Chapter Eight
ENZO
My sister's asleep, as she should be. I've arranged for tutors on standby, ones green-stamped by her school.
Classes are meant to start up next Monday. The way the school is structured gives students longer school days and longer term breaks for those kids who go overseas with their families. Of course, for those who stay, they have the option of extra classes, trips, and whatever else is on the agenda.
But with a Monday start date that will creep up on us, I've entered talks about her schooling with home and in-class options, citing family issues and obligations.
The one thing I haven't done is run it all by Dad first. He's the one who has to sign off on it.
I'm thinking of framing it in a way that she'll spend longer for the remainder of the year at home and at school for the extra violin lessons she needs.
He'll go for it.
I think.
Next month, he has business in Chicago, so he won't drag her there, and spoiling her chances of the scholarship she'll apply for at seventeen isn't something on his agenda.
He might not like being a father in the way she needs, the way I needed in my teen years, but he sure as hell wants a virtuoso feather in his cap.
But tomorrow is a big violin day with her tutor, whom I've paid extra for. I don't particularly like people coming here, but I own the house next door, and the apartment on the bottom floor is perfect for the lessons and classes.
I'm sure Lyndall won't like it, but Lyndall's fifteen, so she can do what I say.
In that, I agree with Dad.
Actually, I agree she needs to be a kid until she's eighteen.
I'm restless. I push back from my computer in the basement and get up, checking the other programs I'm running.
Cade is looking at the alarm system they brought down to the house in the Catskills, probably with a naked Violet distracting him.
I rub my eyes.
If we knew who installed it and implemented the changes, then we would have an idea of who the digital architect is.
He doesn't need to be there for that. He has a copy, he can study it.
My phone pings.
Silas's message is less than satisfying.
Silas
Nothing on Dom's whereabouts. He's like most mafia, he uses cash.
With a sigh, I pick up the phone and respond.
Me
Even Dad uses CC.
Silas
Eye. Roll. I'm aware. But Rebecci on paper barely goes anywhere, buys nice suits, goes out to dinner once a week. Shops online.
Me
And?
Silas
And nothing. Above board. Banal. You get it. We've seen this shit before.
He's right, we have. Doesn't make me feel any better, though.
Me
He'll have that something we need to narrow it down to a property.
Silas
He's got a number of them. But he's a landlord. We found his getaway place, though.
One of them, probably his favorite, given its proximity to the city. But I'm betting it is not his deep hole one.
And not where he lives.
He visits.
And it's far enough out of the way to take problem people too. Dates as well, and even offer a haven for someone who wants to lay low.
A maid that's local and not a live-in import tells me that.
Me
Not the others.
Silas
I'll keep hacking, as will Cade, and we'll find it to get a team in there, maybe one without your father.
Me
Syndicate.
Silas
Unless you want to start a war.
I don't want to start anything.
We dabble with the edges of organized crime as the Syndicate. We have clients running from tycoons to scared women, mafia, and other organized crime, to helping the small man or woman.
The smaller jobs are our own business. Our own dime, our own time.
This has to fit into that.
An anonymous hit.
If I can.
I know what I have to do.
But I keep that to myself.
Me
Get on it with Cade. We'll reconvene tomorrow. I have some shit to do.
Silas
Like your girl?
Me
Fuck you.
Silas
Not my type.
I refuse to smile.
Shut your mouth.
Silas
Live wire failed to electrocute me.
Me
Fuck off?
Silas
I have better things to do than point out your major shortcomings as boyfriend material.
Me
Are we twelve? I'm not looking for a girlfriend.
Silas
So, you spy on women, pay for half their lives even before their father bites the dust, and then you stalk them for fun?
No, and he knows it.
Me
Better than stalking you to shoot you.
Silas
Asshole. She likes me better than you, anyway.
Adrenaline shoots through me at that, and I glare at my phone.
You wish.
Then I put it away and let the programs run as I lock up behind me, passing through the kitchen, pausing at the foyer where the new door sits shut, looking the same as before. Looking like no one rammed it open.
But I note the thick line of shadow around it. The door is thick steel, painted to look like it did, and I'm betting if I ran my hand over it, there'd be a thin veneer of wood.
Cade organized it through the ones we got in to fix his door.
The windows have all been done, and steel shutters now lock into place.
My house is its own safe room now.
But I don't plan for it to be attacked again.
I stare up the stairs.
Obviously, Lyndall has her own floor, one that has another guest room. And I'm not sure how she'll feel about lessons coming to her right next door, but—
But what?
She'll be fine.
Knowing her, she'll like it.
I'm just putting off thinking about the person I don't want to think about, the female consuming me.
She stirs a maelstrom inside me. One I didn't know existed, one that...
I blow out a breath.
I meant it when I said she's in my heart. How could she not be?
The rest?
I don't even understand the rest. Other than I don't want her to go.
I move into the study and pour a drink.
Then another.
On the third, the chill is lifting from me. The fog, too.
I want to solve this, make sure she's okay, along with my little sister, and then I need to tell Louie his issue is fixed and he can buy his startup back. And then...maybe then I can work out what this thing is with Lola. What she means, really means, to me.
But first, I need to call Dad.
"You decided to pull me into the loop after using my men?"
The warmth dissipates, and I pour another drink.
Fucking Dad.
"Forgive me for not dropping everything to come to you."
"Drop the fucking attitude, boy. I helped, and she is my daughter."
I fling myself down behind the desk, sipping my drink. "You don't act like it."
The words sit there like tiny sparking bombs.
"There are things in this world you don't understand. But I want what's best for her, and I'll be putting her back in school with armed guards if you don't sort all that shit out."
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
We're getting off topic.
"You called for a reason, boy. Do you want what I have?"
"Have?"
"If you're this slow, I'll rethink having you as my second."
I bite back how I don't want to be his second. "What do you have, Dad?"
"Intel on the prick's location. The one that took some digging, but I'm almost positive it's his residence.
Too many guards, too much time spent making people look in other directions.
He might be a kingpin because of what he's worth, but he also steps on too many toes, and the moment he crosses a line too far or stops being of use. .."
He doesn't have to finish.
Dom will be taken out, and the spoils claimed.
"I want him gone."
"Then you can use the team I loaned you earlier. Take him out on your own, under your name, not mine."
I hang up.
And then I call Cade and Silas, passing it along. Together, we can hack into the system Dom has, and then we can send in the men to take him out.
I finish my drink, at a loss for what to do until they need my skills, so I find myself climbing the stairs to my floor. But I don't go to my room.
Instead, I find myself outside Lola's room, heart beating fast as my libido ticks up.
There are things I could do. The right things.
Turn away.
Knock.
Instead, I punch in the code.
The print lock isn't set up, but the digital lock is enough, and as I open the door, heat licks up along my spine.
I should feel bad locking her up, but as I enter the dark room, my cock gets hard in my pants.
Even being in here without her knowing adds an erotic twist to my invasion and her captivity. It's a pagan beat in my blood, urging me on, and each step hardens my cock and makes it ache.
Lola is asleep, the covers pushed down, and she's in a big shirt I got her, one that's thin and the kind of material that feels good against the skin.
But what interests me most is the wispy lace panties.
Even though my eyes have adjusted, I can't quite see her pussy lips.
I look away.
My sister's phone is on the bedside table, and it should cool me down with a slap of reality, but it doesn't.
Instead, I reach out and touch Lola, running my fingers lightly down her spine.
She sighs and then she speaks, her voice thick with sleep.
"I thought you were giving me space." There's a beat as the air thickens. "Alex."
The alarm bells are drowned out by the heat of desire, and it's easy to play.
She's awake. I know she's awake.
And she called me Alex.
I take it as an invite, and I pounce.
"On your back, Lola, and don't move." My voice is barely more than a whisper, but she gasps and does as she is told.
She's looking at me, and I look around, sweeping up the T-shirt she had on before bed.
I wrap it over her face, leaving her mouth exposed.
But this time, she breaks the rule and pulls it to cover her mouth.
My lips twitch.
She wants whatever this is, but she's also still angry.
Fine by me.
I could fuck her. Turn her and plow into her ass.
But I don't.
I go down on my knees and pull her panties to one side, licking at her slit.
She moans, and it urges me on.
She tastes sweet, like honey, a perfect flavor enhanced by the hint of salt. And she's so fucking soft and wet.
I slide my fingers into her, pumping slowly, massaging her G-spot as I move my mouth up to suck and fondle her clit.
The moaning and gasping grow, and she pushes back before stilling herself like I told her not to move. But she's pulsating.
I start to fuck her with my fingers harder, and I add the merest scrape of teeth against her clit as she tries to stop herself from grinding into me.
She explodes, coming up off the bed, her pussy pulsating on my fingers.
I let her ride it out, slowing down my thrusts.
"I'm going to leave. No phone. Stay like this until you count to one hundred."
"This changes nothing between us."
"One hundred."
"And if I don't?"
"I'll know."
She's quiet for a moment as I thrust softly into her with my fingers one last time. "You said you weren't watching."
I'm not, and that's the truth. But I just pull out my fingers. "One hundred."
I leave the room, sucking her juices off my fingers, locking the door behind me.
The rest of the night, I work, trying not to think of her and talking myself down from putting in cameras.
Which is fucking crazy.
Just like going in there was.
I probably set everything back.
Even if I didn't, I'm well aware that nighttime shit has a way of fading when daylight comes.
But though the day hasn't quite broken, we're ready with a plan.
And, of course, my fucking phone rings.
"Please, Silas, tell me he gave himself up?"
"He just might, if we could get in there."
"We know it all works—"
"The hacks did work. We went in and out again, and trust me, no one noticed."
The irritation is more than evident. Because of course I trust him. And I don't like what he's saying. "What happened?"
"It's like someone changed their whole security system. Almost like they got tipped off by someone."
"You don't sound finished," I say.
"I'm not. Because I've got my doubts that Rebecci is even there. The thermal cameras haven't detected anyone that fits Dom's height and body shape, and Cade is checking now, but these changes seem to be at Dom's other places, too."
"He's upgrading after we broke in."
"Cade said he already did that. So..."
"Put it on ice for today. I'll call my fucking father."
I have to organize meals that Lyndall demands, along with making an appearance at the office.
Lyndall's under strict instructions that Lola stays in the suite, or she'll go back to Dad. It's enough of a threat for me to know she'll obey.
I'm not a jailer, I just don't want Lola to run again because this time, it might take longer to find her. I might be too late.
I take off my tie the moment I get in and call Dad.
"What happened?"
"I was going to ask you the same, Dad. He's not there."
"Fuck."
"How trustworthy is your source?"
"Don't question me," Dad snarls. "I'll look into it though."
I'm about to hang up when he speaks again. "How's your sister?"
I almost drop the phone. But I take a breath. "Still in shock, a little." She isn't. She's resilient as fuck. "But she's okay, otherwise." Then I swallow and offer the olive branch. "You can come and see her if you'd like."
"I'm too busy."
I press my lips together, my head starting to pound.
Excuses. Like always. Same old every fucking time.
Dad has never had time to be a father to Lyndall, so why start now?
When I hang up, I gaze up the stairs.
I haven't seen Lola since the midnight visit and going down on her, playing into our Alex fantasy.
But I don't go there. Instead, I head for my suite.
I'm not up for another fight right now, and I'm sure she's itching for one.
Fighting with her can be...enticing, energizing, but right now I don't have the energy.
Shit, maybe sex can assuage this deep-rooted anger but won't get rid of it completely.
And maybe some of it is directed at myself, because while my excuses make sense and what I did all came from a good place, maybe I'm mad at myself, too.
What I did was, on some level, unforgivable, regardless of my intentions.
Worse.
What do I do if she can never get past it? Is there any point in trying?
But I don't think I'll be able to help myself.
Lola is...special.
And my life will feel empty without Lola in it.
I have to win her over, make her see it from my point of view. Because her not forgiving me isn't an option.
I'm going to have to wait as long as I need to.