Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles Book 3)

by Cora Reilly

  The moment Remo picked me up the next morning, I knew it wasn’t for a run. For one, he was too early, and second he was only in his briefs. I tore my gaze away from his body.

  “We need to record additional motivation for your uncle,” Remo explained. “Come.”

  I perched on the bed, not moving an inch. Another recording?

  When I didn’t follow his command, Remo raised his eyebrows. “Come,” he said with more force, and it took considerable effort to remain motionless. I stubbornly returned his gaze.

  He stalked toward me and bent over me. “Maybe I’m being too lenient with you,” he murmured, fingers nudging my chin up.

  I smiled then gasped when Remo jerked me to my feet and threw me over his shoulder. His big warm hand rested on my butt as he carried me, and for a few moments I stilled in shock. More because of my body’s reaction to the feel of Remo’s palm than to my head hanging down over his shoulder. I started wiggling and Remo’s squeezed my butt cheek in warning.

  I rammed my elbow into his side, but apart from a sharp exhale, Remo didn’t falter. “Let me down,” I wheezed, horrified by the way my center tightened at the feel of Remo’s hand on my backside. If he found out, I’d die on the spot.

  Remo didn’t set me down, however, until we were back in the cell. My head swam for a moment, but when my vision cleared I noticed the shackles hanging from a chain at the wall. Remo nudged me forward. “Arms up,” he ordered.

  “What?” I gasped out.

  He didn’t wait for me to comply. He grabbed my wrists and secured me. Confusion then terror shot through me. Maybe he was finally sick of torturing others when he had me to have fun with.

  Remo leaned down and I shivered. His dark eyes roamed my face, and he gave a shake of his head. “Calm down. We need to give your family a show. I’ll give that perfect throat a hickey for a few convincing photos, nothing else. Don’t get your panties in a bunch over nothing, Angel.”

  “You want to make my family believe I’m shackled up in a cell?”

  “Among other things,” he murmured. His hands reached for the hem of my chemise and tugged hard. The fabric came apart until only the seam of the neckline held it together. My nipples hardened and Remo watched silently then released a harsh breath.

  I swallowed. “These photos are fake. I’m not dangling from chains all day, and you’re not ripping my clothes off,” I muttered.

  He smiled down at me. “Would you prefer if I didn’t have to fake them, Angel?”

  I swallowed again, goose bumps rising on my skin.

  “I didn’t think so,” he said in a slightly rougher voice then carefully brushed my hair away from my throat. I held my breath when his lips were almost at my skin. “You smell so fucking sweet. Owning you one day will be the sweetest triumph of my life.”

  “You’ll never own me.”

  Remo pressed his lips to my skin. Then his tongue darted out, licking along my pulse point. He sucked and nibbled on my throat, his fingers cupping my head, tilting it to the side. My eyes fluttered shut. The sensations were foreign and mesmerizing. Remo’s mouth on my throat seemed to send shockwaves through my body, creating sensations I’d never experienced before. His warm body pressed into me, his scent flooding my nose.

  I was motionless, stunned, confused by my body’s reaction. How could my throat be such a sensitive spot of my body? How could it fill me with so much forbidden desire?

  He pulled back but didn’t straighten immediately, his face still close to my throat as he exhaled. When he finally stood, his dark eyes sent a new ripple through my body. His fingertips brushed over my tender throat, and my lips parted in a small exhale. Our eyes locked and one corner of his mouth lifted.

  “Did you like that?”

  “Of course not,” I snapped.

  “I thought you were a good liar.”

  My cheeks heated and I glared but didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure if my next lie would be any more convincing.

  “It’s okay, Angel,” Remo said in a low voice. “There are worse things than enjoying pleasure.”

  I wanted to lash out at him, but he wasn’t even the main reason for my anger. I was furious at myself, enraged by my body for its reactions.

  “I’m Danilo’s,” I said firmly.

  Remo narrowed his eyes. “Are you reminding me or yourself?”

  “I’m promised to him. I want him, not you.”

  “You can have an Underboss, someone who’s learned to do another man’s biding, or the Capo, a man who has men follow his command.”

  “I can have a monster or a man.”

  “Do you really think Danilo isn’t a monster?

  “He isn’t a monster like you.”

  Remo nodded. “He’s a lesser monster. Who’d want to settle for less?”

  “You don’t even want me, Remo. All you want is to hold my fate over my family’s head. Stop toying around.”

  He stepped back, turned around, and picked up his phone. “Look broken for a moment.”

  I glared.

  “That’s not the look we’re going for.” He waited. Then his jaw tightened, and he came toward me again, holding my chin. “I said it before, choose your battles wisely. I’m not a patient man nor a decent one.”

  He retreated and finally satisfied with my expression, he took a few photos. Guilt left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I wasn’t sure how long it would take for my family to free me, if they succeeded at all, and I had to think of self-preservation even if I hated myself for it.

  He unshackled me and I rubbed my wrists then touched my tender throat. Remo watched me. “I like seeing my mark on you.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  Later, I spent a long time staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Remo had left his marks like he’d said. They were red and purple, and made me feel a wave of shame because of how my body had reacted. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me.

  A knock drew me out of my reverie. Dragging myself away from the mirror, I went into the bedroom, where I found the youngest Falcone. He looked somewhat lost in the middle of my room.

  “I have a few books and ice cream for you. It’s one of the hottest days of the summer. I thought you could use cooling off,” he said, holding up four books and a bowl filled with ice cream.

  His gaze moved to my throat, and his brows drew together. He walked past me and put everything down on my nightstand before he shoved his hands into his pockets, looking awkward. My eyes lingered on the fresh tattoo on his forearm.

  “You are a Made Man now.”

  He glanced down then nodded slowly. “I’m a Falcone.”

  I went over to the nightstand to take a look at everything.

  “It’s chocolate chip. It’s all we got. Savio’s got a sweet tooth. The rest of us not so much.”

  “So you gave me Savio’s ice cream? He’ll love that after the soup I threw at him.”

  Adamo burst out laughing. “I wish I could have been there. He’s so full of himself. I bet his expression was hilarious.” He sobered then cleared his throat.

  I smiled. “He was shocked.”

  It was difficult to believe that Adamo was related to Remo. There was a slight resemblance, but Adamo’s hair was curly and not as dark, and his eyes were a warmer brown. But the biggest difference was their personality. I picked up the bowl and pushed a spoonful of the sugary treat into my mouth before sinking down onto the bed.

  Adamo came a bit closer and leaned against one of the posts. “I wasn’t sure what kind of books you like, so I brought a memoir, a thriller, a romance, and a fantasy book. We don’t have many new books. I don’t think I’m allowed to give you my kindle. You could use it for other stuff.”

  I smiled. “It’s okay.” Despite my intention to hate on every Falcone, it was difficult not to like Adamo. “I think I’ll pass on the thriller, though. I’ve had plenty of thrill in my life recently.”

  “I know,” Adamo said quietly. He indicated my throat. “What hap
pened there?”

  Heat shot into my cheeks, and I allowed myself another taste of the ice cream to gather my thoughts.

  Adamo watched me closely. “Did he hurt you?”

  I considered lying, making up a brutal story to drive a wedge between the brothers, but for some reason I couldn’t do it. “No. He’s hurting my family by making them believe he’s hurting me.”

  Relief flashed across Adamo’s face, and for a second it annoyed me, but then I thought of Samuel and understood.

  “You’ll be united with them soon,” he said.

  I swallowed and nodded. Adamo touched my shoulder lightly then drew back. “Sorry I should have asked before touching you.”

  I shook my head. “How did you end up being so polite and kind when you are related to Remo? Were you raised by different parents?”

  “Remo and Nino were raised by our parents, but Savio and I were mostly raised by Remo and Nino.”

  I stared. “They raised you?”

  He nodded then rubbed the back of his head as if he realized he shouldn’t have told me. “I should go.”

  I tried to imagine Remo raising a child. It blew my mind, especially since they all must have been on the run at the time.

  Night had fallen and I was reading in bed, when suddenly the lights went out. I blinked into the unexpected darkness and climbed out of bed, putting the book down on the nightstand.

  Following the trail of silvery moonlight, I glanced out of the window. The lights in the garden and every other window of the mansion that I could see were out as well. In the distance I could make out lights from other houses.

  My pulse picked up. What was happening? My eyes searched the shadows of the perimeter, and then I saw two figures running across the lawn toward the house.

  The Outfit. It had to be.

  They had come to save me.

  Euphoria pulsed through me, followed by fear. This was Remo’s territory. The Falcones knew every inch of their property and the Outfit didn’t. What if Samuel was among the attackers?

  I clung to the windowsill, immobilized by terror at the thought. Dante and Dad would have never allowed my brother to come here. He was the heir to Minneapolis. He was too important for such a risky endeavor.

  Maybe the dark gave the Outfit an advantage. Maybe it caught Remo and his brothers by surprise. Who knew how many of them were even in the mansion?

  The lock of my room turned, and I faced the door. This was my chance to run. The Outfit didn’t know where in the house I was being kept. They probably expected to find me in the basement. I needed to find them first. It would take too long for them to search every part of the mansion.

  A tall figure stepped into the room. It was difficult to make out much, and it didn’t matter who had entered. I attacked without hesitation, storming toward my opponent, hoping to ram my elbow into his stomach. Unfortunately, backlit by moonlight I was an easy target. My opponent sidestepped me then grabbed my shoulder and thrust me forward. I collided with the wall and a firm chest pressed against my back.

  “No soup today?” Savio taunted, but his voice was filled with tension. I tried shoving away from the wall, but Savio didn’t budge. “Do I have to knock you out or will you stop the fucking struggling?”

  I jerked my head back, hoping to hit his nose, but he was taller than I remembered, and the back of my head collided with his chin.

  “Fuck,” he snarled. He lodged his arms around my chest and waist like Samuel had done in jest not too long ago, and despite my thrashing, he carried me through the room and shoved me into the bathroom. “I won’t carry you into our panic room like that. Fuck it.”

  I whirled around to face him.

  “Don’t fucking move,” he growled.

  “The Outfit will kick your asses. I bet you shit your pants when the lights went out,” I hissed.

  Savio chuckled. “It was Nino who turned off the lights. We know every inch of this fucking house by heart. We don’t need lights. By the way, our surveillance camera showed a guy with blond hair. I wonder who will kill him. Remo or Nino?”

  I froze. Samuel?

  Savio closed the bathroom door. I rushed forward and hammered my fists against the wood. “Let me out! Let me out!”

  “Scream all you want,” Savio said. “Maybe it attracts an Outfit fucker so I can have some fun as well.”

  I pressed my palms against the door and slowly sank down onto my knees. Savio had to be lying. Samuel wasn’t here. If Remo or Nino got him in their hands ...

  CHAPTER 13

  REMO

  My brothers and I were watching the cage fight of Savio’s next opponent. Kiara had already fallen asleep against Nino as usual. I doubted she ever watched more than a few seconds of a fight. Violence just wasn’t in her nature.

  “I can’t wait to fight him,” Savio said when his next opponent drop-kicked the other fighter into the cage. Not bad.

  My phone lit up and so did the phones of my brothers. For a moment neither of us moved. I reached for it. An alarm had been raised. What the fuck? I opened the alert. Someone or something had touched the electric barbed wire at the top of the walls.

  Nino was faster. He held up his phone with the live recording of the affected area. Four men had put a ladder over the fence, laid a wooden board over the electric wires, and climbed over the wall.

  I stood, drawing my gun and a knife. Nino shook Kiara awake then turned to Adamo. “Take Kiara into the panic room. Shoot for the kill, no questions asked.”

  “What’s the matter?” Kiara whispered. Nino shook his head, kissed her, then pushed her toward Adamo, who grabbed her hand and tugged her along, his own gun pulled.

  “I’m going to turn off the lights on the premises,” Nino said. “We can ambush them more easily that way.”

  I nodded. “Savio, go get Serafina. I want her in the panic room as well.”

  Savio frowned. “I want to kick Outfit asses.”

  “Savio,” I snarled. I couldn’t fucking believe the Outfit really dared to attack our mansion. It wasn’t Dante’s style. Way too risky.

  With a glare, Savio ran up the stairs. Nino entered the code into his phone that was connected to our central control system and blackness fell upon us. It took my eyes a few seconds to adapt. Moonlight streamed in through the windows, and soon my brother and our surroundings became more than abstract shapes. I stepped up to Nino.

  “They’re heading toward the north wing,” he said. The cameras had night vision, so we had no trouble following the attackers’ progress. A blond head was among them, and I had a feeling I knew who it was. Samuel had come to save his twin, probably without his Capo’s orders. If they were here on Dante’s plan, they would have retreated the second the lights went out. That they still continued with it meant someone who didn’t care about his life was the leader.

  “Come on,” I said. Nino and I crept into the garden, past the pool, in the direction where the attackers were headed. “Samuel is mine,” I said quietly.

  Nino didn’t say anything, only shut down his phone so the glow of the screen wouldn’t give us away. We reached the corner of the north wing and both crouched down. I peered around and found two men, one of them blond, working on the terrace door to Savio’s domain while the other two scanned the area, guns pointed ahead. They had turned over the table and were half hidden behind it. It was massive wood. Maybe it would hold back the bullets.

  “Two alive, Samuel and another,” I ordered. Nino gave a terse nod. He’d give me a lecture later. He was pissed that we were being attacked because I’d brought Serafina here, that I’d put his wife in danger.

  Nino and I raised our guns and began firing. Whoever our opponents were, they weren’t the best shots. The first went down almost immediately. The two at the terrace door dropped behind the table and began firing as well. Eventually we ran out of bullets. The fun was about to begin. Nino pulled his knife. Clutching my own knife, I ran toward the remaining three attackers. Two went for me, one for Nino.

>   Samuel slashed his knife at me, and I blocked it with my own. The other Outfit fucker jabbed toward my stomach. I dodged that attack as well and rammed my blade into his thigh. He went down with a cry, but I grabbed him by the collar and jerked him up to block Samuel’s next attack. His knife went straight into his companion’s stomach. Before Samuel could attack again, Nino grabbed him from behind, one arm locked around his throat, the other over his arm with the knife. I dropped the Outfit bastard and jumped forward, hitting Samuel’s wrist and breaking it so he would drop the knife.

  He grunted but didn’t drop the knife. He struggled like a madman, and Nino lost his balance. Fuck.

  They both landed on the ground, Samuel on top of Nino. Grabbing my gun, I lunged at Samuel, grasped him by the throat, and hit his temple with the butt of the gun. With a groan, he went slack. Nino shoved him off himself. I touched Samuel’s throat to make sure he was alive.

  “Did you keep your opponent alive?” I asked Nino, panting.

  “Of course. I knew it was unlikely that you’d not kill at least one of them.”

  I chuckled. Nino stepped up to me. “If we torture him slowly, send pieces of him to his parents and Dante, the Outfit will do our biding. I can’t imagine they’ll risk losing both Serafina and Samuel.”

  “I don’t think he acted on Dante’s orders.”

  “Probably not. But Dante won’t abandon his nephew because he tried saving his twin.”

  I nodded. “Take the other survivor into a cell and wake him. Find out everything he knows. I’ll send Savio to join you or else he won’t stop bitching.”

  “What about Samuel?”

  “I’ll take him to another cell. Then I’ll have a word with Serafina.”

  “Are we going to deal with him together?”

  I regarded the blond man on the ground. “Yes. If he’s anything like Serafina, he’ll be fun to break.”

  SERAFINA

  The lights came back on. My eyes burned from the onslaught of brightness. I was still kneeling on the bathroom floor when Remo’s voice rang out.