Page 19 of Deceptive Desires (The Syndicate #2)

Roman

Once I situate Cecilia in her seat, I beeline to Drew, pissed he cut our dance session short.

“What is it? I said no distractions tonight. I’m off duty,” I spit out.

“Mafia’s here. Only a few low-level guys, but I figured you’d want to know,” he explains.

“Fuck. Fine. Lead me to them. They can’t be here tonight.”

We haven’t had any issues with the Mafia in years, but I’m not willing to risk anything with Cecilia here.

Although we have territory lines, the Mafia, Irish Mob, and Cartels don’t have the same rigidity as we do with the Bratva.

We won’t typically kick them out or torture them for coming into one of our clubs. But not tonight.

He leads me to a group of guys in their twenties. They’re all pretty drunk. Their Italian heritage is obvious, and their tattoos are clearly Mafia. But they’re low-level.

“You need to leave,” Drew tells them.

“Why?” one of the older ones counters.

“No Mafia here tonight,” Drew explains monotone.

“Come on, man. It’s our friend’s birthday. We’re not causing any trouble,” he whines.

“Sorry, guys. Not tonight. It’s time for you to leave.” Drew’s voice is stern, leaving no room for argument.

“Or what?” one of the other guys, a younger one, counters. The rest of his crew whoops and cheers.

“You won’t fucking like finding out,” I tell them, stepping forward, done with the pleasantries.

“And who the fuck are you?” the younger spits out, snorting.

“I’m Roman Montclair. Now get the fuck out of my club before I lose my patience. Lorenzo will have to come collect your bodies,” I growl, name dropping their Capo to convey know how serious I am.

They all raise their hands in peace. “Sorry, man. We didn’t realize. We don’t want any trouble. We’ll go now,” the first one says.

He rounds up the others, and Drew leads them out.

Without another word, I make my way back to my sunshine.

As I near their table, my heart pounds at the sight I take in.

Gracie is yelling at Leo from one side of Cecilia, holding onto her arm, keeping her in her chair.

Leo is yelling back, pulling at Cecilia, trying to get her in his arms.

And Cecilia, my beautiful Cecilia, is passed out at the table.

I run.

I push my way through the crowd, desperate to get to her.

“Stand back, bitch. I’m bringing her home,” Leo spits out, yanking at my Cecilia.

“Let her go. Get the fuck away from us,” Gracie yells back, not letting go of her best friend.

“Or what? You think you can stop me?” he seethes.

“Maybe not. But I sure as fuck will,” I growl into his ear. “Now fucking drop her.”

Leo turns around to face me, letting go of Cecilia. She starts to tilt, muttering incoherently, and Gracie catches her.

Good, she’s not passed out… yet.

“What’s going on?” I ask, trapping Leo against the table with my body.

“Nothing. Mind your fucking busi–” Leo starts. He doesn’t get far into the sentence, because my hands shoots out and grabs his neck, cutting off his air supply.

“I’m not asking you.” I get in his face. “Gracie, what happened?” I ask again, even though I can deduce it from the scene. But I pray I’m wrong.

“Leo called Cecilia a whore for dancing with you,” she starts off strong, sounding like she’s tattling.

I tighten my grip on his neck. “He left to get us drinks to cool off. He returned and gave Cecilia a water. Minutes later, she was dizzy and could barely sit up. Stuttering and mumbling. Leo was trying to get her to come home with him. I wouldn’t let him. ”

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

This motherfucker drugged Cecilia. He drugged my sunshine.

“She… drank… too… much… Helping… her…” he gasps out.

“She hasn’t had anything to drink. What the fuck did you slip her?” I growl.

He sputters, turning red. I loosen my grip so he can answer.

“Nothing,” he rasps.

I throw him against the table and punch his face. I feel the satisfying crunch of bone, breaking his nose. Blood spurts, and I ask him again. “What the fuck did you give her? Don’t make me ask you again.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” he spits out. “You won’t get away with this.”

“Try me. What the fuck did you drug her with?” I reel back to hit him again but freeze when he glances over my shoulder with hope in his eyes.

“Help me! He’s crazy! He’s killing me!”

I turn and see Drew along with a few other security personnel behind him.

“Need help, boss?” Drew asks, cracking his knuckles.

“He drugged my girl. I need to know with what,” I say without breaking eye contact with Leo. I punch him again.

“Boss? What the fuck? Who the fuck are you?” he asks in disbelief.

“I’m Roman Montclair. Now tell me what you slipped in her drink if you want to walk out of here alive,” I grit out.

He pales, and his eyes widen. Interesting. He knows my name.

“It was just a little roofie. GHB. She’ll be fine,” he defends himself.

I roar and hit him again. Twice more.

Then I throw the filth at Drew.

“Take him to a warehouse. Text me which one. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

I turn away, knowing if I look at him again, I’ll kill him. I face the girls and note that Cecilia’s almost completely passed out and didn’t witness any of the confrontation.

I look at Gracie, scared she’ll be terrified of me. That she won’t want me helping her with Cecilia. Which isn’t going to fucking happen. Nothing’s standing in my way of helping her. But it’d be a lot easier if Gracie accepts me.

But instead of facing me with horror, Gracie holds respect for me in her eyes.

“I can’t carry her. I need your help,” she mutters, strained from holding Cecilia’s weight for this long.

I gently lift Cecilia into my arms, cradling her to my chest. I start walking, careful of the fragile, precious goods in my arms.

“Come with me,” I instruct.

Gracie follows without question.

We walk down a hallway in the back and into the main office. I don’t use it often, but it’s here for when we need it. I head to the adjoining bathroom and sit down on the floor with Cecilia in my lap.

I stick my fingers down her throat until she gags. Thankfully, her reflex is weak, and she starts heaving quickly. I lean her over the toilet as she empties her stomach. I hold her hair and rub her back.

She starts to gain consciousness during the process and tears fall from her eyes. She begs me to stop, and it breaks my heart, but I can’t.

“I’m sorry, sunshine. We have to get it out of you,” I beg her to understand.

Gracie grabs a washcloth, runs it under cool water, and places it on Cecilia’s neck. She then looks away but stays in the bathroom. Clearly the situation is hurting her, but she won’t abandon her friend. I find myself respecting this woman more and more with each passing moment.

I repeat the process until nothing comes up at all. By the end, she’s crying and more conscious.

Gracie appears with a glass of water and brings it to her lips.

“Rinse, sunshine. Then you can swallow,” I instruct her.

She does as she’s told.

When that’s over, I cradle her back in my arms and carry her to the employee exit. Gracie follows wordlessly.

When we reach my SUV, I open the back door and place Cecilia gently on the bench seat. Gracie climbs in after her.

I get behind the wheel and start driving towards their place.

“Where are you taking us?” Gracie finally speaks up.

“To your apartment. I figured waking up at home would be the best thing for her.”

“Thank you. For everything. I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if you weren’t there,” she mumbles.

“No. If I was there, if I never left her side, he never would’ve gotten the chance to drug her,” I grit out, anger consuming me.

Anger at Leo.

Anger at the Mafia men.

Anger at myself.

We continue the drive in silence, stewing in the what ifs.

When we get to the apartment, I carry Cecilia up the stairs and into the bathroom. Gracie either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that I know the way.

I place Cecilia on the floor and look at her. She has vomit in her hair, what I’m hoping isn’t toilet water on her clothes, and blood on her body. I know the blood is from my hands. From attacking Leo. It’s his blood. But seeing it on her, seeing her bloody, has me filled with fear and anger.

She can never get hurt. I have to protect her.

“Do you need help showering her, or should I step out?” I offer regretfully. I want to stay. I want to help clean her up. But I know she’d be more comfortable if Gracie does it. And I don’t want to take advantage of her in the state she’s in.

“I can handle it. Just grab some clothes for her to change into,” Gracie responds.

I turn on the water and wait until it’s warm enough before leaving.

I sort through her drawers and find a soft t-shirt, panties, and a pair of pajama pants. I see a pile of clothes on her bed and wonder what the hell happened in here. Half her closet is on her bed.

I hand the pajamas to Gracie through the cracked bathroom door and go back to her bedroom. I start hanging up her clothes and clearing the bed.

Once it’s clean, I turn down her bed and hunt down some Ibuprofen and a large water bottle. I can tell it’s Cecilia’s because of the light colors.

I knock on the bathroom door, “Gracie, how is everything in there?”

“You can come in. She’s dressed, teeth brushed, and ready for bed,” she responds.

I open the door and find a sleeping Cecilia resting on an exhausted Gracie. I gently lift her into my arms and carry her to bed.

I wake her up and get her to take the pain relievers. Gracie sits on the edge of the bed, telling an incoherent Cecilia that she’ll be okay.

Gracie and I shut her door, leaving her to sleep and go to the living room.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

“I’ll be fine,” she says determinedly. She straightens her back and stares into my eyes, letting me see the fierce truth. This woman has been through some hell. She’ll be okay.

“I need to go, but I’ll be back before she wakes up. You should get some sleep,” I tell her.

“You’ll handle him?” she asks.

“He won’t be a problem anymore,” I promise her cooly.

She nods, “Good. Make him pay.”

“Don’t worry about him. He’s out of your lives forever.”

“Thank you.” She doesn’t look fearful of me. She looks relieved and vengeful.

“Lock the door behind me,” I tell her on my way out.

She doesn’t question how I’ll get back in. She just nods and follows me to the door.

I leave to carry out my promise.

He’s going to pay.