For Adriano (22 page)

***

James has a time and place much sooner than expected and texts us the details of the appointment for tomorrow while we’re on our way down to my beamer.

The darkness of the parking garage is replaced by the darkness of the night when I drive out and turn to the left, entering a side street that leads to the main highway. I press the button to open the window and let the warm summer breeze rush inside my car. 

Then a loud bang resounds off the interior. I brake before I round the corner, and then another thud hits the metal exterior of my car. Luca and I bend forward when another shot rings out.

“Someone’s shooting at us!” Luca snatches his gun. “We need to ditch the car. We’re a huge mark in this vehicle.”

We’re being targeted on the street, between the skyscrapers. Hurriedly, I put the car in ‘reverse’, and I hit the gas, speeding backward in a straight line, past the garage entrance. Then I brake and turn the steering wheel with one hand, back into the lot, parking in the first vacant spot we see. 

“We split up,” Luca orders with his palm on the door handle. “Don’t go back inside; we can’t have a shooting inside this empty building; we’ll be visible on all the security cameras. We don’t use our weapon until absolutely necessary. Meet at my place.” And he jumps out, as do I. 

Creeping down beside my car, I round the front, staying low beside the inner wall of the garage, and then I make a break for the exit in a straight run just as Luca runs ahead. 

Then I leave the garage, running toward the entrance of the street that opens into the main road while restlessly checking the area. 

Taking a right, I almost stumble upon a woman walking her dog but dodge her just in time. I slow my walk as I spot nothing out of the ordinary, but then I distinctly hear another thud through the wind, engines, and street murmurs. The surprisingly busy lanes for this time of night make it impossible to discern from what direction the shots are coming. 

As I move forward along the curb, my hand is on my back, gripping the handle of my gun that’s hidden underneath my untucked dress shirt. I’m taking a huge risk with this stance with people behind me
and
a cop standing at the intersection I’m approaching; there’s been an accident, which explains why it’s so busy.

Cars honk, and I zero in on the tower across the street, which is most likely where the sniper is hiding. 

Suddenly, up in front of me, right underneath the street lantern, a guy in washed jeans wearing a Bears baseball cap collapses, and chaos erupts. People start to scream when blood seeps out of his temple as he lies face-down on the concrete.

I look up and hide behind a pedestrian as the cop notices the people gathering at the curb. Taking cover in the crowd makes it easier for me to maneuver without the possibility of catching a bullet, but I get my gun out anyway since the shooter could be working with an ally that’s on the ground. 

My phone vibrates in my pocket.

Inconspicuously, I turn into a dead-end street and keep peeking around the corner with my gun aimed at the ground. 

Aggravated, I fish out my phone that keeps vibrating and frown when ‘Blackhall reception’ flashes across the screen. That’s Luca’s residence. 

I swipe the phone and hold my gun behind my hip as I answer, “Yes.”

“Mr. Montesi?”

“Yes. Speak quickly,” I order while glancing around the corner and hearing sirens approach the crime scene.

“Sir, I tried to contact Mr. DeMiliano, but he didn’t answer. You’re the first reserve contact. A package has arrived for Miss Guillermo. I scanned it, but she walked in and demanded to take it up with her. I’m afraid there might be disturbing content in it.”

Nerves spike up. “What was in it? Was she alone? Where’s David, my guard?” 

He clears his throat. 

“Listen! Was it an explosive device?”

“Oh, no! No, sir. Nothing like that. More like…a body part.”

“And you let her take it with her?” I spit.
“Stupido!”
Fool!

“Sorry. She was very adamant.”

“Where’s David?”

“Right here, sir.”

“Let me speak to him.”

“David here.”

“Go to Cam, and do not let her or Fallon out of your sight until Luca or I arrive. We have trouble. Their safety is your only concern.”

“Yes, sir. I was already on my way up when the receptionist told me about the content of the package.”

I stash the phone back in my pocket and suddenly feel pressure against my gun, so I whirl around, and my eyes widen in shock when they land on the small round face of a young boy, who’s touching my gun with his fingertips.

I take a step back as I hear a woman’s voice coming closer, yelling. Probably his mother. Stashing my weapon back in my pants, I press my finger against my lips and wink at him, making him smile and reveal his tiny teeth.

Then I turn the corner and walk in a normal pace toward the subway that will take me to The Blackhall, deserting the scene right before the cops arrive.

***

The entire time I’m on the subway, I’m anxious to get to Cam. We’re being attacked full frontal. In every aspect of our life – even our personal lives. This will be dealt with according to Syndicate regulations: retaliation. 

I call my brother, Carmine, and instruct him to go to my parents’ apartment and stay inside with them and my sister, without explaining why. 

Luca informs me through a text message that he’s taken a cab to his penthouse and that James is also coming to meet us there.

Within twenty minutes, I’m barging through the reception area of The Blackhall. The receptionist shoots me a troubled look when he recognizes me. 

Tensely, I push the elevator button, but it seems to take forever.

Desperate to ensure that Cam’s safe, I swear under my breath. I need to hold her tight before James gets here.

CHAPTER 25

Camilla

Fallon cancels on our ten p.m. self-defense class because she’s too lazy after smoking the pot, so I get to travel alone – with David of course. I’m eager to work out because I want to grow stronger physically. It has empowered me from the first class, and I don’t want to skip it. This is also my window to talk to Wade alone. Usually, I’m with Fallon and David. I’m rarely alone, except at night in bed. 

In the back seat of David’s car, I text Wade to secretly meet me at the gym in the women’s locker room in an hour. My class is forty-five minutes and the last one of the day, so the changing room will be empty by that time. 

Wade confirms within a minute. 

I smile when I see his acceptance without any further questioning. I had a hunch he’s a helpful guy. From what I’ve learned from Fallon, he’s a private investigator and trustworthy. He’s exactly the kind of man I need for the job. 

Slightly nervous, I bite my lip, knowing it’s not smart to go behind James, Luca, and Adriano’s backs, but they can’t expect me to just sit around, living the new life, while they figure out some master plan. James might be persuaded, but I can tell that Luca and Adriano are in no way planning to help Santino.

Nevertheless, I’ve been waiting for nine months, and I’m not waiting anymore. I have money, my strength is increasing, and James is teaching me so much about the Syndicate that I’m starting to think I might be offered a place within the organization, which I would accept. I’m enjoying this newfound power. Without any education, I’ll never find a normal job besides waitressing, and I’m not planning to go back to that either.

***

After an intense class that wipes me out, I stay to talk to my instructor while I wait for the last five people to leave the locker room and David waits for me in the gym area. When the last woman leaves, I thank my instructor and go in to meet Wade.

He’s sitting on the bench, slouching against the wall with his legs crossed at the ankles.

“You summoned?” he says mockingly.

“You’re a P.I. I need information on someone.” His stoic expression makes me add hurriedly, “If I hire you, is there some kind of client confidentiality agreement?”

“I’m not a lawyer,” he retorts with a smile.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes. I won’t speak of any business between us. What kind of information do you want?”

“I want to know more about Sal, the owner—”

“Of Club 7,” he finishes with furrowed brows.

“Yes. Do you know him?”

Wade’s head tilts to the side. “I’ve heard of him. What do you want to know, specifically, and what are you planning to do with the information once you have it?”

“I want you to find out what happened to a guard of his, Santino. I don’t have a last name.”

“I don’t need surnames,” he replies and continues, “And I suppose Adriano can’t find out?” 

Sighing, I answer, “Exactly.”

He’s contemplating my request and then suddenly speaks. “Who are you, Camilla Guillermo?”

“You’re not investigating me. And I don’t have much time. How much do you cost, and can you help me?”

Wade rises and comes toward me at the door. “I’ll think about it.”

“I need an answer by tomorrow night,” I demand, lifting my chin.

A grin flashes across his face. “Tomorrow night.”

***

After a hurried shower, I put on a cotton tank top with a loose fitting skirt and head back to Fallon’s.

“Miss Guillermo, a package has arrived for you,” the receptionist says as he places it under a scanner.

“This late?” I ask, surprised.

“Oh my god!” His palm covers his mouth.

“What? Give me the package!” This can’t be good. All the blood has drained from the guy’s face. I know that Luca and Adriano wouldn’t want him involved in this, so I lean over the counter and snatch the square cardboard box off the desk. It’s surprisingly light in weight and something thunks against the sides.

His hands shoot out. “No!”

David comes up right behind me and orders, “Leave Camilla alone.” 

I scoff at the receptionist and take the package with me upstairs, dread filling me.

Fallon rises from the couch when I enter with my box in hand and place it on the granite kitchen island. Apparently, Rosalia has gone home. 

“What’s that?” Fallon comes into the kitchen.

“I don’t know. It was just delivered, but I didn’t order anything. And the receptionist guy acted shocked when he scanned it,” I answer and slide my bag off my arm, resting it on the barstool.

Fallon hands me a knife from the island drawer, and I glide the tip over the sealed top. 

Opening the lids, I gasp in horror when my gaze lands on an ear covered in blood and torn skin on a bed of blood-soaked cotton, and I shove the box away. 

“What is it?” Fallon reaches for the lid.

“No!” I snatch it back. “You don’t want to see.”

A frown sweeps over her forehead. “What is it then? You’re completely pale.”

The elevator doors swoosh open, and I jump at the sound. 

“It’s an ear,” I murmur, and her eyes widen just as David comes into view.

“I was called and ordered to stay with you two,” he announces in a formal tone. 

Fallon and I glance at each other.

“I know what’s in the box,” David adds and checks it. “Are you okay?” He looks from me to Fallon. 

Shaken into silence, Fallon simply nods; so do I.

And then I learn how fast communication lines work in this Syndicate. “Who ordered you?”

“Adriano.”

So Adriano already knew about my receiving the box before I’d even opened it? I’m positive it’s from Sal, but whose ear is that? Santino’s? I
knew
this would happen if I waited too long. 

That pesky feeling of guilt screams at me that I waited much too long, and the hatred for Sal multiplies even more. This is why I want to be part of the Syndicate; I want to be able to protect myself and to strike back. I’m so done with being defenseless.

We stand there in silence, and I can tell that Fallon also wants to fire a million questions but knows never to talk about Syndicate business without the four highest ranking men present. 

Again, the doors open, and James steps inside, giving me a once-over as he approaches me. “Did you open it?”

“Yes.” 

He places an arm around my shoulders, and it’s strangely reassuring, yet still a little awkward.

“Was there a note?”

I shrug while I’m swimming in thoughts. “I don’t know.”

Again, someone enters the penthouse: Adriano, who searches me out instantly, perking a brow and asking if I’m okay without a sound, so I nod.

He’s sending me a look I haven’t seen since I’ve been back; the look he used to give me when we first met. As if I’m not real, but a figment of his imagination.

We all stand around the island when Luca arrives last.

“A note?” he asks and wraps his arms around Fallon. She pushes her face into his chest, and he caresses the back of her head. “Go to the bedroom. I’ll be there in a minute.”

James presents a typed note with blood spatters:
‘Dear Camilla, guess whose ear?’

I bend my head, letting out a sigh, and press a palm on the counter. “Santino.”

No one speaks a word, but I’m sure the men around me are communicating silently, and then James says to Luca and Adriano, “I need to talk to you two on the terrace.” 

They follow him out, leaving me with David and the box. And my remorse. And my growing loathing for Fat Sal, which I’ve already carried for years.