Whatever You Need: (A Chicago Mafia Syndicate) (Castaletta Book 2) Read online

  I knelt down near the large drawer on the left of the desk and tugged it open. Papers and food wrappers intertwined, creating nothing of value. I dug down deeper, finding more pictures, love notes to a girl and a handful of hundred dollar bills. I closed the drawer, leaving everything as it was and moved to the other side.

  The sound of a door closing in the distance caused me to pause. I listened for the sound of someone approaching, but got nothing for my patience.

  I pulled at the drawer on the right, finding it locked.

  "Great," I mumbled and stood up to look for the key. My brother wasn't stealthy at all, nor was he responsible. The key would be somewhere obvious. I walked toward the open door in front of me and reached up to grab the smallest key on his wall.

  Another door slammed. Car doors?

  After tucking the key in my pocket, I turned the light off and snuck out into the warehouse, holding my breath and preparing for another run in with the Kallup boys. There was no way in hell they were done with us. Surely they expected us to be back at the Castaletta mansion and the warehouse open for them to rummage through.

  I made my way to the far side of the warehouse and glanced outside to see Catherine, D's sister, and D standing near the dock shoulder to shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her, and I stiffened. What were they doing? Why wasn't D looking for my brother?

  Turning, I jogged over to the office and knelt in front of the locked cabinet to try and get into the drawer. After breaking two nails on the piece of shit, it finally opened.

  The files inside were perfectly lined up and a video recorder sat beside them with several small tapes that were labeled with dates.

  "Izzy?" D's voice shouldn't have startled me, but it did.

  "In here." I grabbed the tapes and shoved them into my pockets before locking the drawer and standing. I wasn't sure why, but I wasn't telling a living soul about my findings until I knew what I was dealing with. Not even Demetri.

  My brother's life depended on it.

  "Hey. What are you doing?" He flipped on the light and stood in the door way as I brushed at my cheeks and put my back to him.

  "Just trying to find my brother. I thought maybe there might be something in here that would help me." I needed him to believe me, to think I was in pain or suffering from the events of the night. It was the only way to keep him off my back.

  "And? Did you find anything?" He moved closer.

  I glanced over my shoulders, trying hard not to covet his beauty. It stole my breath even after twenty-something years of doing life beside him.

  "No. Just a few pictures of the family. You know how Freddy was." I turned to face him and shook my head as he reached out to touch my face. "No. Don't. I'm fine. Just trying to work through everything."

  "Need something to take your mind off of everything?" He wasn't being cocky or really offering me anything from what I could tell. The deadpan tone he used said he was as weary as I was.

  "That depends on what you're offering."

  "Marco is taking over the search for your mother's killer, which includes finding your brother. When he finds Freddy, he knows to call you. We'll have you help him get some help at the rehab center we discussed."

  "And you think Marco is capable of finding mother's killer?"

  "I don't know, but the order is from your father, so it's not up for discussion." He ran his fingers through his dark hair and walked toward the door. "Come out here with me. It smells like shit in here."

  "Freddy got sick."

  "I'm aware." D stopped in the middle of the warehouse and turned to face me. "You and I are going to work on getting Freddy's replacement up to speed. His name is Marcus Blaine. He's a thug from New Orleans, but he knows his shit. I had Marco check in with him, and he seems like a solid choice."

  "Any personal references to make sure we're going to be safe letting an outsider into the family? Seems like a big risk at a time when we don't need any more risks." I put my hands on my hips and worked to not flinch as he reached toward me and brushed the back of his fingers over my breasts and stomach.

  "You got some dust on you." He licked his lips and glanced up at me after letting his eyes work slowly down the front of my body.

  "When are we meeting this guy?" There was no reason to fall for his kindness. He would be quick to pull it back and I was tired of hoping. It was for the weak, and in the world I lived in, there was no more room for softness, for femininity or vulnerability.

  Kill or die trying. Rule or bow down.

  "Tomorrow. I spoke with him earlier this week after talking with Selma a little about him. We can't wait to replace Freddy. Not with all the shit that has gone wrong. Someone has to clean up that mess and move us forward. We have suppliers waiting on product that isn't coming thanks to Freddy working for the Kallups."

  "You don't know that yet," I barked a little more forcefully than I should have.

  He stepped forward and gripped my chin hard, his eyes darkening into the monster I knew he could be.

  "Don't you dare go soft on me. Your brother is knee deep in this shit, and when we find the evidence to prove it, you know what has to be done. Don't make me do it for you. You won't like yourself in the morning."

  I pulled back from him and turned, walking toward the office. "When you find the evidence you let me know, but just a word of advice." I stopped in the doorway to the darkened office and closed my eyes, listening to the sound of his dress shoes as he moved closer.

  "What's that?" His voice still held some of the hardness from moments before, but not nearly enough.

  "Maybe you should be looking?" I smiled and walked into the office, closing the door behind me. I would go with him the next day to see this Marcus guy, but for the rest of the night, I wanted time to myself.

  I dropped down on the couch beside Freddy's desk and leaned my head back, ignoring the smell and waited for the sound of the main door closing. The second it did, I got up and worked on cleaning up the office.

  D would give me shit the next day for puffing up to him, but he'd get over it. He always did. It was just part of who we were together.

  "It's the history." D and I had been lovers since we were old enough to understand what love was. We'd promised each other the first time we made love as kids to the last time six years ago that we'd always be together. It seemed that forever had an expiration date in his mind. I knew his reasons for turning his back on 'us', but it didn't dismiss the string of reject or the devastation that reared it's ugly head deep inside of me when I let my guard down.

  Loving him was killing me, and yet I wasn't sure how to stop.

  I glanced around once more to make sure no one was watching before I reopened the drawer and pulled out the recorder. I needed explicit privacy to listen to what Freddy had tucked away in his drawer.

  Something told me that whatever was on the tapes had the power to save my little brother, or destroy him completely.

  Chapter 3

  Edward

  The night before proved to be a complete and total waste of time. Why Daniel and I thought that running around town looking for Freddy would prove beneficial was beyond me.

  Right. D told you too.

  I grumbled under my breath as I drove up to the plush Castaletta mansion. Demetri DeMarco was the under-boss of the organization, but it should have been Marco. Never in my life had I heard of a syndicate being run by someone outside of the family. Maybe D was part of the family and none of us knew it. No, that shit didn't work. He was sleeping with Izzy, or at least I suspected he was.

  "Sup, Nate?" I got out of the car and walked toward the front of the house, reaching out to clasp hands with the head of security. I liked the guy more than anyone else on staff at the house for sure. Everyone was moody, emotional and older, but Nate seemed to have his shit together.

  "Hey, Edward. How's it going?"

  "Good. You need my gun?" I released his hand and reached toward my back to pull my gun out of it's holster.

  "Nop
e. Don Castaletta hasn't changed his mind about allowing members of the syndicate to keep their weapons on the property."

  I lifted an eyebrow, but kept my thoughts to myself. I wasn't the poster boy of success in the Castaletta household. That position belonged to D. I was simply a great Real Estate mogul, an IT genius and Izzy's best friend from childhood. Where Joe trusted me as far as he could throw me, his beautiful baby girl had my full commitment. I'd loved her since the day she whooped my ugly white ass on the playground in third grade.

  "Take it easy." I nodded toward Nate and walked into the house, heading for the kitchen. The smell of cinnamon had my stomach growling. I rubbed it slowly and poked my head into the over-sized Italian style kitchen.

  Sylvia, Vivian's head maid was working on something at the stove, which was a little surprising and yet not. With Vivian gone, Sylvia couldn't have had anyone to pay much attention to. Izzy was the only other woman in the house that might need pampering, but she wasn't at all the type of woman who would accept it, not even from a man.

  "Smells great in here." I walked up behind the older woman and grasped her shoulders.

  "You hungry, dear?" She pressed her cheek to my hand and flipped a piece of french toast.

  "Always. I'm a growing boy, remember?" I smiled and released her. I'd been haunting the Castaletta mansion since I was a boy, and seeing how well it had worked in my favor, I wouldn't be stopping any time soon.

  "You're still growing?" She picked up a plate and loaded it with bacon, eggs and french toast. She turned and extended it toward me as I offered her my best, most flirtation smile.

  "Absolutely." I winked at her and took the plate as she blushed.

  "Stop flirting with the help." Demetri walked in and glanced over at me with obvious disdain on his face. I almost enjoyed pissing him off more than anyone else. Maybe because it was so fucking easy to get under his skin. Maybe because I knew the truth... my dream girl was lost to me. She belonged to the heart-less asshole hovering over my delicious breakfast.

  "The help?" Sylvia turned and put her hands on her hips. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "I don't think of you as help, Sylvia." I winked again and shrugged as D whipped his head around and pinned me with a glare.

  "I didn't mean it-" He started.

  "Nope. It's fine. The help is done with breakfast. Help your damn self." She huffed and walked out, mumbling about the over-saturation of testosterone in the house.

  "Morning, boss." I chuckled softly and shoved a big bite of eggs in my mouth as I glanced up at him.

  "You got those camera's up at the whore house?"

  "You know I did." I spoke through my eggs. "Maybe we should come up with a better title for the place, hm?"

  "Why? That's what it is. Stop sugar-coating shit. It's a waste of time." He fixed a plate and sat down a few chairs from me at the breakfast bar.

  "I don't bite." I glanced down at him and smirked. "Unless Izzy-"

  "Stop. I'm not in the mood for your shit today." He turned to face me, and I realized it was probably better that I shut up. D was the kind of guy that wanted everyone else in a body bag, and I was near the top of the list for sure. Izzy and I were fuck-buddies on top of being best friends. The guy hated me with a fiery passion for a good reason.

  "The cameras are up and working. I tested them yesterday afternoon before we went to the club." I glanced down at my plate and focused on how good the food was. I wasn't moody and overly aggressive like everyone else in the house. I was more like my mother, kind and fun, looking out for everyone and optimistic to a fault.

  "Good. I'm spread too thin right now, so Joe gave Marco the job of looking into Vivian's killer, and he's assigned you and Daniel the situation at Madam Giselle's place." He glanced over at me. "Better?"

  I ignored him. Asshole.

  "And what exactly are me and Daniel supposed to do? I'm not a cop and he's not a hit man. We do Real Estate, IT and guns. I'm thinking were just a tad out of our league, but that's just my humble opinion." I didn't look his way. There was no reason too. I knew he was hoping I would rot from the inside and fall over. The bastard would probably finish his breakfast and get on with his day like nothing ever happened. I couldn't blame him.

  I'd throw a fucking party if he killed over. After giving Izzy a long night to bleed out her painful emotions all over my cock, but the party would come for sure.

  "You guys are going to work with Sandra and hopefully the cop we almost have on staff, and figure out who the fuck is attacking the girls. We have the cameras, now you guys need to analyze the various callers that called in to set up an appointment on the days that one of the girls were beaten. Narrow down the caller to a time and date and let's set up something on the phones that will help us pick up on his voice or his location the next time he calls. It's not that hard." He worked on his breakfast and left me in peace for a few minutes.

  As much as I hated to admit it, the situation with the girls was somewhat my fault. I'd much rather have spent my time working real estate deals for Joe than installing camera's like a fucking handyman, but I should have done it when Sandra asked me.

  I'd blown her off a few times, and now all we had was a copy of the phone call to work with to find this fucker hurting the girls. We'd have a visual on his body type, his car and most likely his face if I'd done my damn job when she asked me too.

  Stubbornness was my greatest fault. Maybe that's why I hung out with Izzy. Some part of me hoped she would realize how good we could be together and turn her back on anyone but me.

  Pipe dream. Big fucking pipe too.

  "That sound like something you can manage?" He turned to face me.

  "Yep. Did you talk with Daniel about it yet?" I shoved three pieces of bacon in my mouth and wondered if Izzy was up in her bed. Was she still sleeping? If so, what was she wearing? Nothing, hopefully.

  "No, but I'll call him shortly. I have to meet with a new guy who we're considering for the narcotics capo position." D stood up and picked up his plate.

  "And Marco is looking for Freddy and trying to figure out who killed Vivian? Isn't that a little too much for a laid back personality like Marco?"

  "Not my call, and really none of your business anyway." He walked to the sink and washed his plate.

  "I'm pretty sure the way a syndicate works is that if you're in... everything is your business that happens with the family." I glanced up and gave him a hard stare. I wasn't scared of the bastard, nor would I ever be. If nothing else, Izabella protected my position with our relationship.

  "You must have been taught by reading a book. In the real world we don't all share information freely and lean on each other in times of trouble." D shrugged and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me with my thoughts.

  There was no way the Kallups were involved in Vivian's death. They'd been petty thieves, interested in small time robbery and an occasion beating or rape here or there. They weren't the type of guys who would be stupid enough to take on the Castaletta Syndicate. Whoever had the Kallup boys' balls in a vice was playing a dangerous game.

  And the real question that plagued me was whether they were done playing it. Was Vivian's death the end or the beginning of it all?

  "You look deep in thought. Almost too deep." Marco walked in and smirked as he stopped by the counter next to me. He snagged my last piece of bacon before I could stop him.

  "Yeah, it's the curse of being around you crazies." I picked up my fork and took another bite of my eggs. "Is Izabella here?"

  "Naw. She stayed out last night."

  "Stayed out where? With her new cop friend?"

  He snorted and walked toward the stove. "I don't think so, but I'm not sure. You know my sister, as unpredictable as the wind."

  "That's why so many of us run after her with our nets out, ready to try and catch her."

  "And yet she slips right through your fingers, doesn't she?" He walked back toward me with his plate in his hands.

  "We're so damn poetic. We s
hould write something beautiful just in case this mafia shit doesn't pan out." I reached over and stole a piece of bacon from his plate.

  He shrugged and pulled out his napkin, tucking it into the collar of his shirt and bowing his head to pray.

  I turned back toward my plate, not wanting to be a creeper.

  "Have you or Daniel heard anything from my brother?" Marco picked up his knife and fork and worked on his french toast like it was a piece of prime rib. He was by far the most proper of all of us. Refined. Regal. Not much like any of the other Castalettas.

  "No, but I didn't expect we would. If Freddy is going to call someone, it's going to be your sister." I pulled out my phone and shot her a text, letting her know I was at the house and looking for her.

  "I don't know about that. We busted him a few days ago in his apartment when he was high, and I'm pretty sure he got to see a side of Izabella that scared the shit out of him."

  "Oh yeah?"

  "Yes." He glanced over at me, his eyes a little wide. "It scared the shit out of me, and I was stone-cold sober."

  "She has the ability to do that." I got up and picked up my plate. "I'm heading back to the house to watch NCIS. Seems like I need to brush up on my detective skills."

  "Why's that?" Marco put his fork and knife down and tilted his head a little.

  "The Don wants me and Daniel to help with the situation out at Madam Gizelle's place."

  "Lucky boy." He smiled. "I get to hunt down my little brother and pray he didn't kill my mother. I'd much rather play around with whores and end up the hero at the end of the day."

  "You don't think you'll be a hero when this is all said and done?"

  He snorted. "Not at all. I'm sure I'll end up the Villain in one way or another... either I save my little brother or lead him to the slaughter. Neither is a good option considering the situation, right?"

  I nodded and toted my plate to the sink, letting the weight of his words rest on my shoulder. I didn't have any siblings, but I couldn't imagine having to step in Marco's shoes. Dealing with the whore house suddenly seemed like a much better option. That being the case, only if we caught the bastard terrorizing the girls before anyone was really hurt, or killed.