Page 11 of Control (Dark Syndicate #1)

Her eyes narrow again. “Lucky guess. Dani, seriously, what’s going on? You’ve been weird for weeks.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m fine, Addie. I promise.”

She leans back, crossing her arms. “You’re the worst liar, you know that?”

I don’t respond. I can’t.

The waitress brings our drinks, and thankfully, the conversation shifts to safer topics.

We talk about books Adeline is reading, a new coffee shop she wants to try, and the ridiculous amount of snow predicted for next week.

For a moment, I let myself sink into normalcy and pretend I’m just another twenty-something having coffee with her best friend.

However, I can’t help but still think about him.

As we’re finishing up, Adeline checks her phone. “Oh! Before I forget, there’s this art exhibit downtown that I think you’d love. It’s some local artist with a focus on family and grief. Thought it might inspire you.”

My chest tightens. Family and grief. How fitting.

“I’ll check it out,” I say, my voice carefully neutral.

“Good. And don’t make excuses this time. You need to get out more, Dani. Life’s too short to stay stuck.”

Life’s too short. If only she knew how true that was.

When we leave the café, the cold air bites harder than before, seeping through my coat. Adeline gives me a quick hug before heading to her car and waving as she drives off. I watch until her taillights disappear, the knot in my chest tightening.

I turn to head home, but a prickling sensation stops me. It’s the kind that tells me I’m being watched. I glance over my shoulder. There’s nothing but the usual bustle of city life. People, cars, flickering neon signs.

Still, the feeling doesn’t fade.

I start walking faster, my heartbeat picking up. A shadow flickers in the corner of my eye, and I whip around. A man stands across the street, his stare fixed on me. He’s tall, dressed in a dark coat, and his hands are shoved into his pockets.

One of Remo’s men?

I don’t wait around to find out.

I dart down the sidewalk, weaving through clusters of people. My boots slap against the pavement, the cold seeping through the thin leather. The man across the street doesn’t follow, but the knot of unease in my chest tightens.

Every step I take feels like it echoes louder than it should, and every glance over my shoulder brings no reassurance. The man doesn’t follow, but his stillness across the street unnerves me more than if he had.

Gripping my phone tightly, I duck into a nearby alley. The city’s noise fades here, replaced by the faint hum of a neon sign and the occasional clink of glass bottles. I consider calling Adeline, but what could I even say?

Hey, I think someone’s watching me. And it probably has something to do with the brooding, sinfully hot man I live with now.

Oh, did I mention I’m his prisoner? And a few days ago, I came on his fingers while we watched a couple fuck in a basement below a club where he murdered a man in cold blood. You know, just your usual mafia drama.

Before I can decide, a familiar voice cuts through the silence. “Relax, Dans. If anyone were trying to snatch you, they’d be a lot less obvious about it.”

I spin around to find Livia leaning against the brick wall with her arms crossed. She’s almost swallowed by her leather jacket, but her sharp green eyes practically glow under the neon light. A smirk tugs at her lips as she steps forward.

“You scared me,” I snap, trying to slow my racing heart. “What are you even doing here?”

“Babysitting, apparently.” She pulls her phone from her pocket and waves it like a badge. “Remo sent me. Said you might get ‘distracted.’”

I grit my teeth. “Distracted? I was just grabbing coffee with a friend, not plotting my great escape.”

Her smirk widens. “Sure, and I’m not secretly working on hacking the Vatican’s security system for fun.”

I can’t tell if she’s joking, but I let it slide. “Did he send you because of that guy across the street?”

Livia glances toward the alley entrance and shrugs. “What guy?”

I turn to see that no one is there. What? He was just standing there.

I cross my arms, trying to push the unease back down my throat. It’s not like I’ve never been watched before—hell, it’s practically my life at this point—but something about the way that guy stood there, so still and quiet, doesn’t sit right with me.

Livia doesn’t seem worried, but she looks over at me for a second, thoughtful.

“You okay?” she asks, a little softer now.

I shake my head, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I’m fine.”

Livia doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t press. Instead, she pulls the car into a parking spot in front of the building. “Let’s get inside before you freeze to death.” She gives me a half-smile, though it doesn’t reach her eyes—like she’s trying to make sure I don’t fall apart on her.

I nod and step off the sidewalk. Then, I open the car door and slide into the passenger seat.

We drive in silence for a while, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional swipe of the wipers across the windshield as the rain starts coming down.

. My mind drifts back to the man. He wasn’t one of Remo’s men. I would’ve recognized him. But that doesn’t make him any less dangerous. And something about his eyes…it was like he knew exactly who I was.

But I don’t tell Livia any of this. I don’t want her to think I’m paranoid.

I decide to distract myself with other pressing things. “You’ve known Remo for some time now, right? Does he trust anyone? Or is paranoia just his default setting?”

She considers this, her expression turning thoughtful. “Trust isn’t exactly his strong suit. But he’s not completely heartless. He’s…complicated.”

“Complicated?” I scoff. “That’s an understatement.”

Livia snorts. “Tell me about it. He’s been brooding more than usual lately. Which is saying something, considering ‘brooding’ is basically his resting state.”

I hesitate, the urge to pry tugging away at me. “Why do you think that is?”

She narrows her eyes at me like she’s trying to decide how much to say. “I don’t know. And trust me, I’ve been around him long enough to notice when something’s off. This—whatever’s going on with him—is different. He’s quieter. More…I don’t know. Intense.”

“That’s reassuring,” I mutter..

Livia leans closer, lowering her voice. “Look, I’ve seen him take down entire operations without breaking a sweat. He doesn’t let people in, not easily. If he’s acting weird, it’s probably because of you.”

I blink, caught off guard. “Me?”

She shrugs. “You’re not exactly easy to ignore. Stubborn, defiant, and mouthy…you’ve got a knack for getting under his skin. Not many people do.”

I don’t know how to respond, so I don’t. Instead, I focus on the blur of shops and buildings as we drive past, trying to let her words roll off me.

“Anyway,” she says, sitting up straighter, “look at it this way. You’ve had a taste of freedom for a whole day. That’s more than Remo would usually allow. I’d rather not deal with his bad mood if you’re late.”

I roll my eyes, muttering under my breath, “As if that’s my fault.” I take my eyes off the road and glance at her. “How did you end up working for him?”

Her lips twitch like she’s debating whether to give me the real answer. “Let’s just say he found me at the right time. I was good at getting into places I wasn’t supposed to, and he needed someone with my…skill set.”

“And you trust him?”

Livia’s grip tightens on the wheel for a split second, her expression unreadable before she answers, “Trust might be a stretch. But loyalty? Yeah, I can do loyalty.”

Her answer doesn’t surprise me, but it doesn’t ease the knot in my stomach either.

We pull up in front of the sleek building that looms over the street as though it owns it, the penthouse where Remo’s world spins around its own rules. The city lights reflect off the polished windows, and the weight of the evening sky settles heavily in the air.

Livia slows to a stop before putting the car into park. She looks at me for a beat before nodding toward the entrance. “Home sweet home, Dans. Buckle up.”

I don’t reply. As I slide out of the car and head toward the building, her words echo in my mind. Loyalty, not trust. In Remo’s world, maybe that’s all anyone can afford to give.