Page 10 of Control (Dark Syndicate #1)

Daniela

The walls of this room mock me. Every gilded edge, every silk-draped surface, whispers of wealth so cold that it burns. It’s not my home. It’s a cage dressed up in luxury, and the locked windows don’t let me forget it.

Adeline’s call echoes in my head. Her voice had been bright, normal. Like life hadn’t turned upside down. “Let’s grab a coffee,” she said. Like I can just walk out of here and stroll into a café.

I shove my feet into sneakers and yank open the door. The two guards are there, the same as always. Luca and Stefano—stone-faced statues in expensive suits. I try not to look at their holsters.

“I’m heading out,” I say, keeping my tone clipped and casual. “Don’t wait up.”

Luca doesn’t blink. “You’ll need Remo’s permission.”

“Excuse me?” My voice rises before I can stop it. “I’m not a kid asking to stay out past curfew. I’m going to see a friend. Now, move.”

They don’t move. Stefano’s lips twitch—almost a smile, but not quite. “Rules are rules.”

Frustration boils over. “Rules? What, you think this is normal? Keeping someone locked up like this? You don’t get to tell me where I can or can’t go.”

“It’s not us.” Luca’s voice is calm and flat. “Talk to him.”

I glare at them for a beat longer, then spin on my heel. Fine. I’ll talk to him. I’ll march into his office, throw the door open, and demand answers. But the thought of facing Remo makes my stomach churn. His presence is like a storm—calm one moment, devastating the next.

Still, anger pushes me forward. My sneakers squeak against the polished wood floors as I head toward his office. When I get closer, I slow down. Voices drift through the slightly open door.

“…needs to be handled before he causes more problems,” a man says. His voice is deep, gravelly.

“He’s back in New York,” another replies. “The wedding is our chance. It’s clean. Simple.”

“Simple.” That voice belongs to Remo. It’s low, almost lazy, but there’s steel under it. He could be discussing the weather or deciding someone’s fate. Probably the latter.

I shouldn’t be here, but I can’t make myself leave. I edge closer, peering through the crack. Remo sits at his desk, his posture relaxed, one hand resting on a stack of papers. Two men stand before him, one holding a photograph. Remo takes it, glances at it, then tucks it into his jacket.

“It’ll be done,” he says. “Make sure there’s no blowback.”

My pulse hammers as I step back. Unfortunately for me, my sneakers scuff against the floor, and the sound is deafening.

“Do you have a habit of eavesdropping, or is it just with me?”

I freeze. His voice reverberates through the air, sharp and precise. Slowly, I step into the doorway. Remo’s eyes lock onto mine, cold and unreadable, and the men with him glance at me, their expressions impassive.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” I say, lifting my chin. “I was looking for you.”

“Congratulations. You found me.” He leans back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. “What do you want?”

“I want to leave. Adeline called, and I’m meeting her for coffee.”

He studies me like I’m a puzzle that’s missing pieces. “And you thought you’d just…stroll out?”

I grit my teeth. “I didn’t think I needed to ask for permission to have a life.”

His lips twitch, not quite a smile. “You’re bold. I’ll give you that. But no, you don’t leave without my say-so.”

I take a step closer, fists clenched. “Why? What’s the point of keeping me here? You’ve already made your threats. I get it. I’m not going to the cops.”

Remo tilts his head. “Trust isn’t about threats, Daniela. It’s about control. And you don’t have any.”

“That’s not trust. That’s paranoia.”

“Call it whatever you want.” He stands, the movement fluid, predatory. “I know about the call, by the way.”

The room tilts. “What?”

“Your phone is tapped.” He says it so casually, like he’s commenting on the weather.

“You’re spying on me now? Jesus, Remo, do you even hear yourself?” My voice shakes, but I don’t care. “This isn’t normal. It’s sick.”

His eyes narrow, and for a moment, something dangerous flickers there. Then it’s gone. “Normal doesn’t apply here. Not to you. Not to me.”

I swallow hard, my voice rough. “At least call off your watchdogs on me today. If I show up with too many bodyguards to see Adeline, she’ll know something’s up.”

He studies me for a long beat like he’s deciding whether to entertain the request. I can see the cogs turning behind those piercing eyes, but he doesn’t answer right away.

His mouth opens slightly like he has something else to say, but then he closes it again, the moment hanging in the air between us.

We both know what we’re thinking anyway. Since that night at the club, neither of us has been ready to speak about it. The raw, unspoken weight of what almost happened still lingers, and maybe it’s better left buried.

Remo shifts his posture, a slight change in his stance that signals his decision. “You can go,” he finally says. “But remember this: if you try anything funny, if you even think about running—” He steps closer, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “I’ll know. And you’ll regret it.”

****

The door to Remo’s office slams shut behind me, and the sound echoes down the hall like a judge’s gavel. My fists curl at my sides, my nails biting into my palms. I breathe through clenched teeth, steadying myself.

He gets under my skin so easily. It’s maddening.

The guards glance at me when I approach the door to the outside, their expressions blank as ever. One of them, the taller one with a buzz cut, steps aside wordlessly. I push the door open, letting the cool winter air slap me in the face.

Good. At least they won’t stop me now.

Adeline is already waiting when I step into the café we usually visit.

Her blonde hair is pulled into a messy bun, and a scarf is wound loosely around her neck.

She’s scrolling through her phone, her lips twitching with some silent amusement.

Probably some ridiculous meme. The sight brings a pang of nostalgia I can’t afford to entertain right now.

“Hey, Dani!” Adeline’s face lights up when she spots me. She waves, drawing a few glances from nearby tables. Subtlety has never been her strong suit.

She’s always had this infectious energy that makes everything feel just a little less heavy.

She lives in Bay Ridge, a neighborhood in Brooklyn with a cozy, small-town vibe that’s a far cry from the chaotic, darker parts of New York I’m stuck in. She teaches kindergarten, and as far as I can tell, she’s genuinely happy doing it.

I can’t remember exactly how we met. It was probably something dumb like I was sitting by myself at some coffee shop, sketching, lost in my usual miserable thoughts, and she just walked up and started talking.

She wasn’t bothered by my grumpy silence.

I can’t even say how it happened, but somehow, she became this constant in my life.

Even when everything around me seemed to crumble, Adeline didn’t change.

She’d laugh at my sarcasm, crack jokes about my tendency to brood, and when I was at my worst, she’d drag me out of my cave just to remind me that life wasn’t all black-and-white.

I never really understood her optimism. Maybe because it was so…

foreign. In a life where every smile felt like it was hiding something, hers always seemed real, even when it shouldn’t have been.

Maybe that’s why we worked, why we became friends.

She didn’t try to fix me, didn’t try to pull me out of my darkness.

She just let me be, and that was enough.

Even though we couldn’t be more opposite.

She finds joy in the little things. Things like kids’ drawings on the fridge, coffee breaks with coworkers, and buying plants that never seem to die in her apartment.

Whereas I’m this walking disaster, constantly dragging myself through a mess of my own making.

I can’t even imagine a life where I didn’t meet her, where she wasn’t there to balance me out, no matter how different we were.

I force a smile and slide into the chair across from her. “Hey.”

Her eyes narrow the way they always do when she’s studying me. “You look…off.”

“Off?” I grab the menu and flip it open like I care about the options.

“Yeah, off. Like you’ve been holding in a sneeze for ten minutes. What’s going on?”

I huff a laugh, more out of habit than humor. “Nothing’s going on. I’m just tired.”

She raises a brow. “Tired doesn’t usually come with a side of brooding intensity, Dani. Spill.”

I hesitate. Lying to Adeline feels like carving pieces out of myself, but what choice do I have? “I’ve just got a lot on my plate. Work stuff, life stuff. You know how it is.”

Her lips press into a line, but she doesn’t push. “Alright. But you’re telling me the truth eventually. I’ll drag it out of you if I have to.”

“I’m sure you will.” I crack a grin, the most real one I can muster.

When the waitress comes by, we order. Adeline chatters about her week while I nod along, my responses automatic. I should be paying more attention, but my mind keeps drifting back to Remo—his warning, his infuriating calm, and the way he always seems to know everything before I do.

I can’t shake the memory of his fingers inside me, moving with a knowing touch, and the taste of his lips when he kissed me, as if he was savoring every moment before he unleashed his fullest desire. The words he spoke linger in my mind, igniting a warm ache deep within me.

I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk straight. Until all you can think about is my cock. And when you can’t take any more, I’m going to come inside you and fill you up with my cum. Mark you as mine. Would you like that, princess?

“You’re not listening,” Adeline says suddenly, cutting through my fog.

“I am!” I reply a little too quickly, but I know my voice lacks conviction.

“Okay, then what did I just say?”

I blink, scrambling. “Uh, something about your boss being an idiot?”