all your conquests?” I can’t help but blurt out.
Damn this bluntness of mine!

He looks back over his shoulder, not taking my bait, before replying, “I’ve never brought anyone up here.”

“Logan”—I clutch my chest, trying to lift the mood—“you’re making me feel special again...careful, careful. How did you get in here after hours?”

“I’m a resourceful man. I can pick any lock,” he answers, intriguing me more. “This restaurant closes at ten p.m. for some reason.”

He grins lazily as I stop beside him. The city lights are twinkling beneath us.

“I like that only you call me
Logan
,” he admits.

“It’ll be our thing,” I mutter as he holds out his hand to guide me onto the round platform.

We’re so high, and I’m practically balanced on the edge, peering down the steep skyscraper.

“Wow.” As the wind blows my hair across my face, it’s exhilarating, so I bend forward slightly, startling Logan.

“Don’t!” He latches on to my hips, moving behind me on the platform. “Somehow I knew that my reckless Rosa would enjoy this.”

I perk a brow. “I’m not
your
Rosa.”

Logan snakes his arms around my waist, allowing me to lean back against him. I keep my face turned to him as he gazes ahead and declares, “Yes, you are.” There’s his arrogance.

Now I do look away from him, just so that he won’t notice my wide smile. Even though I’m on a raised stand, his muscled, broad body makes me feel protected and warm. We’re silent for a while, and it’s undeniably comfortable, which is an ironic realization for a chatterbox like me.

Still, I can’t refrain from prying into Syndicate business. I haven’t forgotten about Mykhail and Adam, who’re hiding in my pool house.

“Did the Syndicate end all members of the Ukrainian mafia, Logan?”

“Pretty much,” he answers straightforwardly, astounding me.

“And Dimitri and Mykhail? Are they dead too?” I ask in a casual manner, faking that I’m mildly interested.

“No. They’re still on the run.”

Logan has been the only person connected with the Syndicate who’s been forthcoming with me so far, so I continue to probe, “If the Syndicate captures Mykhail, will they kill him?”

This question seems to make him apprehensive. He narrows his eyes, yet responds, “Yes. He’s a liability to them. He knows who the high ranking men are and about the drugs being sold in the club. That’s how this world works, cricket.”

“Even if he’s innocent?”

“He isn’t. No one’s innocent once you’re part of the mafia. I’m sure Mykhail has blood on his hands too, Rosa. Just like you now. This is what your family does.”

Fuck
. I can’t confide in the Syndicate then. My father would probably kill Mykhail without my knowledge and lie to me about it. Before Logan becomes even more suspicious, I stop my interrogation and rest my hands on his arms, which are still wrapped around me.

“Why do you hate it when I call you
Rosa
,” he wonders aloud out of nowhere.

“I don’t hate it; it’s just not my name. Like if I called you
Tom
.”

“What kind of comparison is that?
Rosa
is an abbreviation of
Rosalia
.”

“Fine, then it’s like if I called you
Log
, short for
Logan
.”

“Log...I’ll take it.” He smiles. “But it’s still not a better argument, Rosa. Log doesn’t sound that bad.”

I blow out a puff of air through my lips. “It’s impossible to insult you.”

“It’s part of my charm,” he retorts dryly and clutches me tighter.

When I look back over my shoulder, his face is so close to mine that our noses almost touch. His hands weave into my hair as I twirl around on the platform, and he rests his forehead on mine.

“I think it’s time we kiss,” he whispers.

We lock eyes under a starry sky. Then he fists my hair and crushes my mouth against his, pulling me into a long awaited kiss on the rooftop of this magical place on this winter’s night. Our kiss is as untamed as the wind swirling around us while our tongues partner in a stirring dance and all my senses open like floodgates. It’s better than anything I’ve ever experienced before.

This is a man who knows how to give ultimate pleasure, who knows what he wants, who knows what he’s doing. This is the start of something much greater than this kiss implies.

Growling, he entwines our tongues, conquering me, and I match his demanding tempo with the same hunger. It’s a submission and a possession as sparks flicker to life in my lower belly. Breathing heavily, Logan nips my bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and letting go slowly. As he retreats, I chase his kiss, and while he massages my scalp, I moan in delight.

Then my phone chimes from my dress pocket, and he steps back from the platform, giving me space to answer if I wish. He might be an ass at times, but he’s a gentleman-ass, nonetheless.

I’m not interested one bit in answering and don’t move, so he braces his large hands firmly on either side of my waist, lifting me up and giving me a bruising kiss before placing me back on the ground.

“You. Are. Trouble,” he points out and strolls to the sofa, expecting me to join him.

I comply, flinging his suit jacket that I was wearing aside and sitting next to him. But just as he’s about to speak, my phone beeps again.

“Shouldn’t you answer that?”

After I take it out and silence it, it keeps on vibrating, so Logan removes it from my hand.

“No.” I extend my arm, leaning over him as he holds it up out of my reach. It could be one of my friends who has a tendency to send me R-rated stuff.

But I’m too late as he taps the message, and of course, it’s a porn video and a girl whimpers annoyingly loudly.

I shrink back against the cushions as he shows me the phone with a huge grin. “How old is the porn you watch? This is really bad quality,” he teases but doesn’t press stop.

“It’s not that bad. Let me see.” I try to grab the phone again, but he holds up his arm. To get a higher reach, I kneel on the sofa, placing my palm on his warm chest, steadying myself. “You just want me to straddle you.”

In response, a lazy grin crosses his face. My treacherous heart is no match for a flirtatious Logan. In a flash, he tosses the phone aside and grasps my behind with both hands, positioning me astride him as he leans back against the couch.