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Killing Me Softly: A Chicago Mafia Syndicate (Castaletta Book 3) Read online

Page 3


  "You're up late." Nate smiled as I approached the front door, tugging on my leather jacket as I approached.

  "Couldn't sleep. Is Marco here? Has he come back tonight?"

  "Nope, but I heard he's been knee deep in some tough shit tonight. I don't have details, so no pressing me for answers, but you might want to try and find him."

  Nate's concern for my brother was a little off. I'd obviously missed something big in my fuckfest with Demetri. Too bad it was cut short. Should have lasted all night.

  "Alright. Thanks for the head's up." I headed to my porsche and let my eyes scan across our expansive front yard. The spotlights bathed a good chunk of the yard in bright yellow light, but just beyond the edge of the light were memories I hated to entertain.

  Planting flowers with my mother.

  Playing in the sprinkler with Edward.

  Making love to Demetri behind the big oak tree and carving our names into its base.

  Life promised to be good, but it had become anything but.

  The warmth of having my lover between my legs should have offered comfort as I climbed into my car, but it didn't. It was almost a haunting reminder of what I would never have.

  I dialed D's number as I pulled the car toward the road and waited to hang up until it went to voice mail. My brother Marco was next on my list.

  "Izabella?" His voice was soft, scratchy, haunted.

  "Hey. I can't sleep. Something feels off. Where are you?" I turned on my headlights and made a right turn out of the long driveway.

  "I'm sitting outside of St. Mary's."

  I waited, half expecting some type of explanation as to why my brother was hanging out outside of the church where we buried mom, but silence filled the line between us.

  "Alright. I'll come to you then." I forced myself not to sound as put off as I felt. First my father fucked up the night with Demetri and now Marco, my older brother was hanging out at church at three in the morning. I could deal with a lot, but inconsistency of character got on my nerves.

  Was Marco upset about momma? Did he find something out about her that I wasn't aware of?

  Seeing that he was the one in charge of searching for her killer, it would make perfect sense. Maybe that was why dad was so upset, so numb earlier.

  I pressed the gas and sped toward the church, trying hard not to get too far ahead of myself. The evidence up to that point had a bright light cast on the Kallup boys, a group of small time thugs that usually ran dope and not much more.

  They'd gotten a little more ballsy as of late, and it had something to do with the Cooper Syndicate in California. Someone was funding their expeditions and giving them more than enough borrowed courage to fuck with my family. Adam Cooper was our best bet, but why?

  Although I'd had no interaction with the Cooper family, Terrance Cooper, Adam's father had been close with my own father at one time. Where the fallout happened, I wasn't sure.

  "You're not quite sure of anything, really, are you?" I pulled into the parking lot of St. Mary's beautiful cream-colored cathedral and turned the car off.

  My older brother's figure was illuminated by the iridescent blue moonlight from above, his shoulders rolled in, his head down and back shaking slightly.

  "Marco?" I got out of the car as my heart constricted in my chest. Was he crying? I'd only seen him break down a few times in our past, the one that haunted me being the day he disowned the leadership plans my father had for him as the eldest son in the syndicate.

  The disappointment and disgust on my father's face was enough to make me want to crawl in a corner and cry along with him. How Marco picked himself up from that tongue lashing and kept going was a mystery. Or was it?

  "Momma," I whispered as tears burned my eyes. Our mother had moved in front of him as he cowered before our father, the five of us in my dad's office with the doors closed. The moment pulled me under as I walked through the chilled parking lot toward my brother.

  "Joe. Back off. Not everyone is made of the same stuff as you are." My mother lifted her hands and stood in front of Marco as he sat on the couch, his body curled up from my father hitting him with balled fists.

  The veins in my father's face were pulsing, his eyes filled with rage and hate. "Get out of the way, Vivian. This isn't about you."

  "Like hell it's not. He's my son." She reached out as her voice broke. Her fingers brushing down the side of my father's face. "He's our son, baby."

  "Is he?" My father barked, surprising me by his questioning. He was simply being irrational.

  "Of course he is, Joe. Stop going down this path, or you're going to hate yourself." She moved closer and pulled him into a hug.

  As much as I wanted to run from the room, I couldn't. I was frozen in place with my back against the far wall, my arms crossed over my chest and a nonchalant, I don't give a fuck look on my face. I held myself together by a string and ignored the soft panting beside me.

  Freddy was tucked against my side, shaking.

  Everyone was used to my father blowing his top, and it was scary as shit when it happened, but it was terrifying when it turned inward and he attacked one of us. There was nothing to do but pray to my mother's God that he would back off.

  "You're taking this position, Marco." My father moved my mother to the side and took a step toward the couch where Marco was trying to uncurl himself from his latest beating. "If not you, then who?"

  I stepped up as fire burned in my belly. "I'll do it. I'm more suited for it. I want it."

  My father jerked his face toward me, his eyes narrowing. "You're a killer, Izabella. That's what I need you to be. Nothing more."

  "But I am more." I took a few steps forward and let my hands drop to the side, working like hell to look as if I were completely cool with challenging my father. I was his princess, his hitman, his only daughter. He had plans for me that my mother completely disagreed with, and yet, I was more than ready to prove to him that I was the strongest of his kids. I would stand in front of Freddy and Marco and even him if I needed to one day.

  "You're just a girl. Stop offering things you know nothing about." My mother moved from my father toward Freddy. "This conversation is over. You don't need anyone to take your place for a long time, Joe. These teenagers are just babies. We'll have this conversation again in ten years."

  "No. We have it today," he barked and glanced down at Marco, curling his lip in disgust. "You're no son of mine. And if you are, then I wish you were never born. Fucking pussy."

  "Joe!" My mother yelled as the memory faded. My older brother belonged to my father, but he was nothing like him. He was kind and giving, insanely studious and simply longed for a different life - a different family.

  How could I have forgotten? Because my father played the part in front of everyone else. Because he’d stopped treating Marco like shit soon after Demetri stepped up to take Marco’s place as future Don of the syndicate.

  "Marco?" I called out again and stopped just beside the playground where he sat slumped over on a swing that moved back to and fro.

  "I don't know why I can't ever be enough." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and glanced over at me. Even in the moonlight, I could see how hard he'd been crying. The pain in his face was etched in lines along his eyes. "I have to leave here, Izzy. I can't do this anymore. Come with me."

  "Come with you?" Horror raced through me. What the hell had happened and what was he planning? You didn't leave the syndicate, not even as family.

  "Yes." He stood up, his hands still clinging to the rusty ropes that held the swing to the large pole above. "Tonight was..." His voice broke.

  I moved before thinking another thought, pulling him into a tight hug and cupping the back of his head. "What happened? Tell me what I can do to make it better."

  He let out a long sob, his heart breaking tore mine apart. He didn't belong in the family, though he'd been trying so hard for so long. Even our crack-addict little brother, Freddy fit better in the middle of the crime scene than
Marco did. He should have been a professor somewhere or a librarian. He was an intellect, and his methods and ideas were rarely welcomed.

  That he'd finally stepped down and let D have the leadership of the family wasn't something that surprised any of us. It had been a great relief to my mother, and unbeknownst to anyone else - to me too.

  "Freddy's gone." He moved back and wiped at his eyes. "He's gone and it's my fucking fault. That poor kid just needed someone to defend us and you guys sent me." His voice rose, his eyes widening. "Who have I ever been able to defend? They shot him right in front of me, Izzy. They treated him like a dog, forcing him to sleep in his own shit on a little pallet and feeding him nothing but drugs and bread since we lost him."

  White hot pain raced through the center of my chest, and I reached out to steady myself, my mind splintering at the idea of Freddy being dead. "Who killed him?"

  "Who do you think?" Marco threw his hands in the air, his cheeks stained with tears, his tone bordering hysteria. "The fucking Kallups, Izzy. They're not a small time shop. Or if they are, then we are too."

  "Hey. Come here." I reached for him, but he jerked from me.

  "No. First momma and now Freddy, and you bastards have been running around town, trying to prove that our little brother who can't even remember to tie his fucking shoes was the mastermind behind mom's death." He pointed at me, his expression filled with rage. "You should have saved him."

  The sting of his words almost brought me to my knees. He was right.

  "I couldn't find him," I whispered.

  "It was your goddamn picture on his phone when I found it. He knew that with momma gone that you were the only one that could save him, but you were too busy. Too busy trying to make dad happy, or wax Demetri's cock," he screamed his words. "Do you think he cares for you? No. He doesn't. He has a million secrets that he keeps from you Izzy. You're nothing to him!"

  "Why are you saying this?" Devastation swelled in my chest. Marco and I had always been close, loving each other through more horrors than most would ever have to see.

  "Because, sis," he bent over, pressing his hands to his knees as his tone deflated, "because it's true. You can't trust them. None of them. Someone set Freddy up, and it wasn't me. Was it you? D? I'm so fucked up over this, I can't think straight."

  I had my way in. "Let's get you home and we'll figure it out together. I'd never hurt Freddy or you. You're the only family I have." I reached for him and he let me put an arm around his shoulders.

  "Are we?" He gave me an odd smile.

  "Yes." I hoisted him up and walked toward the car. "Where is Freddy's body?"

  I was too numb to feel the horror of talking about my little brother being dead, but just like mother's death slammed into me, Freddy's would to. Marco mumbled something under his breath and sagged against me.

  There would be time for questions later. I got him in the car and walked around my side, pausing to let my eyes move out along the gravestones. Momma was out there. The grave beside her meant for my father, but it would seem that her youngest son, my little brother would be taking his spot.

  Marco glanced over at me as I got in the car, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I held him as he bled out. He was so fucking brave, Izzy. You can't imagine."

  Tears spilled over onto my own cheeks as I reached out and took his hand. Someone was tearing us apart from the inside out, which meant one thing.

  It was one of us pulling the strings, but who?

  Chapter 5

  Marcus Blaine

  It plagued me all night that I hadn't stopped Demetri from taking the bag of Zandra. It wasn't my fucking business, but I knew how damning it could be. And how good it felt to just let go and not give a fuck. The two emotions raged deep inside of me as I walked around the over-the-top apartment I was stuck in the next morning.

  My phone sat idle on the table, and damn if I didn't walk over and run through the last few texts Katie and I had shared.

  I pulled up her contact information and dropped down at the kitchen table, holding my breath as the phone rang three times. Just as I started to hang-up, she picked up.

  "Marcus?" She was out of breath.

  "Who is it, baby?" Jon's voice filled my ears.

  It was just before lunch on a Saturday morning. Friday nights at Expulsion, Kate's club were insane. Of course they'd just be waking up, and what better to wake up than rolling Katie on her stomach and driving into her tight ass from behind.

  "Yeah, it's me." I forced myself into a calm I didn't feel. "Did I interrupt something?" I chuckled as if them fucking didn't matter to me.

  "You did." I could hear her smile. "Everything okay?"

  "Couldn't be better. Just wanted to make sure you guys were doing alright."

  "We're good. Can I call you back later?"

  Jon's voice rose again. "Hey man. Good to hear from you."

  My jaw clenched. Part of me cared about the cop like a brother, but the fact that he had my girl's heart left me wanting to put a bullet in his skull.

  It's for the better. Kate deserves a better life than the one my punk-ass is capable of giving her. She's not the mafia type. Period.

  "Even in the middle of you fucking my girl?" I snorted and stood up, running my hand over my bald head and stifling a growl that would have let him know exactly how I felt.

  "You know I'm willing to share. Come back home."

  Kate yelped, and I smiled. "No you just didn't!"

  "He did. Kick his ass and give him the finger. Come up here to Chicago and let me show you what a real man feels like." I ran my hand down my stomach, grabbing my cock as it hardened. As piss poor as it felt to know her and Jon were rolling around in the sheets, my mind had already gone to the dark side of things. She was so giving in the bed, so wild and untamed.

  "Maybe soon." She laughed as Jon started giving her shit.

  "Alright. Be careful and call me when you have a few minutes. I want to talk to you about some business stuff regarding the club."

  The sound of the kissing left my heart racing a little too fast. Fuckers.

  "Later, handsome." The phone call ended, leaving me wanting so much more than I would ever be able to have again.

  Kate had been my best friend since we were young, each of us taking care of the other in more ways than one. She'd let me explore every inch of her perfect body and release myself in her, on her, around her.

  I groaned and tugged on my cock. I was going to have to find someone to take my time and attention, or at least give me a run for my money in the sheets.

  A knock at the door was followed by a male voice. "Marcus. You up, man?"

  Opened the door, I couldn't help but lift my eyebrow. Edward, the real estate guy was dressed in a polo and khaki pants, loafers and not a hair seemed out of place. The guy was almost comical.

  "Hey. You always bother people this early?" I snorted and moved back, not worried about hiding my hard-on. His problem. Not mine.

  "Yeah. Some shit hit the fan last night." He shrugged. "I was thinking that maybe you might be willing to talk with Audrey, one of our new girls. Well, she's not really new. She's more like a girl that's worked for us for-"

  "Did D tell you that Audrey would be joining my ring or is this something you're hoping to set up?" The guy was obviously a talker, which meant we weren't going to get along to well. "Get to the point."

  "Right." He ran his fingers through his hair. "D said that she deserved a step up for going to bat with the Kallups for us last night."

  "No clue what that means, but if D wants her to join me, so be it." I grabbed my jacket and walked out onto the walkway. "Zak's probably still asleep. I'll grab him later when we're done with this."

  "You're call, my man." Edward smiled over at me, and I had to force myself not to chuckle. The guy was weird. So fucking out of place. Like cannon fodder.

  "So this chick is getting a step up by joining the drug syndicate?" I snorted and got into his souped up mustang. "Where is she now? At the whore h
ouse?"

  He got into the car and gave me a tight smile. "Yeah, and those girls deserve your respect. You don't know the shit they've been through."

  I leaned back and closed my eyes. "People don't deserve respect, Edward. They earn it. This Audrey will have to earn mine."

  *

  We didn't speak much more on the ride over, Edward obviously having come to the conclusion that we weren't going to be pillow-pals any time soon.

  I climbed out of the car and walked toward the whore house, suddenly interested in finding out if we had perks with the Madam for being a part of the Castaletta clan. I needed a pretty girl to wax my cock with a few orifices of her tight body.

  Tight? I snorted again, chuckling under my breath. A tight whore was hard to find. Like a unicorn of sorts.

  "Something funny?" Edward glanced over his shoulder, the look in his eyes letting me know that he didn't find my antics too funny.

  "Nope, but thanks for asking."

  He stopped quickly and I almost ran into the back of him. "You might want to call D to see what his thoughts were on having Audrey work for you. I don't know if he wanted you to watch after her, or if he really wanted to give her a one-up. Izzy isn't too comfortable with her, but she's jealous. She has to be."

  "This girl must be something else if Izabella Castaletta is jealous of her." I nodded toward the door. "Stop teasing me and open the door. I'll deal with the why's and shit on my own time. Let's go."

  Edward knocked twice, and a busty red-head opened the door, her dress tight and curves delicious. It was too early in the morning to suffer another hard-on, so I forced myself not to think about stripping her down and taking my time making her moan, though she very much seemed like the type of woman that might enjoy it.

  "Madam Giselle, this is Marcus Blaine. He's taking Freddy's place as the Capo for Narcotics."

  I extended my hand and smiled wickedly at the woman. "I'm the new drug pusher around here. Nice to meet you, beautiful."

 

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