For Logan (Chicago Syndicate Book 5) (3 page)

My cock twitches under my gladiator clothes. Women who don’t know that they’re sexy are the sexiest of all – and very rare. For the first time, I check out Rosa, not just seeing Cam’s sister, but a woman with an hourglass figure, curvaceous in all the right places to tempt a man, the smoothest olive skin, and a dimple in her left cheek – one that’s entirely too alluring. I also wonder how it would feel to thread my fingers through her black hair that flows down her lower back in silky waves. When her gaze moves up, her cat-tipped caramel eyes that are a sudden temptation stare questioningly back at me. Promptly looking away, I push the physical response aside.

But she’s caught me. “Did you get a good look too?”

And there’s the sharp retort I’ve come to expect from her. “Then don’t”—I wave my hand toward her generous bosom—“fondle yourself in front of me.” I’m still a typical, red-blooded guy.

“I didn’t
fondle
myself. I was just adjusting—” She abruptly stops and purses her lips. “Never mind, let’s not discuss my breasts.” She makes a half-circle, perusing the crowd and attempting to locate a familiar face, eager to get away.

Somehow it pleases me to have her flustered. I lean my elbow on the bar counter so that I’m close beside her and say, “I think it’s a great topic. Yours are very—”

Her head whips to me so fast that her hair cascades over one shoulder. “Don’t even finish that.”

Before I can continue to rile her, we’re interrupted by the boss, Adriano, and his underboss, Luca, approaching us. Rosa inches to the side, creating some distance between us.

Luca’s green eyes inspect me suspiciously; I’m not one of his favorite people. My first contact with the Syndicate was through Luca’s wife, Fallon, who’s my friend. He wasn’t pleased when I informed them that I’m a CIA agent, although I’ve been truthful so far since I’m not initiated into this mafia yet and I need Luca to trust me.

“What were you talking about?” Luca asks after witnessing Rosa’s edgy demeanor contrasted with my casual stance.

“I’m glad you asked,” I answer much too eagerly, earning a scowl from Rosa.

“Nothing,” she assures them and tries to move away.

I hook my thumb into the back waistband of her jeans, ceasing her movement, and she clenches her jaw, careful to not look sideways at me so the two men don’t catch that I have her trapped. By chance, they’re called away before questioning our odd behavior.

I tug her back a little and whisper against her cheek, “I won’t forget how you just ruined my game with the nurse.”

She turns her head and bites back a laugh. “Ruined what game? You were just misleading her, trying to avoid saying her name.”

“So you were paying attention to me?” I point out.

Her face falls. “Do you actually believe the shit that comes out of your mouth?”

“I do. More importantly, other women do, so stop challenging me. I won’t always play nice, Countess Dracula.” I skim my thumb up her spine, making her shiver.

“If this is nice, then I don’t even want to know what
not nice
is to you.” She jerks forward, obviously upset that I made her tremble with a simple touch.

Then don’t play games, girl.

“And by the way, not once have you addressed me by my given name,” she scolds, causing me to grin.

“But as you requested, I also don’t call you
baby
. You can’t have it all,
Dracula
.”

She throws me a bland stare as another woman passes me and holds my gaze.

“Don’t tell me that she’s another one of
yours
?” Rosa grumbles.

“My what?” I play ignorant and beam at the other woman.

“You have the attention span of a child,” Rosa continues.

With that, my eyes cut to her.

“I’m honestly starting to wonder how many women here you’ve slept with.” She waves her hands around dramatically.

I snort. Slept with? None. I do not
sleep
with them. Yet her disgusted expression bothers me somewhat.

“You should try monogamy once in a while,” she rebukes me, actually rebukes me.

It has nothing to do with monogamy and everything to do with evading personal attachments. And simply because I enjoy teasing her, I lie, “I don’t believe in monogamy.”

“What?” A deep crease forms on her forehead. “That’s sad. You share your body with just anyone and don’t ever feel anything special?”

“Oh, it’s special.” I let the innuendo linger.

“What is? Spilling your seed?” she throws back.

“God, you’re so direct,” I tell her and stand up straight, astonished again at this woman’s unpredictable conduct.

She presses her shoulder against mine and tilts her head to the side and up to mutter, “Why? Are you uncomfortable when I talk about your seed? You were very willing to talk about my breasts. Maybe now I’d like to discuss your cock.”

“Jesus, fuck.” I rub a hand down my face. We are not having this discussion.

How did we end up talking about my cock?

Just like that, the tables have turned and she glances cynically at my groin. “Maybe that arrogance comes from overcompensating?”

Christ, this woman’s found an unholy delight in tormenting me.
Though her adorable tone is too attractive.

Why the hell have I been standing here talking to Rosa for fifteen minutes?

“That’s my cue to leave,” I comment with a grin.

“Bye,
Logan
,” she whispers, reminding me of the reason why I came to talk to her in the first place.

Well played, Rosa Calderone.
I guess there’s more to Rosa and her recklessness than I initially thought.

But now, I need some relief from dealing with her. When the party’s in full swing, I note suspiciously few guards on the balconied second floor, and then I see a man who isn’t a Syndicate guard holding a gun, scrutinizing the crowd below. This man is a Ukrainian mafia member; I know his face from when I had to rescue Rosa from the Ukrainian sex club several months ago. Ukrainians on Italian territory can’t mean good news, and since I’m one of the men who’s working on this club’s new security system, I realize this could pose a problem for me.

Without delay, I rally up three main guards and everything moves in fast forward from then on. I discover a breach on the second floor, in Adriano’s office. He and Luca have had a confrontation with some Ukrainians, but the enemy is being overpowered without a problem. While the guards are capturing all the Ukrainians inside the club and managing to avoid disrupting the party, I’m in Adriano’s office with Luca, Fallon, James, Cam, and more soldiers.

Adriano settles a hard-edged glare he’s honed to perfection on us. “This is our first major party, and we get breached. This is unacceptable! Looks like I have to beef up the security detail, yet again. I thought I had a faultless system. I did pay a fortune for it, Wade.”

“You do have the best system. That wasn’t at fault here,” I defend resolutely.

Luca calmly leans back against Adriano’s desk, stashing his gun in the back of his pants as Adriano starts to issue orders to those who are Syndicate members, but I stand back since I’m not one.

Club 7’s sex club is more successful than the Ukrainian sex club, and I believe the Ukrainians are trying to eliminate their competition. Yet this mission makes no sense since they came in and were overpowered so easily. The question is, what was their goal?

My phone chimes in with the confirmation message that the entire club is contained.

As I’m about to inform everyone, Luca’s apparently wondering the same thing as I am since he says, “Why would they go on this suicide mission? We’re missing something vital.”

Cam asks, “Where are Rosalia and the guard that was downstairs with us?”

“Rosalia?” James questions. “Isn’t she already gone?”

“No,” Cam replies.

James calls his daughter. “No answer.” And Alessa next. “Is Rosalia with you?” He shakes his head.

I’m on alert instantly for some reason.

“Check the camera feeds to see if she’s anywhere in the building,” Adriano advises James, who goes into the security room.

After several minutes, James comes storming back into the office and snarls, “Rosalia’s missing.”

“Something else is at play here,” I conclude, looking at Adriano and Luca who nod in agreement.

It looks like the war between these two organizations is about to erupt. If that’s the case, then I can be of help as an agent who can provide an arsenal of gadgets and weapons.

This is my chance to make myself indispensable to the Syndicate.

Rosalia

––––––––

I
wake up with a jolt, shivering from the cold that crawls over my bare shoulders since I’m still in my corset. My arms and feet are tied to the wooden chair I’m sitting in, and my head feels heavy as I open my eyes.

When I’m confronted with three blond men holding guns, I shriek. And I recognize Mykhail’s father, Dimitri Medlov, as he sneers at me.

“She does resemble Camilla,” Dimitri states, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “But she’s not the one I wanted!”

So he meant to capture Cam and got me instead?

The last thing I remember is discovering that Ukrainian men had gained access to Club 7 and someone smothering me from behind. Now I’ve woken up in – what appears to be – a bookstore.

“Rosalia Calderone,” Dimitri says as he squats down before me and angles his head to the side, examining me. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“No.”

This is the first time I’ve been involved in Chicago Syndicate business. My mother wouldn’t allow it, so I’ve never really known what the Syndicate does, except sell drugs. I only know that I’m ordered to trust no one, not granted a lot of freedom, and not permitted to talk about my family with outside people.

Dimitri rises slowly. “I don’t like you hanging out with my son and that your family owns Club 7. I want that club, and I want to rule the Chicago area. However, I’m in a lenient mood today; therefore, I haven’t hurt you. But I’m warning you this once to stay away from Mykhail from now on. That boy might be too stupid to know when someone’s using him, but I’m not.”

What the hell is he talking about?
This man’s paranoid. I’m not using Mykhail.

Dimitri’s nostrils flare, and suddenly, he fists my hair and traces the barrel of his weapon down my cheek. “I’d wipe that smug grin off your face if I were you.”

I swallow my fear and attempt to school my expression.

“Get Mykhail,” Medlov commands one of his men, who disappears to another room and returns with Mykhail.

“Oh, my God, Dimitri! What’s going on?” Mykhail barks when he sees me tied up. “Rosalia, are you okay?” He strides toward me, but he’s held back by the guard.

He calls his father Dimitri?

Hurriedly, I nod.

Dimitri turns calmly and, out of nowhere, he backhands Mykhail in the face, hard. “I would appreciate it if you’d obey me when I summon you and not make my guard have to find my own son for me!”

Mykhail ignores his words and loosens his jaw, not shocked at his father’s outburst at all. “What are you doing with her?”

Dimitri grinds his teeth, heatedly pointing his weapon toward me. “Her? Is she all you care about? You’ve been a disgrace to me ever since you were born, but now you’ve really outdone yourself, consorting with my enemy!”

“I haven’t,” Mykhail protests, struggling against the guard.

“Don’t lie!” Dimitri backhands him again.

I wince. I never knew how strict and abusive Mykhail’s home life was.

“You were with her last night. My guard followed you,” Dimitri explains with fury.

“So you took her?” Mykhail shouts disbelievingly. “She has nothing to do with her family’s business. I’ve told you this already.”

“You’re stupid if you truly believe that.” Dimitri’s glare shifts in an instant to the third guard standing to his left. “And I didn’t take her. He did!” He raises his arm with his gun in hand, pulling the trigger twice, shooting his own guard in the chest.

While the others don’t even flinch, I gasp and purse my lips together in utter panic. After twenty-one years of living with a father who’s in the mafia, I witness firsthand how ruthless this world is. How easily they take human lives, and it frightens me to the core.

Dimitri continues talking to Mykhail as if nothing happened, “My man was supposed to bring me Camilla, though this gives me the opportunity to settle this feud I have with you. Will you stay away from Rosalia? If so, I’ll let her go. As you can see”—he scornfully motions his pistol at me—“I haven’t injured her. But I will if you remain obstinate.”

“I promise I’ll stay away from her,” he vows.

“If I ever catch you with her again, I’ll hurt her badly, Mykhail. And it’ll be
your
fault,” he emphasizes with malice.

“Yes, okay,” Mykhail agrees. “Just let her go.” He holds still then looks at the guard, waiting to be released.

The guard glances at Dimitri for a command, and Dimitri orders, “Take Mykhail back upstairs. We’ll leave together after the meet.”

“How do I know you won’t harm her?” Mykhail asks his father.

“You’re just going to have to trust me,” he states, pointing his weapon to the ceiling. “Move him out.”

Forcefully, the guard shoves Mykhail around a bookcase, out of my sight.

I gulp in nervousness and remain stock-still as Dimitri’s phone rings. “Oh, it’s Fallon. During the ten minutes I was able to get inside Club 7, I gave her my card and told her to call me when she finds out. I guess she’s discovered that you’re gone.”

Fallon?
Apparently, Dimitri has gotten her involved too.

He answers, “Fallon,” while holding my gaze and putting it on speakerphone.

“Medlov, I believe you have something of ours?” Fallon declares, sounding anxious.

“Very clever, Fallon,” he replies.

“Where’s Rosalia?”

“She’s safe with me,” Medlov assures her.

“I want to speak to Rosalia,” Fallon insists.

“Say
hi
,” he tells me, thrusting the phone to my mouth.

“Hello...” I attempt to sound normal but fail miserably.