The Camorra Chronicles Boxset (Books 1-3)

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The Camorra Chronicles Boxset (Books 1-3) Page 42

by Reilly, Cora


  After that, I busied myself by putting away my clothes into the drawers that Nino must have cleared for me in the walk-in closet. When I was done, I hesitated, not sure how to proceed. I was hungry and I couldn’t very well stay in the bedroom all day, but the mansion didn’t feel like home yet. I wasn’t sure if it ever would, so walking around on my own felt like I was intruding.

  Eventually, my hunger drove me outside. It was quiet in this part of the house, which wasn’t surprising considering its size. Nino was probably in the main wing with his brothers. I wasn’t really sad that he didn’t wake me when he left the bedroom this morning. I was used to being alone most of the time and preferred solitude over the company of people.

  I moved downstairs into the smaller living area in Nino’s wing and froze on the last step. There, beside the French windows, stood a beautiful Steinway D piano. I couldn’t do anything but stare. I took the last step down then approached the instrument almost fearfully. How did Nino manage to get it over here so quickly? But this was Las Vegas and he was a Falcone, so he probably had his ways. The more important question was why did he buy this for me?

  Of course I told him I loved to play, but it wasn’t as if he needed to put in an effort to win me over. We were already married, and I was bound to him forever. If anyone was required to please someone, then it was me as the wife. And so far, I’d failed miserably.

  I sank down on the black leather bench, letting my fingers glide reverently over the smooth black and white keys, and then I began to play, but to my surprise it wasn’t the song I’d been working on these past few months. It was something new entirely, a melody I hadn’t even known was in me, but as my fingers moved over the keys, it took shape. Slowly, the knot around my chest loosened, and I realized the notes were my emotions shaped into music.

  The sound was haunted and frightful, the notes chasing each other, quick and erratic then slowing almost abruptly. Tumult and fear, resignation and defiance, and beneath it all an underlying pain I could not shake.

  I couldn’t stop playing, even as I began the melody anew, reformed it, but the emotion remained, and it filled the room and me. For a moment, I felt at home, felt almost at peace.

  “I see you discovered your piano,” Nino drawled, and my fingers dug into the keys, making the beautiful instrument cry out almost angrily.

  CHAPTER 11

  KIARA

  My eyes darted to my left, where Nino stood, watching me with mild curiosity. He was dressed in black pants and a tight black T-shirt that exposed his tattooed arms. His hair was pulled back in a very short ponytail.

  I flushed and quickly stood. “I’m sorry. I should have asked before I started to play. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to.”

  Nino frowned and moved closer and didn’t stop despite my growing tension. He leaned against the piano, close but still more than an arm’s length away. His eyes scanned me from head to toe, and I forced myself to stand still, allowing him his appraisal. It was his privilege. Finally, his eyes met mine. “Why wouldn’t you be allowed to play the piano?” he asked. “I got it for you and it’s meant to be played.”

  “Thank you,” I said quietly. “You didn’t have to do this. It’s too expensive.”

  Nino’s mouth twisted in dark amusement. “I didn’t, but I wanted to, and money isn’t an issue, Kiara. We have more than we could ever spend.”

  I glanced back down at the keys and brushed them with my fingertips.

  “Play that song again,” Nino said.

  “I only started working on it today. It’s not ready yet.” I didn’t mention that I’d never been happy with a song I’d created and avoided playing in front of others if possible. Music was emotional for me. Laying myself bare to other people like that had never seemed wise.

  “Play it,” Nino ordered.

  My eyes flew up to his face. His expression was commanding but not cruel. I sank back down on the bench, taking a deep breath, and rested my fingers against the first notes.

  I closed my eyes because with Nino’s intense gaze on me, I couldn’t focus. Then I began to play, and the melody came to life, flowed around me, evolved as I added a few more notes.

  The last note had long died off when I dared to open my eyes. Nino regarded me, and heat rose into my cheeks. “It’s not good, I told you, but—”

  Nino leaned in, and I held my breath. “Don’t put yourself down. You are a Falcone now.”

  I blinked and gave a nod. I’d been put down all my life by others and by myself. Giulia had said the same thing to me before, but none of her words had ever had an effect. Upon looking into Nino’s beautifully cold face and seeing the dominance in his eyes, it seemed impossible not to take his words to heart.

  When it became clear that Nino expected an answer, I said, “Okay.”

  He gave a small shake of his head, but I wasn’t sure what it meant. He straightened. “I have to leave to meet with the owner of our fight club, Roger’s Arena, now. You can spend the day as you please. You are free to walk around the premises and the mansion, but as I said, don’t go into Remo’s wing.” Remo probably had a poor woman locked into a dungeon there. I shivered.

  “I will here be alone?” I asked.

  Nino shook his head. “Savio will stay with you.”

  Relief flooded me when I realized the Camorra Capo wasn’t on babysitting duty, even if the younger Falcone made me nervous as well. After the embarrassing incident yesterday, I really wasn’t looking forward to meeting either Falcone brother.

  “If you want to leave the house, tell Savio and he will drive you wherever you want to go. Tomorrow, I will have time to show you around Vegas.” He waited for a response, so I nodded.

  He returned a curt nod before he left.

  I stared at his back, dumbfounded.

  For a moment, I wavered between sitting back down at the piano and going to find something to eat, but then my rumbling stomach won that struggle. I headed down the connecting corridor into the main part of the house. It was still quiet, but when I moved closer to the kitchen, I could hear a male voice. When I stopped in front of the door, I recognized Savio’s voice. “I’m stuck here babysitting. I’ll come over when Adamo takes over when he gets out of school.”

  I was about to turn around and return to Nino’s wing despite my hunger, when the door swung open. I tried to stumble back but still managed to get hit in the shoulder, landing on my butt. I gasped from the sharp twinge then flushed with embarrassment when I found Savio staring down at me with narrowed eyes.

  From my position on the floor, he looked even taller, which didn’t help with my anxiety.

  “Did you eavesdrop? Never heard about privacy?” he muttered. He stuffed his phone into his pocket then bent over me, and I flinched. He froze, his eyes widening a moment before he controlled his expression. He was almost as good as Nino. “Jeez, I wasn’t going to grope you, woman.” He held out his hand. “Stop the cowering and take my hand.”

  I did, and he pulled me to my feet then released me. I quickly straightened my dress, flustered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, and I’m sorry that you have to play babysitter when you have obviously better things to do.”

  Savio shrugged. “Nino asked me to do it, and you are defenseless.”

  Defenseless. He sounded almost disgusted as he said it. I wasn’t sure how to react, so I said, “I was going to make breakfast. Do you want something too?”

  Savio snorted. “Good luck. There’s no food in the fridge, only beer. Nino is pretty much the only one who remembers to buy food, and he’s been busy these last few days.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  Savio sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. It was shorter than Nino’s and a bit darker. “Let’s grab something to eat. We can do a quick detour so I can check in with one of our soldiers who’s having trouble with vandals.”

  My eyes widened. Like Nino, Savio told me about business. It was mostly frowned upon to involve women in any kind of business, to ev
en mention it around them, in the Famiglia.

  “We don’t have to go out,” he said, assessing my expression. “But then you’ll have to go without food.”

  “That’s not why I was shocked. I’m not used to hearing about business.”

  Savio shrugged. “It’s what my brothers and I are doing all day, so it’s a constant topic around here. Except for Adamo, whose main activity is sulking.”

  I laughed. Savio looked at me like he was trying to figure me out.

  “You can go outside and wait in the driveway. I’ll grab a few more guns and then we can head out.”

  A few more guns? He already had a holster strapped around his chest, which held a gun and a knife, but it wasn’t my place to comment, so I headed outside. It was warm and sunny. Several cars were parked in the driveway; one of them was a Ferrari in a metallic copper tone, which glowed in the sunlight. My eyes were drawn toward what must have been a marble fountain once. Now the broken down remains of a statue lay in a heap in its middle.

  Savio jogged outside. He tossed on a black leather jacket, probably to hide his guns, and nodded toward the metallic Ferrari. Of course. I followed him toward the car and got in. I jumped when the engine roared to life like a beast risen from Tartarus. Savio steered the car down the long driveway and through the gate. “Why is the fountain broken?”

  “It was our father’s pride and joy. He had it made in Italy and shipped here. When my brothers and I returned, after we came into power, Remo smashed it with a sledgehammer.”

  I could picture it in my mind, Remo wielding that sledgehammer like a madman. “You didn’t try to stop him?”

  “There’s no stopping Remo when he’s murderous,” Savio said as he steered us down a wide road with casinos and smaller hotels on either side. “We hated our father. We were busy burning the painting of him and our mother.”

  His voice held a tension, and I decided to change the topic. “You aren’t trying to blend in, are you?” I asked, motioning to his car.

  Savio rolled his eyes. “With a name like Falcone and with this tattoo...” he moved his arm so I got a peek at his forearm tattooed with an eye and blade “...there’s no way in hell I could blend in around here. And why would I want to? My brothers and I have brought honor back to the Camorra. I’m proud of who I am, of what I am, why would I want to hide it?”

  I nodded. It was a foreign concept for me. Most of my life I’d tried to blend in, tried to hide.

  “It’s a bit strange that you are my babysitter even though I’m two years older than you, don’t you think?”

  Savio’s expression hardened. “Age doesn’t matter. I have been a Camorrista for close to four years. I have fought in the cage. I have killed and tortured. I am capable of defending you and myself, and I have no qualms doing it.”

  “Four years?” I asked incredulously. “But that means you were only thirteen back then.”

  He nodded. “I wanted to become a Camorrista, and my brothers needed me.”

  “What about Adamo? Has he been inducted yet?”

  Savio’s mouth thinned. “No. Remo thinks it’s better to wait until he is fourteen so he has some time to pull his head out of his ass.”

  Savio pulled the car up at the curb in front of a café then got out without another word. I quickly got out as well and immediately realized that the Savio in the mansion or in the car wasn’t the Savio that the outside world got to see. His expression had hardened, not as cruel as Remo’s and not as cold as Nino’s but enough to send a shiver down my back. He no longer appeared like a teenager. He looked a man.

  He surprised me when stepped closer. I gave him a curious look. “I’m supposed to protect you. I’m not going to be the one who gets his ass handed to him by Nino because something happened to you.”

  I doubted Nino would care. Maybe he’d be displeased because his possession had been damaged or maybe even worried that it would endanger the truce with the Famiglia. “I thought Las Vegas was safe.”

  “It is,” Savio said, his eyes scanning the sidewalk and street. The few passersby looked like tourists, even though we weren’t near the Strip. “But since the Outfit attacked, we are more careful.”

  It made sense. Being attacked in your own territory must have been a hard blow. Savio motioned for me to follow him toward the café, and I tried to stay close to him. He didn’t make me quite as nervous as Remo, which was a relief. He held the door open for me, and I stepped in. The barista behind the counter gave me a smile, but it dropped the second Savio entered.

  He strode toward the counter. After we’d ordered coffee to go and a few donuts, we moved over to wait for our order. The barista’s hands shook so much she kept spilling the milk. Her eyes kept flitting toward Savio and occasionally me. I couldn’t help but feel bad.

  “Is everyone around here this scared of you and your brothers?” I asked when we were on our way back to the car. I took a sip from my coffee, watching Savio.

  “Not everyone, no. Her brother owes us money. He got a visit from Fabiano recently. That’s why she’s like that.”

  The moment I buckled up, Savio pulled the car away from the curb. He awkwardly steered the car with his cup wedged between his legs because there was no cup holder.

  I took a sip then lifted the box with the donuts. “Is eating in your car off limits?”

  “No. Hand me one with lemon glaze. The cleaning people can get rid of the crumbs.”

  I handed him one of the donuts and took a plain one out for myself. I took a bite, and we settled into silence. I glanced at him again.

  “What?” he muttered.

  “You changed when we were outside.”

  Savio narrowed his gaze at me. “We Falcones need to display a certain image outside. Even Adamo knows it. You should remember it too.”

  “Me?” I asked, surprised.

  “You are a Falcone now, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.” A Falcone. It would take a long time to come to terms with the fact that I was a part of the most notorious family in the US.

  Savio parked. “I have to handle some business, but you have to come along.”

  I quickly emptied my coffee then followed Savio. We were in front of an Italian restaurant called Capri. “As I said, this restaurant belongs to one of our soldiers. His son is a friend and also a soldier.”

  This time, when we stepped inside the gloomy restaurant, the reactions were quite different. No fear or hands shaking. The restaurant hadn’t opened yet. Two guys around Savio’s age and two older men sat around a table and were arguing about something. They all looked our way the moment we entered. They nodded at Savio, but then their eyes were glued to me. Uncomfortable under their scrutiny, I had to fight the urge to lower my gaze, remembering Savio’s words.

  He walked toward the men, and I followed a couple of steps behind, not sure if I was supposed to stay at his side when he’d soon have to discuss business. The younger guys got up. Both hugged Savio and clapped his shoulder. Then the tall, bulky one let out a low whistle. “Nice catch, Savio. New girl for the week?”

  Savio glanced toward me, and I could feel my cheeks heat. When he turned back to the men, his smile had thinned. “She’s Nino’s wife.”

  An awkward silence followed, and the bulky guy flushed, which seemed to amuse Savio if the twitch of his mouth was any indication. One of the older men shot to his feet and hit the teenage boy over the back of the head. “Apologize now, Diego!”

  “I didn’t mean any disrespect,” Diego mumbled.

  “Good thing Nino isn’t here,” Savio said with a shrug. “He’s a possessive bastard.”

  Was Nino? Or was that part of the outward appearance the Falcones wanted to present. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know Nino.

  “Why don’t you join us? I’m sure our cook can prepare a quick meal for you?” the older man said. He and Diego shared the same sharp facial features, father and son I assumed.

  Savio tilted his head in agreement and sank down
on one of the chairs then pushed back the one beside him for me to sit. I sat down, glad that the men were now purposely trying to avoid looking at me, though that, too, felt weird.

  “Go into the kitchen and tell them we have guests, Diego,” the father said.

  When Diego returned, he didn’t look quite so shaken anymore and eventually got over his initial shock. “So you are the Vice’s cousin?”

  Now their full attention was back on me.

  “I am, but Luca has many cousins.”

  “How is he?” Diego asked.

  His father gave him a look, and Savio rolled his eyes.

  “He’s a strong Capo. Merciless and well respected.”

  “Nobody’s stronger than our Capo,” Diego said, and all the men nodded. Savio’s eyes lit up with pride.

  I nodded because it was expected of me. I wasn’t sure who was stronger, Remo or Luca. Remo had the advantage of having three brothers at his side, even if Adamo wasn’t inducted yet.

  “I’m here to discuss the attack on your other restaurant, Daniele. Do you have any clues as to who did it?”

  “I don’t know. A few years back I would have said the Bratva, but since you chased them out of the city, that seems unlikely.”

  “Maybe they’re thinking about returning,” Diego suggested.

  “Let them try,” Savio said fiercely. “We will slaughter them all.”

 

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