Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles Book 2)

by Cora Reilly

  Dropping my arms, I nodded.

  His long fingers untangled the adornments from my curls quickly. Then he stepped back again.

  “Thank you,” I managed to say.

  I forced myself toward the bed and lay down flat on my back, my fingers splayed out against the smooth fabric of the blankets.

  Nino regarded me coolly. He stepped up to the bed. Tall and muscled and deadly cold, he didn’t look like this affected him in any way. He reached for his belt and unbuckled it. Terror clogged my throat. I looked away, fighting weak tears. From the corner of my eye, I saw him remove his boxers, and then he climbed on the bed, naked and determined. I trembled. I couldn’t stop myself.

  His hand touched my waist then slid up slowly. The touch was light. I jerked away. “Don’t touch me.”

  His eyes were hard and cold as he looked down at me. “You know I can’t. I won’t give your family any cause to take Las Vegas as weak.” It wasn’t said in a cruel way. He stated facts.

  “I know,” I whispered. “Just don’t touch me. Just do what you must.” If there was any leading up to what was to come, I wouldn’t be able to contain my terror.

  “If I don’t prepare you, it will be very painful.” He sounded like he didn’t care either way. “It would be better if we got you to relax.”

  That wasn’t going to happen. “Just do it,” I said. Pain was okay. I could deal with it.

  He regarded me for a couple of moments more. Then he pulled back his hand from my ribcage and sat up. His fingers hooked under the hem of my panties, and he slid them down. A low whimper wedged itself in my throat.

  He moved one knee between my legs, parting them, his gray eyes on me. He was moving slowly, and I wished he wouldn’t, wished he would stop looking at me. Panic began to claw its way out of my chest, and I tried to force it back. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block what was happening. When he knelt between my legs completely, I seized up with complete terror.

  “If you don’t relax, you will tear.”

  My eyes shot open, and a few tears slid out. He supported himself on one arm, hovering over me. Tall and strong. No. No. No. No.

  “Try to relax.” He was so clinical about it. His gaze followed the trail my tears left on my cheeks and throat. They didn’t affect him. I tried to loosen up, but it was completely impossible. My muscles were frozen with fear. He gave a small shake of his head, almost disapproving. “This isn’t working,” he said. “I will have to use a lot of force to get past your tensed up muscles and all the way into you.”

  I could taste the bitterness of bile in my throat as memories from long ago slithered through my mind.

  And something in me just … broke. Something dark and scared and deeply buried. There was no way for me to hold it in.

  A bone-shattering sob ripped from my throat, and it hurt because of the memories that it brought up. I pressed my palms against my face hard then curled my hands to fists and pressed my knuckles against my closed eyes. Wanting the memories out of my head, I tried to claw them out like I’d clawed at my uncle many years ago, but just like in the past, there was no escaping.

  I couldn’t breathe. Could. Not. Breathe.

  And I wanted to die. I needed the hurt gone. I didn’t want to live through that horror again, and I didn’t want new nightmares.

  Strong hands curled around my wrists, pulling, and I resisted, struggling, but they were relentless and kept pulling until my hands came away from my face. My eyes snapped open, my vision blurry with tears. And through the fog, two intense gray eyes slowly came into focus, and then they were all I saw, all I could see, all that mattered.

  So calm. Clinical. Cold.

  Just what I needed. It was a cool flood against this terror-filled inferno. Blissfully emotionless. I stared into his eyes, stared for a long time, and he let me, until I brought the first breath of oxygen into my lungs.

  I could breathe again, and the face of my husband came into focus, his narrowed eyes all too knowing.

  Lowering my gaze to his chin, I tugged at his hold on my wrists. He released me, and I placed my hands into my lap. My naked lap. He, too, was completely naked, kneeling across from me. He must have pulled me into a sitting position some time during my panic attack.

  This was it. He knew something was utterly wrong with me. I pulled my legs against my chest, swallowing.

  I wished he’d kill me now. I’d often wished for death after my uncle had broken me.

  “What happened to you?” His voice was emotionless.

  I considered lying, but I had lied for too long. And I had a feeling he knew. “I was thirteen,” I said, but then I couldn’t say more. I began shaking again, and he put a hand on my shoulder. I didn’t flinch this time. The touch was too clinical to elicit any terror.

  “Someone raped you.”

  The word made me feel small and dirty and worthless. I gave a nod.

  “Your father?”

  I shook my head. He was already dead by then, and he would have never done that. He knew I would have been ruined. He hit me and screamed at me, but he never touched me like that. Maybe he would have later on if Luca hadn’t killed him.

  “Someone from your extended family, then. Girls like you are protected. It must have been someone you were related to.”

  I nodded.

  “Who was it?” he asked firmly. “Your uncle who raised you?”

  I licked my lips. “My other uncle.”

  “For how long?”

  I lifted four fingers.

  “Four years?”

  I shook my head.

  “Four times?”

  Only four nights, yet every day since.

  Ever since.

  “I dream about it every night,” I choked out. That admittance felt good. I was doomed anyway. I had sealed my fate. Nothing mattered anymore.

  I didn’t dare look up to see his disgust, his anger at having been given someone tainted. “You know,” I said quietly. “A kind man would spare me the humiliation of having to face my family, living in shame, and just kill me.”

  “A kind man might,” he said in a low voice.

  I raised my eyes, resigned.

  A terrifying smile played across Nino’s face. It didn’t reach his eyes. “But I will find the man who did this to you and make him feel the same terror you did that night and pain unlike anything he thought possible. And eventually, when he has been begging for it for a long time and when he’s given up hope, I’ll grant him death.”

  My breath caught in my throat. I stared. I could do nothing else. He was calm about it, but in the depth of his eyes there was something dark and dangerous. Not directed at me. And I didn’t dare hope that this could really be the truth.

  “And what will you do to me? I’m not what was promised. I’m not a virgin.”

  He looked at me almost as if I’d said something stupid. “I don’t care if you are a virgin. It’s a small piece of flesh that’s completely useless. But I’m aware of the importance it holds in the minds of so many people, even yours.”

  “Then why are you furious if it’s not because someone stole what you wanted for yourself?”

  “Because someone stole what you weren’t willing to give,” he murmured.

  I looked away because stupid tears gathered in my eyes. I didn’t understand his reaction or him for that matter. I’d heard the rumors about Vegas, about how they dealt with women who didn’t pay their debts or displeased Remo Falcone in some other way.

  I gestured at the sheets. “It’s tradition. My family expects to see blood.” I swallowed. “If you take me with force, will I bleed?”

  He nodded, his expression impassive. “It’s been years for you and you only had sex a few times, so if I use enough force, you will most definitely bleed. Your vaginal muscles are very tense from fear, and you will tear when I force myself into you all the way.”

  My stomach constricted. He sounded like a doctor explaining the physical effects of his actions. My lips fought to form the w
ords that rationality wanted to say. “Then do it so my family and the Famiglia get the blood they expect.”

  He leaned forward, his beautiful, cold face so close I could see the dark specks in his gray eyes. “They will get blood, don’t worry.”

  I nodded and moved to lay back, but he stood from the bed and put on his briefs. Confusion filled me. “I thought you would …?”

  He got into his pants and buckled his belt. He didn’t say anything until he was dressed in his black wedding suit again and had strapped on his knives. “I will find the man who raped you and slaughter him like a pig on these sheets. Do you think that will be enough blood for your family?”

  I choked, sliding off the bed, clutching the blankets against my nakedness. “That means war. Luca will kill us all.”

  Nino didn’t say anything, but he moved closer. I tensed but didn’t back off. He raised his hand, and I flinched. I hadn’t been hit in years, not since my father—and later Uncle Durant—but my body still expected it.

  “I won’t hit you.” I opened my eyes and stared at his white shirt. He put a single finger under my chin and lifted my gaze. His cold face peered down at me, almost curiously as if I was something he needed to understand. “Do you want your uncle to live?”

  “No,” I admitted.

  And that sealed all our fates.

  NINO

  I dropped my hand and walked over to the desk to pick up my mobile then raised it to my ear.

  Remo picked up after the second ring. “Shouldn’t you be busy?”

  “I need you to come over.”

  “I assume it’s not because you want me to help you fuck your wife.”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  Silence. “Two minutes. This better be good. I chose a waitress to fuck.”

  He hung up, and as promised he knocked two minutes later. I opened the door, and his dark eyes went to something past me. I stepped back and he entered. Kiara backed away, the sheets still clutched to her naked body, her face tearstained.

  Remo turned to me with raised eyebrows. “That was quick. You realize you can’t give her back once you’ve opened her, right?”

  “I’m going to kill someone. And I wanted to give you fair warning.”

  His twisted grin slipped right off his face. Remo tilted his head. “So you aren’t asking for my permission.”

  “No, not this time. I will kill that man and nothing will stop me.”

  Remo looked at Kiara, and she flushed, trying to make herself even smaller. Her shoulders rounded in, her arms wrapping the sheets tighter around her body.

  “Someone got her before you could? You want to cancel everything?”

  “Someone raped her when she was a child.” I paused, regarding my wife, who now stared at the ground, shaking. “And she will come to Las Vegas with me.”

  She raised her widened eyes.

  “Her rapist is among the guests. He’s the husband of Luca’s Aunt Criminella, Underboss of Pittsburgh,” I said. Remo needed to know the extent of our problems.

  “I know.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You knew?”

  He shrugged then cracked his neck, stretching out his hands. “Then I better sharpen my knives and load my guns.”

  “We could prevent war if we gave Luca a warning.”

  “Ask him for permission to deal out revenge on someone who attacked your property?” he snarled. “He gave us less than was promised and you think we owe him anything?”

  “Not ask but warn him,” I said. I turned to Kiara, who had pressed herself against the wall at Remo’s outburst. “Get dressed.”

  Her gaze flickered between Remo and the bathroom door he stood beside.

  Remo understood her expression before I did. He walked over to me, away from the bathroom door. Kiara grabbed her bag and quickly rushed into the bathroom.

  I raised my eyebrows at him.

  “She was scared to walk past me,” Remo said with a shrug.

  “She’s fearful.”

  “Aren’t they all?” He pulled out his phone. “I’m going to call Fabiano. Savio better stay with Adamo before the kid gets himself killed.”

  “Come on,” I said and led him out into the corridor. It was deserted.

  Fabiano arrived a few minutes later, his eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you killed the girl.”

  I raised one eyebrow. “I’m not prone to emotional outbursts like Remo.”

  “Perhaps you faked your emotions too well,” Fabiano muttered.

  “I didn’t. Kiara is alive and well, considering her circumstances.”

  Fabiano threw a glance at Remo. “Nino wants to spill the blood of her uncle. Fucked her when she was a kid,” my brother said.

  Fabiano grimaced in what I assumed was disgust. “Killing off Luca’s family won’t go over well.”

  “Luca would kill him if he weren’t family. I saw the look he gave the old fucker. And the guy isn’t even Luca’s blood. He’s married to Luca’s aunt.”

  “It’s one of his men. He will insist on dishing out punishment himself.”

  “No,” I said. “He punished Aria’s cousin for leering at her on Outfit territory. He will understand that I need to kill his uncle myself.”

  Fabiano considered my words. “Maybe. But it’s not a good start to this union.” He regarded me. “But I see that you will do it no matter what I say, so I will go looking for Luca and attempt damage control. Maybe he hasn’t left for his own mansion yet.” Fabiano paused. “Where will you take the asshole?”

  “I will tend to him on my wedding sheets,” I said, and my mouth pulled into a smile.

  Fabiano sighed then turned on his heel and went in search of the Famiglia Capo.

  “Ready to pick up your date for the night?” Remo said with a laugh.

  I tried to figure out what he meant with it.

  “I assume you are going to fuck him with your knife.” I stared down at the blade in my holster.

  I nodded slowly. “I’m going to take my time breaking him, body and mind.”

  “I hope you let me in on the fun.”

  I inclined my head. It would be unreasonable to prevent Remo from participating. I knew every spot on a body that brought agony, but Remo knew how to break them with mind games. Both were more effective if applied in combination.

  “Let’s go,” I said, and Remo let me lead the way because this was my crusade.

  Keeping to the shadows, we found Durant in the gardens with his wife, laughing loudly and clutching a wine glass in his hand. “I hope he’s not drunk,” Remo muttered. “Don’t want him to miss the night of his life.”

  “We will get him sober,” I said quietly as I regarded him. He was a tall man, wide shoulders but had a paunch that told me it had been a while since he’d really fought. Not that it mattered.

  Remo sneered. “Fucking a kid. That gives even me the creeps. I hope he isn’t one of those that passes out quickly.”

  “We will make sure he stays awake.” I wanted him to enjoy every second of his last hours.

  Fabiano stood over to the side, beside the buffet, with Luca. It wasn’t difficult to read the Capo’s emotions. He was furious.

  “Come on,” I said to Remo. “Let’s grab Durant.”

  He didn’t need any further encouragement. I gripped my bowie knife, fingers curling around the smooth wood handle, as Remo and I moved along the fringes of the party. Most people still around were shit-faced. The moment Durant spotted me and my brother, his eyes widened. He dropped the glass and turned, fleeing the party and leaving his wife standing there with a dumbfounded expression.

  Remo sighed. “Why do they always think they can escape?”

  I began jogging and spotted Durant stumbling down the slope leading to the water. Maybe he hoped he could reach one of the boats and escape. When I reached a good spot, I stopped and flung my knife. The Damascus blade gleamed magnificently in the moonlight before it impaled itself in Durant’s calf. His ear-piercing scream was a good start to t
he night. No cries of pleasure tonight. Only agony.

  Durant fell to his knees, clutching at his calf.

  “Nice,” Remo acknowledged as he came to a stop beside me. We walked down the hill slowly as Durant pushed to his feet and tried to hobble toward the nearest boat, but he couldn’t put any pressure on his injured leg. He should have pulled the knife out; it either would have helped him move faster or it would have made him bleed out quickly. Both would have been better outcomes than what awaited him under Remo’s and my hands.

  We reached him and Remo walked around to face him. “Why are you leaving? The fun is about to start.”

  Durant took a step back. I kicked away his legs so he fell to his knees. I reached for the knife and twisted it. He screamed, his eyes flying up to meet mine. “Whatever she said, the little whore lied.”

  “How do you know this is about Kiara?” Remo asked quietly. “Perhaps I can’t stand your face. Nino and I have killed for less.”

  Durant’s gaze flitted between my brother and me, his breathing picking up. Terror started to fill his veins like poison. I knew the telltale signs. This was only the beginning.

  I leaned down, my mouth curling. “You will admit to it soon enough, and before the sun rises, you will beg Kiara for forgiveness, trust me.”

  Twisting the knife again, I left it in his leg. I gave Remo a sign, and we hoisted Durant to his feet, gripping his arms.

  As we dragged him back toward the house, Luca and Fabiano stepped in our way. Luca regarded his uncle without any emotion. “This is my territory, and Durant is part of the Famiglia.”

  I met his gaze. “That’s true, but I will be the one to tear him apart. Or are you telling me you would have acted differently if someone had dishonored Aria before her wedding night?”

  Luca smirked. “I would have killed everyone who would have stopped me from dishing out punishment.” Then his expression hardened. “I need to see Kiara before I can allow you to begin…” his eyes darted to the knife in Durant’s calf “…or to continue.”

  “Luca,” Durant began, but Remo jerked his arm, causing the words to die in a scream.

  “We will continue, Luca, but of course you can have a quick word with my wife if she agrees.”