The Camorra Chronicles Boxset (Books 1-3)

by Reilly, Cora

  She raised her head. “Please help me find my mother.”

  “Your mother?”

  “She left rehab. She can’t take care of herself without me. I have always been the one who made sure she ate and didn’t overdose. I should have never left her, but I thought she was safe in rehab.”

  “Shhh,” I said, touching her cheek. She was shaking. “I’m sure your mother is fine.”

  “No, she isn’t. She can’t deal with life.” She closed her eyes, and I knew what was coming. “She sells her body for crystal meth. And sometimes it makes her feel so dirty and horrible that she just wants to give up. I won’t be there to stop her next time that happens.”

  After all the neglect Leona had suffered, she shouldn’t be worrying about her mother like that. That she did stirred some part of me I thought was dead. “I will find her for you,” I told her. “Where was she last seen?”

  “Austin.”

  That was a bit of a problem. The Mexican cartels and local MCs were in control of Texas. Remo wanted to change it, eventually, but right now the Camorra had little power there. Remo had his contacts, of course—people who’d rather see us in power than the Mexicans. Perhaps one of them could help. But that would require that I ask Remo for help.

  “Are you sure your mother won’t come to find you?”

  Leona gave a miserable shrug. “I don’t know. She might. If she remembers where I went. She doesn’t always remember. Her brain is a mess because of all the drugs.” She closed her eyes. “If something happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “Nothing will happen to her,” I said firmly. I stroked her cheek, and she gave me a teary smile. “Thank you, Fabiano.” I lowered my head and kissed her lips. The kiss was sweet. I’d never had a fucking sweet kiss in my life.

  When I returned to the Falcone mansion, I heard the moans. I made my way into the entertainment room with the pool tables, couches, TVs, and boxing ring. Savio was bent over a naked woman sprawled out on the pool table, thrusting into her. Another woman fingered herself on the same table.

  She sat up when she spotted me then hopped off. I fucked her before, but I didn’t remember her name. She sauntered over to me, but I shook my head, narrowing my eyes at her. She froze, eyes darting with unease.

  “Where is he?” I asked.

  Remo never took these women into his bedroom.

  “Outside,” Savio muttered then kept fucking the whore.

  I strode out toward the living area and onto the terrace. Remo was there, naked, his hand fisting a woman’s hair while fucking her mouth hard. He was glaring down at her as if he’d rather slice her open than shoot his cum down her throat.

  His eyes shot up to meet mine, and he stopped thrusting but held the woman in place with his fist, his cock deep inside her mouth.

  “I need your help,” I said. He had already gathered information about Leona’s mother, so I knew he’d find her.

  Remo’s black brows drew together. He shoved the woman away, and she landed on her ass then quickly scurried off. He didn’t bother covering himself.

  “I need to find someone. Leona’s mother.”

  “You do?” he said quietly, suspicion tightening his eyes. “Why do you need to find the crack-whore?”

  If he thought Leona was becoming too important to me, which she wasn’t, he might take actions into his hands and get rid of her. “Because Leona got it in her head that the crack-whore will die without her help.”

  Remo came closer. I couldn’t tell his mood. He was ... tense. “And you are helping her because ...?”

  That was the fucking question, wasn’t it?

  “Because I want to.” It was a dangerous admittance. I had to hope that the years we’d spent like brothers protected me.

  “That got something to do with your sisters and how you were abandoned and that shit?”

  “You saved me when I needed saving.”

  “I wasn’t being heroic, Fabiano. I did it because I knew you were worthy to become what you are today.”

  “I’m not being heroic either. Will you help me?”

  Remo shook his head. “Don’t start going soft on me, Fabiano.” He didn’t sound angry or threatening.

  I relaxed my stance. “I’m not, trust me.”

  Remo ran a hand through his hair. “You are a cock-blocking asshole.”

  “You probably would have killed her before you shot your cum down her throat.”

  “I would have killed her while shooting my cum down her throat,” Remo said with a twisted grin. He grabbed his pants and pulled them on. “I assume the whore is somewhere in Texas, selling her worn-out pussy to any asshole with a few bucks?”

  “Probably.”

  “Good opportunity to piss off the Mexicans, I suppose. Perhaps I can call in a favor with the Tartarus MC.”

  I didn’t thank him. He wouldn’t appreciate it.

  CHAPTER 15

  FABIANO

  Something had Remo excited. I checked his face occasionally, knowing things that excited Remo usually involved blood and destruction.

  Soto entered the room, dragging a woman in by her arm.

  I stifled a sigh. Women weren’t in my scope of work. Remo knew I preferred to handle men, and in the last couple of years, he allowed me that leniency. I doubted he understood, nor approved of my reluctance to deal with women, but hurting them had never given me the same thrill punishing men did. Soto, on the other hand. got off on degrading the weaker sex ... in more than just the literal sense.

  Degrading. Leona’s expression when I’d asked her to give me a blow job flashed in my mind, but I banished any thought of her.

  I threw Remo a questioning look. Why was I supposed to watch him dish out punishment to some run-down crack-whore?

  Soto shoved the woman in our direction. She teetered on her too-high, red patent leather heels and eventually tumbled to her knees. She got back up, revealing ripped fishnet stockings. The tight red pleather dress hung off her emaciated body. When she lifted her face to stare fearfully at us, a jolt of recognition went through me. I masked my shock before Remo could pick up on it. He had been watching me closely in the last few days since I’d asked him for help.

  Dazed eyes, cornflower blue like Leona’s, darted from me to Remo to Soto. There was a distant resemblance. Perhaps in younger years, Leona’s mother looked even more like her daughter—before the drugs and the alcohol and the constant beatings from johns.

  She wobbled on her high heels, fingers trembling, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on her leathery skin. She needed her next fix.

  “Found her,” Remo said, an excited gleam in his eyes that told me this was about more than just helping me. More than once, I’d regretted my decision of approaching him. Leona was no longer one among many to him. She was someone with a name and a face, someone to be wary of.

  “Had to hand over a few thousand in cash to the president of the fucking MC for this worthless whore because she worked his streets. I wonder what part of her is supposed to be worth five thousand dollars. Just look at her.”

  I didn’t have to. She wasn’t worth that much money.

  Five thousand dollars.

  Fuck.

  Tartarus had ripped us off. And Remo let them. Not good.

  “What do you say, whore? Are you worth that much money?” His voice was dangerously pleasant. People who didn’t know him might have mistaken it for kindness.

  She quickly shook her head, obviously knowing how to handle dangerous men. With a past like hers, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. “Wh-where am I?”

  “Las Vegas, my property, and now you are too.”

  She nodded slowly, dazed, then her expression shifted. “My daughter Leona is here.”

  Shut the fuck up. I didn’t want Leona’s name spoken in this room. I needed to figure out a way to get my girl out of Remo’s head.

  “That she is,” Remo said, eyes slithering over to me, his lips tightening. “Now back to that five thousand dollar
s you owe me.”

  Damn it. It would have been easy for me to pay the money, but I wasn’t out of my mind.

  She smiled crookedly. “I earn good money. I know what men want.”

  Remo’s dark eyes traveled over her body. “I doubt any man would want to get his cock dirty like that.”

  She didn’t even flinch at his words. She’d heard worse. Whatever pride she once had was gone. She had no honor. She had nothing. That was why Leona clung to her virginity like it was her only salvation. And even knowing that, I still wanted to take it from her.

  From his pocket, Remo pulled out a small see-through bag with two meth cubes and let it dangle from his fingertips. Leona’s mother sucked in her breath, a sharp, raspy sound. Her body became taut, eyes keen and eager. For him it was nothing. Our storage was full of meth and heroin and ecstasy, full of money too.

  She took a step toward him, licking her cracked lips.

  “You want this, hmm?” he asked in a low voice. She gave a jerky nod.

  “What would you do to get it?”

  “Anything,” she said quickly. “I’ll suck your cock and you can have my ass. No condom.”

  As if Remo would settle for someone like her. He was Las Vegas. He could have anyone. Remo’s mouth tightened with disgust. “There isn’t enough bleach in the world to clean you.”

  “Then perhaps him?” she nodded toward me.

  Remo’s eyes turned on me. “I think he prefers a younger version of you. Less used up.”

  Leona wasn’t used up in any way. She was pure and innocent. She was mine.

  Leona’s mother looked at Soto. Even he didn’t look remotely close to being excited about the prospect of fucking her. He usually wasn’t choosy over where he put his ugly cock, but that woman was too wasted even for him.

  “I’m good, Boss,” he said, waving her off like a bothersome fly.

  Remo closed his fingers around the bag. “Perhaps you have something else you can offer us. Or perhaps someone else?” He tilted his head with a dangerous smile. “Perhaps that daughter of yours will take it up her ass in your stead. She might even be worth five thousand dollars.”

  My fingers twitched for my gun, but I stilled. This was crazy. I’d sworn loyalty to Remo and the Camorra. This wasn’t about the woman in front of us. Remo was testing me. That he felt the need to do so unsettled me. Leona was a distraction. She wasn’t a threat to the Camorra in any way.

  “She’s not like that. Do not touch her,” Leona’s mother said fiercely. I regarded her anew. Little was left of her. She had no pride, no honor, nothing, but despite her need for the drugs in Remo’s hands, the part of her that cared for her daughter—no matter how little was left of it—won out. That was more than one could say about Leona’s father.

  Remo threw the bag on the ground. “You’re not worth my time.”

  She scrambled forward and took the bag, cradling it like a child. “You are my property as long you owe me money. Hit the streets. You’re too used up, even for our whorehouses.” She wasn’t listening. She was rummaging in her purse. Eventually her hand emerged with a syringe crusted with old blood. Of course, she didn’t snort or smoke the shit. Shooting it into a vein boosted its stimulating effects.

  Remo’s face contorted with rage. “Not here!”

  She reared back. I moved over to her, gripped her upper arm, and hoisted her to her feet. I dragged her out, Remo’s eyes burning through my back as I did. “Five thousand plus interest, Fabiano. Tell Leona too.”

  I shoved Leona’s mother onto the backseat of my Mercedes then got behind the wheel. “Don’t even think about shooting up in my car,” I snarled, angry at her, at Leona, and most of all myself.

  Leona’s mother cowered against the seat. She didn’t move the entire ride, except for her eyes, which watched me like I was about to pounce on her. She was already broken. I sighed and left her in the car as I set out toward Roger’s Arena.

  The moment Leona saw me, she dropped everything and rushed toward me.

  “I found her. She’s in my car.”

  Leona’s eyes widened, and she hugged me. Fucking hugged me in the middle of Roger’s Arena, under the eyes of dozens of customers. I gripped her arms and pushed her away.

  LEONA

  My arms fell, realizing what I’d done. Fabiano looked pissed. And I got it. Not only did he have to keep up appearances, but people weren’t supposed to know about us.

  “How is she?” I asked as I followed him outside. I could barely keep up with his pace. He seemed desperate to get away.

  He yanked open the door and Mom stumbled out. She looked a mess, as if she’d been found with a john and didn’t have time to clean herself properly. I’d seen her worse off, so I moved forward and wrapped my arms around her. She hugged me back briefly then dropped her arms, trembling. When I saw the syringe and plastic bag in her left hand, I knew why. “I need ...” she whispered.

  I nodded. I knew she needed a hit. I stepped back and she fell to her knees, nervously fumbling with the plastic bag.

  Fabiano stood close behind me. I could feel his presence like a disapproving shadow. The smell of melting crystal meth filled my nose as Mom held the spoon over her lighter. She let out a small moan when the needle finally pierced her bruised skin.

  I cast a glance over my shoulder. Fabiano’s expression was stone. Hard, unrelenting, cold. “Thank you.”

  Blue eyes narrowed a fraction. “Five thousand, that’s what Remo had to pay for her. Until she can pay it off, she belongs to the Camorra.”

  “That’s too much money. She’ll never be able to pay it off. She was barely able to pay for meth and food before.”

  He looked away and headed for the driver’s side. “She’s sold her body for years, she’ll have to keep doing it. We’ll send her the johns who don’t have enough money for the whorehouses and she’ll give them what they want.”

  I stared at his back because he wouldn’t show me his face. “But those men are always the worst. They like to beat and humiliate women.”

  He stopped with his hand on the car door. His shoulders sagged. His eyes were cold as a glacial lake as he turned his head. “I can’t do anything. I did too much already. You don’t know how much I’m risking for you. Your mother is lost, Leona. She has been for a long time. Save yourself and let her handle her shit alone.”

  “I can’t,” I told him. He got into the car and drove off without another word.

  You don’t know how much I’m risking for you.

  “Why? Why are you risking so much,” I wanted to ask, but he was gone. And he wouldn’t reply anyway.

  Mom curled into herself, a blissful expression on her face. It wouldn’t last long. Her breathing quickened and she rolled on her back, chest heaving, eyes wide, pupils dilated.

  “Who’s that?” Cheryl’s voice made me jump. She appeared beside me.

  “My mother,” I admitted.

  Cheryl didn’t say anything as we both watched my mother get lost in her drug haze. Over the years it got worse. Meth destroyed her piece by piece. “She can’t stay here. Roger will lose his shit if he sees a junky in his parking lot.”

  “I know,” I said. “But I don’t have a car, and there’s no way a cab will give us a ride with her like that.”

  Cheryl sighed. “I hate to say it, chick, but you are more trouble than you look.” She pulled car keys from her back pocket then pointed at an old, rusty Toyota. “Get in. I’ll give you a quick ride. Mel can handle the bar.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  She waved me off and helped me lead my mother to her car, positioning her on the backseat. She also helped me get my mother into the apartment, even as my father raged around us. I had paid for food and had given him more than enough money in the last few weeks. He would have to deal with Mom sleeping on the couch for now.

  “You will end up just like her!” he shouted as he stormed out. Cheryl was already gone.

  I perched on the edge of the couch beside my mother,
who was mumbling in her drug-induced daze. Her eyes twitched around as she trembled with nervous energy. Mom being in Vegas meant more trouble for me. I didn’t want her to work the streets again, but I didn’t have nearly enough money to pay off her debt to the Camorra.

  My mobile beeped. I removed it from my backpack.

  It was a message from Fabiano.

  Do you need me to pick you up from work tonight?

  Even though he was pissed about the situation, he honored his promise to protect me. I smiled down at my phone.

  No. I’m home with my mother. Thank you.

  “That look,” Mom croaked, startling me. “Who is he?”

  “No one. There’s no one, Mom. Sleep.”

  She rocked back and forth, the drugs beckoning to her. “I hope he’s good to you.”

  “He’s good to me,” I said. Good for me ... that was a different matter.

  “Does he love you like you him?”

  My throat closed. “Sleep, Mom.” I knew her body was torn between the stimulating effect of the meth and utter exhaustion from lack of sleep and food. And finally her eyes closed but she didn’t lie down. Soon she’d go looking for johns.

  Love broke people. It had broken Mom before, and the drugs did the rest.

  I didn’t love Fabiano. I ... I was falling for him. Falling deeper and deeper every day. Into his darkness and what lay beneath it.

  Fabiano didn’t want love. He didn’t believe in it.

  I couldn’t love him.

  CHAPTER 16

  LEONA

  My stomach fluttered with nerves, as if I was the one who had to fight in a cage. I glanced at the changing room doors, waiting for Fabiano to emerge. This was his second fight that I got to watch, but this time I was worried. Worried for Fabiano, worried he’d get hurt ... or worse. In the last few weeks of me working in Roger’s Arena, I’d seen how brutal cage fighting could be. Several men had died in the hospital afterward. What if something happened to Fabiano?

  I hadn’t seen him since he’d dropped off my mother in the parking lot yesterday. I was in the storage area when he came in, and it drove me crazy that I couldn’t tell him again how much I appreciated his help. Mom had been sleeping when I left, and I made her promise me she wouldn’t leave the apartment alone. We’d figure out a way to get the money she owed later, until then my savings would have to do. My father wasn’t going to help, that much was clear.