Black Hat Hacker (Chicago Syndicate Book 6) Read online

  “We can play for something else?” she speaks with innuendo, and at this point, Henry has downright forgotten about me, yet with Keano standing there, I have no right to take the moral high ground and scream at him as tiny cracks materialize in my heart.

  Keano opens his mouth but closes it when he spots the mini Chihuahua in my arms, pointing at her and looking at me questioningly.

  “I have a new pet,” I say.

  “Since when?”

  “Since today. But I’ll explain later. I have to see my brother,” I reply as Henry’s gaze is unexpectedly focused on me while he ignores Keano.

  “Why? Can’t we just go?” Keano objects.

  Oh, crap, this is awkward.

  I keep glancing between them, torn because I want to stay with Henry. Though when Jordana touches his shoulder and he grins and then watches me as she mutters something to him, I’ve had enough.

  “Maybe...” I answer, peering at Henry, all mixed up about if I should go with Keano but at the same time, hoping Henry will say that I can’t as the green monster invades me.

  Apparently, Henry misunderstands, because he comments dismissively, “You can go if you want. I’ll handle Adriano.” His words tell me to go, yet his eyes plead with me to stay. That is, until he turns his back to me, leveling his charm on his prize for the night.

  Still, he helped me and I don’t want to part ways like this, so I inch sideways and go up on my tiptoes to whisper into his ear, “Thank you. I was truly dreading facing Adriano.”

  A shiver runs through his body, but as he looks back at me, he’s obviously agitated, hissing, “You can’t get us into these situations anymore, Mary. This is the last time I’m helping you if you don’t discuss it with me first.”

  Before I can respond, he’s already walking toward the end of the bar where Jordana steps out from behind it and meets him while I merely stare at his retreating commanding frame, puzzled at his level of annoyance.

  Begrudgingly, I go with Keano, the man I’m dating, and leave Henry, the man who keeps friend-zoning me, behind. And I remind myself that he’s not mine. He’s simply a hacker in my brother’s mafia, the Chicago Syndicate, whom I’ve known for six months, yet he never really saw me until four months ago when I started to hang out with him.

  Does he ever think of that night? Does he ever think of me the way I think of him?

  After tonight, I understand why it’s torture on your heart to want someone who isn’t yours. They say love takes time – I don’t believe that’s necessarily true. Love can smack you right in the face and knock your socks off, like what happened to me the first time I saw Henry. But he’s never seen me in the same way.

  CHAPTER 2

  Henry

  I feel Mary go on her tiptoes from behind me, pressing against me in distracting ways to reach my ear. “Thank you. I was truly dreading facing Adriano.”

  “You can’t get us into these situations anymore, Mary. This is the last time I’m helping you if you don’t discuss it with me first,” I reprimand her, ready for her to get out of there so that I don’t have to see her with Keano. Otherwise, I might do something stupid, because I’ve clearly lost control over all my emotions.

  What the fuck does Mary see in that guy?

  She goes back down on her feet and my neck burns hot where her soft breath touched me. It’s been entirely too goddamn long. Frustrated, I stride away. Now I have to get rid of Jordana.

  As she steps out from behind the bar, she suggests, “Why don’t we have a drink upstairs first?”

  “No, thanks,” I reply, aggravated.

  “I thought we were going to play some one-on-one?” She shifts closer to me, oblivious to the fact that I used her.

  “Maybe another time,” I throw back, and she looks dumbfounded at my unexpected dismissiveness.

  I’m not interested in this girl that I slept with one time weeks ago. Most women I meet are straightforward, making it known they’re only in it for a quick fuck. But the way she gawks at me without shame – seemingly only concerned with my looks – is tiresome. No one really wants to know the man beneath the façade. This is how people are, and I play that game as well.

  I prefer dealing with systems to people; therefore, any woman who’s with me needs to understand the rules of a one-night stand. However, one night of empty sex after the next is becoming less satisfying for some reason.

  At twenty-four, maybe I’m finally ready to move forward from the woman who broke me. The woman I fell in love with when I was eighteen who repeatedly deceived me.

  I can’t say what’s happened exactly, only what initiated this unwelcome feeling a few months ago: Mary Montesi.

  *

  Four months ago

  When I enter Club 7, the first thing that gets my attention is a stunning woman in a bright green blouse and tight skinny jeans that accentuate a lush, round ass. While she seductively combs her reddish-brown copper curls over one shoulder as she flirts heavily with an Italian bartender, I recognize that it’s Mary.

  Although I only know her as Adriano’s little sister, I’m drawn to her tonight and stand behind her stool, planting both palms on the bar counter and caging her in, enjoying how petite she is. She’s short, but all woman. And the handful of times I’ve seen her since I initiated into her brother’s Syndicate, I’ve noticed that her smooth skin looks like it’s photoshopped.

  Bending down, I whisper into her ear, “Mary, stop flirting with him before Adriano kills him.”

  “Some room, please,” she chides, lifting a brow conceitedly, and my gaze strays to the beauty mark right above the corner of her plump lips.

  Disregarding her statement the same way she disregarded mine, I push my chest against her back and hear her sharp intake of breath, noting that there’s something different about her today. There’s a certain sadness marring her upturned hazel eyes – that are fringed with long, dark lashes – that’s contradictory to her usual spirited expression.

  Then, all of a sudden, she jumps off the stool. “Let’s dance.”

  Confused by her behavior, I follow her to the dance floor, curious to see what this vixen’s endgame is.

  Just as Mary turns around, she glares at me when another girl ogles me.

  I pull up my shoulders. “What—”

  But Mary catches me off guard by winding her arms around my neck and pressing her breasts against my chest. When she looks up at me, her smile is a little crooked and bold, as if there’s a hidden passion inside the innocent girl she portrays, waiting to be touched, waiting to be fucked. This is the first time she’s put her hands on me, and my dick hardens in response.

  My arms snake around her middle, and when she peeks over my shoulder, I smoothly rotate us in a semi-circle to find a blond guy scowling at me.

  He starts to move toward us, but I cock my head, mouthing, “Fuck. Off.” And I glare right back at him.

  Wait a minute. Isn’t that Keano? The man Mary’s dating? So she’s using me...

  Smirking, I pull her flush against me as she spins us around again, most likely to watch him.

  However, I distract her when I dip my head, my lips against the shell of her ear. “Trying to make Keano jealous, Mary?”

  She stiffens, saying, “Don’t men want what other men have?”

  “Do I look like a relationship expert?”

  “Just dance closely with me, I need him to see it,” she tells me in a bossy tone while observing him.

  Without difficulty, I swing us around again, making her protest, “No! I need to see him.” She pouts as I grin when he storms out of the club.

  “He knows you’re watching him. He needs to see you...Isn’t that what you want?” I sway her to the beat of the music, my hands drifting to her lower back, fingertips on the swell of her ass, and she’s now entirely focused on me. “Why don’t you let me show you how I can make you forget him?” I pull her into me and trace my nose down the bridge of hers, and her eyes fall closed as I weave a spell around her, gruffl
y whispering, “I’ve wondered how you’d look riding my cock, baby.”

  Her breathing is harsh when I brashly rub her behind, pressing her into my erection, and she moans before opening her eyes, in shock it seems, so I warn, “Feel what you do to me. You started this when you told me you wanted to dance, remember that.”

  A waft of perfume I can’t identify drifts up as I sweep her curls over one shoulder. I keep moving with her, and she isn’t tempted to look for another man anymore as the air around us grows thicker, the contours of her body now etched into my memory.

  “Come home with me, Mary,” I say in a low voice.

  She studies me, and for a second, I think maybe she’s going to be the first woman to tell me to go to hell.

  Yet she answers with a breathy, “Okay.”

  Without giving her any time to rethink her decision, I twine our hands and haul her outside to my car parked at the front entrance.

  Within twenty-five minutes, we arrive at my apartment in a four-story brown brick residential building in the Loop, and as she treads inside in front of me and gazes out the window at the stars lighting the sky, I glance at her sinfully sexy ass in those tight jeans she’s wearing.

  “I knew you’d have a million computers in your apartment,” she comments, peering at the lengthy desk pushed against the wall that holds two computers and two laptops.

  I take her by surprise when I fling my keys onto the coffee table and walk toward her with determination, spinning her around by her arm, grabbing her face in both hands, and latching my mouth onto hers as I kiss her with a ferocious passion.

  Mary clutches my dress shirt while I cradle her cheek in one hand and her ass in the other, pulling her against me as our tongues entwine feverishly. Teeth clash and I let out a growl when I taste her at last. I’m hard enough to fucking punch through my zipper as I slam her against the window, nipping her throat while her fingers weave into my hair. Groping her perfect little breasts, I groan and undo the top buttons of her blouse.

  “Oh, Henry,” she whimpers in a tone full of desperation and need, yet her eyes are squeezed shut, as if she’s fighting herself, amazing me when she says, “We can’t.”

  She’s the first girl I’ve ever known to feel guilty before she does something stupid and deceives her boyfriend.

  Mary leans back, and I stand up against her, gently brushing her curls from her face but pulling away when the familiarity of our interaction doesn’t sit well with me.

  What the fuck am I doing? I don’t do intimacy. I should run. Now. She’s my boss’s sister and isn’t a woman to mess around with.

  Moreover, with the way she was dancing with me and trying to make Keano jealous at Club 7, I can guess that they screwed up their relationship. And I don’t need to take advantage of that. Therefore, instead of fucking her to satiate my own lust, I exhale a heavy breath and release her, stepping back and letting my blood flow upward for a moment so I can think.

  Mary’s eyes open as she traces her swollen lips with her fingertips, apparently upset at her own actions. It sucks that my conscience decides to show itself today. I can’t use her like I use other women – she’s different.

  “Mary, tell me what happened with Keano. I can see something’s wrong,” I say to her, confounding myself with the fact that I care.

  She palms her forehead and sags against the windowsill. “He cheated on me last night. After I just slept with him for the first time.”

  Everyone cheats; I’ve lived through that too. That douchebag doesn’t even deserve her loyalty.

  “I might have misjudged him and let love blind me, or the idea of being in love. I don’t know.”

  Well, isn’t Mary full of surprises? I always thought she was immature and dreamy, more a teenager than a twenty-year-old. But she’s much more perceptive about love than I was at that age. I couldn’t once see that I was in love with the idea of being in love.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassed now.”

  I smile at her confession. “There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

  “We’re not even broken up or anything. I’m doing the same thing he did.”

  “You’re still with him?”

  “Kind of. We fought yesterday and haven’t talked since,” she admits sheepishly. “But...”

  “But what?”

  She evaluates me for a long, uncomfortable moment before saying, “Nothing.”

  “Go home, Mary. If you stay, we might do something you’ll regret.”

  “I’m not so sure I’ll regret it,” she mumbles, but a knock on the door interrupts us.

  For some reason, I don’t want to be her mistake. Plowing a hand through my hair, I repeat, “Go home. I won’t tell anyone about this.”

  Forcefully, she buttons up, muttering, “I should’ve just stayed home and watched Narcos.”

  “I saw the first episode yesterday.”

  “Me too,” she answers, her interest piqued. “It was so good. None of my friends have watched it.”

  “Yeah, I liked it too,” I reply honestly.

  She tilts her head to the side and appears hesitant to add more but then says, “We can watch the rest of season one together.”

  She doesn’t ask. No, she merely informs me, which is amusing and so fucking cute.

  “Okay. Sounds good.” I gesture for her to fasten all of her buttons before opening the door and ending our rendezvous.

  However, watching Narcos together the next few weeks actually ended up being pretty fun and prompted an unlikely friendship.

  *

  “Henry?” Jordana calls, jolting me back to the present.

  “I have to go,” I remark, hiking up the stairs, two at a time, and as I go, scrutinizing Mary being escorted out by Keano while wondering why she even left with him.

  Still irritated by Mary’s irresponsible behavior tonight, I realize my fist is clenched and try to shake this bizarre feeling that’s overcoming me, hating that she’s naïve enough to go on these undertakings by herself.

  When I pace across the second floor, the door to Adriano’s corner office is open and he’s settled behind his polished glass desk, stubbing his cig in the ashtray. Adriano’s my boss, the head of the Chicago Syndicate. The man who’s given me a future, power, and money to live a life an orphan could only dream of. The Syndicate rules the import of the purest heroin and cocaine into Illinois and their subsequent distribution, and for six months, I’ve been an official member as Adriano’s hacker and fifth in rank. I’m also the security director of Club 7, which is owned by Adriano and is the hottest dance club in the Loop that serves as a front for the Syndicate and also pays my salary.

  There are many captains and soldiers in the Syndicate who execute the day-to-day operations – the actual importing and selling of drugs in and around Chicago. And a large chunk of them are sold in the posh underground area of Club 7 where the sex club is located. It’s a cutthroat business, and earlier, when Mary tried to reach me, I was changing data on a police report, after hacking into the Chicago PD database much too easily, because Adriano needed to eliminate some competition in the area.

  Once inside, I stop opposite Adriano, retrieving my gun from my back waistband.

  “Where’s Mary?” he asks, leaning back and scratching the black hairs of his beard.

  “She left with Keano. I don’t think she wanted to face the music.”

  “So what did she do?”

  “She went to the shelter alone.” Agitated, I practically hurl my gun onto the surface of the desk. “But I got there in time.”

  His lips twitch in aggravation.

  “I tracked her phone. You know how determined she can be,” I update him.

  After being friends with Mary for four months now, I was certain that she’d go without back-up. She can be so obsessive about animal cruelty. It’s endearing, but it also pisses me off.

  “I’ll talk to her tomorrow at brunch,” Adriano explains in a resolute tone.

  “Good,” I agree. “Th
is is too dangerous.”

  “Then I might strangle her for going alone.”

  I smile. “I almost did.”

  “Thank you, Henry,” he says, getting his pack of cigs from the desk and taking one out with his teeth.

  “Not a problem. You know she’s my friend.”

  He evaluates me as he brings up a gold lighter to ignite the tip of his smoke. “I know. But she’s my little sister and impulsive sometimes.” He tosses the lighter back onto the desk and exhales slowly. “However, she’s also smart and kind. And I’m not a man to interfere in personal lives. So whether it’s friendship or whatever you want to call what’s between you two, just make sure you never hurt her. I will end anyone who hurts her, Henry. I won’t allow you to date her...for fun.”

  Smirking at his threat not to fuck with her like I do with other women, I assure him, “I don’t think I could handle Mary and her animals.” Adriano sends me a pointed look, so I hold up my palms. “I got it. Don’t worry.”

  “You better,” he states, leaning forward again. “You can go. I’ll see you tomorrow. I have to check our numbers because a batch of heroin is missing from the underground club.”

  I nod, pleased with the amiable relationship I’ve established with the most powerful man in this organization. Adriano has supported my friendship with Mary, and something tells me he doesn’t like Keano either.

  When I return downstairs, a waitress blocks my path, cocking her hip brazenly.

  “Hey, Henry. Haven’t seen you in a while. My shift is almost over. Maybe we can get a drink? I can text you when I’m done.”

  I sigh, annoyed at her forwardness and realizing I need to stop fucking around where I work.

  “You don’t have my number,” I throw back just as my phone chimes in, so I fish it out of my pocket.

  Tapping the message, I see that Mary’s sent a photo of her Chihuahua and a text.

  Mary (the hot one): Thank you for rescuing me. I’m sorry I went alone.

  Henry: Prepare for a lecture tomorrow.

  Mary (the hot one): Urgh