Adriano & Cam Read online

  Adriano & Cam

  Chicago Syndicate series Volume 3 & 4

  Soraya Naomi

  Published by Soraya Naomi, 2016.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  ADRIANO & CAM

  First edition. May 29, 2016.

  Copyright © 2016 Soraya Naomi.

  Written by Soraya Naomi.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  For Adriano (Chicago Syndicate, #3)

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  ABOUT THE NOVEL

  For Cam (Chicago Syndicate, #4)

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52

  CHAPTER 53

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ABOUT THE NOVEL

  Sign up for Soraya Naomi's Mailing List

  For Adriano (Chicago Syndicate, #3)

  “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” ~ Jean de La Fontaine.

  CHAPTER 1

  Adriano

  I stare out of the small window of the plane into the clouds as we fly above them, leaving the warmth of Italy to head back to Chicago. Only a few other passengers occupy seats in first class, so it’s quiet.

  “Anything to drink, sir?” the flight attendant asks with a radiant smile.

  I look at her, shaking my head. “No, thank you, but I’d like some more peanuts.”

  “I’ll be right back.” She moves away and actually returns within seconds, handing me the bag. “Sir.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart.” I wink at her, and she blushes innocently.

  She’s pretty, not a remarkable beauty, but she has full Angelina Jolie kissable lips, and I have a magnificent view of them.

  “Please let me know if there’s anything else you need, sir.” She locks eyes with me, the corner of her lip curving up.

  She’s not innocent at all, so I contemplate whether or not to play with her to get my mind off things. I need to shed this unidentified emotion I’ve been experiencing since leaving Luca and Fallon’s wedding. The wedding was a joyous occasion, and while I’m happy for my friend, witnessing their ceremony and their closeness made me wonder how it would feel to have that. A sense of melancholy strikes me when I realize that, in some way, I can relate to how they feel. I’ve never told anyone – not even my best friend, Luca – the heartache of Cam’s and my relationship, but lately, this sense that something’s missing has been coming over me more often.

  Maybe I’m in an early midlife crisis; turning thirty and all next month. Perhaps I just need a distraction.

  I eye the flight attendant slowly from head to toe. Sadly, nowadays, no one’s a pleasant diversion anymore. Yet, I still check her nametag: Cindy.

  Oh god, what an awful name.

  I’m not sure I hide my grimace when I read it.

  I pop a peanut into my mouth and don’t respond, but then she bends down toward me and whispers seductively, “Anything...”

  Don’t you know men love the chase, Cindy?

  Although she’s making this too easy, and I do want to eliminate this nagging feeling seething beneath the surface, I’m unable to take her up on the offer. She’s not enticing enough to fuck. She’s simply not her.

  Cindy places her hand on my thigh, close to my crotch, and I’m now becoming exasperated at her forwardness, so I say firmly, “I don’t need anything else, Cindy. Go.”

  She hurries away with an offended expression, but I can’t be a bothered a bit about her. There’s only one woman residing in my thoughts these days.

  After finishing the peanuts, I’m back to staring out the window with that exact same bleak feeling I’ve tried to dispel. But my problem is that the person I try not to think about is actually my next assignment. My number one priority as soon as I’m back in the States is finding Camilla Guillermo, my Cam, who I only just recently found out happens to be the daughter of my boss, my Capo crimine, James.

  I’m part of the Chicago Syndicate, which rules the drug traffic in Chicago – and the rest of Illinois. We’re the mafia, the Syndicate – as we call it. Our organization consists of four high ranks and many Capi/captains, soldiers and associates who do the street work. Captains and soldiers are our official members. Associates are people who work for us – politicians, journalists, cops, lawyers, entrepreneurs – but aren’t true members of the Syndicate.

  The four high ranking men are: one – Capo crimine/boss, James; two – underboss, Luca; three – head Capo/captain, me; and four – Consigliere/lawyer, Salvatore. We also have other Capi who work below me and directly instruct most of the soldiers.

  Every ounce of drugs sold in and around the Chicago area comes from us. If I catch anyone smuggling drugs into Chicago and selling them in our territory without obtaining permission or paying us royalties, I find and execute them.

  Since Luca is going to be on his honeymoon for the next two weeks, I – being his back-up – am in charge as underboss and will report directly to my boss, James. As head Capo in the Chicago Syndicate, officially third in rank after James and Luca, I never take my duty lightly. James and Luca have put a lot of faith in me. During the upcoming two weeks, I’ll be operating as underboss, second in command, while Luca is enjoying his new wife in Italy. And my only assignment is locating C
amilla.

  Just a few weeks ago, James revealed that Cam is his biological daughter from an indiscretion in the first years of his marriage to Alessa. No members of the Syndicate – except for Luca and me – know she’s related to James. It was a shock to learn but did clarify why James had been personally looking for her recently instead of ordering one of us to do so.

  Before I found out Cam was his daughter, I only knew that James hired her after some altercation in a restaurant that got her fired. So James gave her a job bartending at the strip club in the Syndicate’s headquarters – that was James’s way of getting close to her. However, he never got the chance to tell Cam they’re family because I fired her after she tried to help Fallon escape our headquarters. I thought it was the only way to protect Cam; to let her leave, but then she vanished.

  Now I’m wondering if she’s had an agenda since the day she came to work for us, and I’m starting to believe that she might’ve had an ulterior motive all along.

  After Cam and Fallon’s escape attempt, a bomb exploded at our headquarters. I’ll never admit it, but I know deep down that Cam planted that device. Luca has also had his suspicions, and while I disagreed at first, it’s becoming more obvious that Cam’s guilty. Only, I haven’t the faintest clue as to why.

  My last lead to Cam’s whereabouts was in the Loop. Her passport and credit cards aren’t being used, and there’s no way she could’ve left the country, or even Chicago, without my knowing. And Fallon helped Cam financially several times before Luca and I found out, but now Cam doesn’t have anyone providing her with money – as far as I know – so she has to still be in the Loop.

  How is she living? How is she surviving?

  Cam worked for us for a year and a half, and during that time, she was a constant, beautiful, yet difficult-to-manage, disruption to my perfectly organized sex life. I fucked them and left them, no promises – ever. Never did a woman get close to me, except for a quick fuck.

  Nonetheless, I coveted Cam from the moment I was first introduced to the Italian enigma, and I also kept going back to her, which was a novelty for me. She doesn’t even know how far she’s gotten under my skin.

  I remember nights when I’d drive up north to our headquarters just to be with her. Other girls in the strip club are interchangeable, and they entertain all our mafia men. However, I claimed Cam her first night there, and no one has been permitted to touch her since – I couldn’t stand the thought of sharing her.

  We spent many nights together, and even though she didn’t like to talk about her life, I at least thought I knew something about the type of person Cam was. But since she left, I’ve dug up so many new things about her that it’s made me realize I hardly knew her at all. I found out about the bomb. I learned she used to work in a hardcore sex establishment, Club 7. And she’s been alone since she was sixteen. I finally comprehend why Cam was always closed off; she didn’t have an easy life.

  I most recently discovered Cam’s a mafia princess, although she doesn’t know it yet. And now, James has ordered me to find her but keep my hands to myself. She’s off limits. Since his secret is out, he’s forbidden me to continue any sexual relationship with her because it’s against the hierarchy of the Syndicate. I won’t risk my position as Capo, but unfortunately, my dick usually overrules my mind when it comes to women. And it has a complete mind of its own when it comes to Cam.

  I plow a hand through my hair and let my head fall back against the seat. Closing my eyes, I evoke every second of our first meeting.

  *

  Two years and three months ago

  As I climb the stairs to the strip club of the Syndicate’s three-story headquarters, located alongside the North Shore of Chicago’s suburbs, I already recognize voices coming from the room at the end of the hall.

  I’m greeted by Luca and James, who are in the middle of the room beside the rounded burgundy sofa. I nod to both of them and fix my focus on the unknown woman with an attractive bob standing next to James. I’m usually not a fan of women with short hair, but who is this delectable creature?

  James takes his cue to introduce us. “Adriano, meet Camilla. She’ll be working here at the club from now on.”

  Why did he suddenly hire someone new? We’re not understaffed.

  I can’t help but stare at her. My god, her legs go on forever. She’s almost as tall as I am, and I’m over six feet. I inspect her body slowly, like no one is watching, and when I reach her face, I’m pleasantly stunned that she’s challenging me with an arc of her perfectly shaped eyebrow. Her eyes are deep brown and heavily lashed. She looks absolutely appetizing in a tight, black knee-length dress. Sexy, yet not too revealing. In other words, she’s smokin’ hot!

  “Camilla, nice to meet you.” I go old-school, take her hand in mine, and kiss her knuckles.

  Luca hides an eye-roll, but I catch it and grin.

  “Adriano,” she says huskily.

  Her voice is hoarse. Hoarse in the sexiest way I’ve ever encountered. I didn’t expect that sensual voice to accompany this striking woman who smells like vanilla. With her, my obsession with vanilla ignited.

  “Welcome to our little establishment.” Then I address James while holding on to her hand, “What will she be doing here?”

  “Bartending,” James answers.

  “Then I better show her the ropes.” I let the pad of my thumb swirl over her fingers, and she shivers noticeably; she’s not immune to my charms.

  And I guide this interesting woman to the bar, which is a stainless steel and black granite area that’s open at each end and set up like a juice bar.

  She speaks before we step behind it, “I can make drinks.”

  Her simple statement has me confused.

  “You look like you don’t believe I can tend the bar,” she explains.

  Oh no, sweetheart, I’m not doubting your qualifications. I’m just staggered by the sex vibes you’re throwing around with that voice and those gorgeous lean legs.

  I smirk while extending my hand, inviting her behind the bar. “No, I believe you.”

  That was the first night I tried to get Cam into my bed. I failed that night and for over three months after and almost gave up my chase, but it was too much fun to try to capture her. I don’t even think she liked me at first.

  *

  I’m jarred from my thoughts by heavy turbulence and the ping of the seatbelt sign, so I adjust my belt.

  Where are you now, Cam?

  She’s been missing for nine months. My first soldier, Damian, has been working around the clock to uncover any clue about Cam’s hiding place. I’m hoping for a positive update when my plane lands at Chicago O’Hare Airport. I have to find her, to know that she’s safe, but more importantly, I need to talk to her before James or Luca does.

  CHAPTER 2

  Camilla

  I sit here in this crappy one-bedroom apartment with paint peeling off the yellow colored walls. Before me on the bed is all my cash. It’s a pathetic pile totaling thirty-five dollars. I rummage my hands through my outgrown bob haircut in hopelessness. The rent for this place has been paid until the end of the month, which is today, but if I can’t pay for next month, I’ll be forced out.

  I bite my nail while my stomach growls in hunger, and I’m tempted to withdraw the fifty dollars I have in my checking account. But as soon as I do that, they’ll know where to find me.

  In the nine months that I’ve been on the run, I’ve been living off cash only and haven’t left an electronic trail. A friend helped me hide in Iowa, but when I was told that the Chicago Syndicate was on the hunt for me, I became more and more fearful all the time.

  I ran nine months ago because of my former ruthless mafia employer, Fat Sal, the owner of Club 7, the Loop’s most debauched underground sex club. I’m a liability to him.

  And apart from Sal, the Chicago Syndicate is also looking for me. The only reason why they would want me is because of a small device – a bomb – I accidentally dropped outside their hea
dquarters. I never even realized I dropped it. It must’ve fallen out of my pocket the night I helped Fallon escape. I got it from Club 7 and always had it with me in case of danger. Later, I heard it had detonated, and I’m pretty sure the Syndicate knows I’m guilty – they’ll never believe it was an irresponsible accident.

  “I can’t believe this!” Discouraged, I swipe the money off the bed with my arm and groan.

  I’ve never been this broke. Ever since my mom died of cancer when I was sixteen, I’ve been on my own. I did finish high school while I was in foster care for two years, but I never had the funds to pay for college, and without a college degree, all I could land was a waitressing job in the Loop. I didn’t earn much, but at least I could pay my bills and survive, even if I was living from paycheck to paycheck. I was proud of being able to take care of myself. But I also lived a lonely existence. Sometimes I met new friends, but friendships never lasted somehow. And I had absolutely no family. I always felt a little lost.

  My fifth waitressing job was at Club 7. I met Fat Sal when I started working there, at the official Club 7, which is the legal dance club on the first floor. The pay was decent, but the owner was very strict. I’d overhead rumors of an exclusive VIP area underground, which piqued my interest because I thought I could possibly make more money working there. But the employees of the dance club and the underground area were always kept separate, so no matter who I asked, I couldn’t find anyone who knew anything specific about the VIP area. Until I met a new colleague as I was leaving work one day, and she let it slip that she worked in the underground club. She was one of the hostesses, and we became casual friends.

  Eventually, curiosity killed the cat, and when the opportunity arose for me to sneak downstairs with the hostess of the underground Club 7, I chose to take it. And that choice, that split-second decision, is my biggest regret.

  *

  Two years and ten months ago

  The hostess has finally found a way to get me into the VIP area since I’m wondering what happens down there. I follow her to doors I didn’t know were an elevator, and we make our descent.

  The doors open into a beautiful space with soft music, white draperies on the walls and draped over four-poster bed frames, blood red carpet, and...people fucking; it’s a sex club!