For Logan (Chicago Syndicate Book 5) by Soraya Naomi

speaks, he’s in another world. “I know how it is to lose a child. The feeling of loss never goes away, and I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.”
    I gape at him. “You had a child?”
    He watches the river. “A son named Logan; that’s why I don’t like hearing that name anymore.”
    Hesitantly, I place my palm over his heart. “Tell me about him.” I’m eager to learn more about this enigmatic man, even though I shouldn’t.
    For several seconds, he’s quiet before revealing, “He was born premature. At first, I didn’t want him; I was such a boy back then. He was from a one night stand. But Nana forced me to do the right thing. His mother was an addict. She was already six months pregnant when I found her drugged up. She’d used heroin throughout the pregnancy. My son was born too early, and I had to watch his little body go through withdrawal.”
    “Oh, Logan.”
    “It was hell to see him fight to survive, to see my baby shiver because his mother couldn’t keep away from drugs. From the start, I wasn’t there for him to protect him, and he died after two weeks. He was the second person I’ve loved who died in my arms. The memory of him haunts me. You’re not alone, Rosa. We all feel lost sometimes,” he says tenderly, staring down at me.
    The pull I have toward him deepens. Logan doesn’t move a muscle, and I edge closer to his face. Then his freaking phone rings, and we both straighten.
    Logan checks the screen and leaps up – obviously in a hurry. “I’ll walk you back. Are you going home?”
    “Okay. And yes, I’m going home,” I lie and push my own sorrow aside, remembering that right now, I need to meet Mykhail, who’s in more trouble.
    We rush back to our cars. Instead of going toward Lincoln Park, I drive to the Loop’s city center. And I realize I entirely forgot to even ask why Logan was stalking me at the hospital.

CHAPTER 8
    Logan
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    A fter I watch Rosa drive away, I call and order a guard to tail her home. I shed my wet jacket inside my vehicle and crank up the heat so that my damp slacks can dry while I’m churning with clashing sensations. I’ve never spoken about my son to anyone before – ever. It felt freeing to do so. For as busy as I always am, that was the first peaceful moment I’ve experienced in years. Her heartache brought back mine, along with an unexpected need to comfort her. She’s fascinating me more every time I see her. There’s an unpredicted gracefulness to her honesty, and I like how she’s opened up to me. With any other woman, I’d push her away immediately. But with Rosa, I don’t want to. And that beguiling dimple is driving me crazy. Moreover, after she huddled against me, the irresistible contours of her body are now imprinted in my brain.
    My phone beeps, breaking my trance, so I hold it up while watching the road as well. Luca flashes across the screen.
    I answer instantly, “Yes.”
    “We have a new problem,” Luca explains. “Adriano and I have decided to move every relative to Club 7 as soon as possible because Ukrainians are retaliating. We’re going to attack all safe houses tonight. Is Rosalia with you?”
    “I just left her and told her to go home.”
    “Well, go get her again,” he tells me.
    “Are you serious? I just got a message to come back to Club 7, so I let her go. Now you’re telling me the exact opposite? There’s a guard following her, by the way.”
    “That’s why I called you. She shook off her guard.”
    “Are you fucking kidding me? Is Henry with you? Can he see where she is now?”
    “She’s going toward downtown, the Loop.”
    “You guys are killing me,” I grind out. “Fine. I’ll let you know when I have her.” I fling the device onto the passenger seat and yank on my steering wheel to make a U-turn, ignoring a honking vehicle.
    Unnerved that Rosa outsmarted her guard, I hit the gas and head toward the downtown Loop.

CHAPTER 9
    Rosalia
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    I press