Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles Book 3)

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Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles Book 3) Page 34

by Cora Reilly


  CHAPTER 31

  SERAFINA

  I was inexplicably nervous when Remo told me he wanted to announce our wedding to his brothers and Kiara the next day. We’d all gathered in the kitchen for breakfast, Nevio on Kiara’s lap and Greta on mine.

  “You have a new wedding to look forward to,” Remo said without warning.

  Every pair of eyes darted from him then to me. My cheeks flushed. I wasn’t sure what Savio and Nino thought of the situation. Adamo and Kiara liked me, but the other two ...

  “Will we be allowed to kidnap someone? Or at least spill some blood? Since you sampled the goods before, bloody sheets won’t happen after all,” Savio drawled, grinning.

  Remo reached over the table and hit him over the head. Savio only chuckled.

  “Be careful I don’t spill your blood.”

  Adamo smiled at me then rolled his eyes at Savio.

  Kiara got up, handing Nevio to Remo so she could hug me. “I’m so happy.”

  Savio and Nino definitely didn’t look unhappy, but their reaction wasn’t as enthusiastic as Kiara’s or Adamo’s, not that I had expected it to be.

  When Savio got up to take a call, I followed after him but waited until he was done before I approached him. He eyed me curiously when he noticed me. He didn’t look like a teenager anymore, especially now that he was sporting stubble.

  “Are we good?” I asked.

  “If you’re talking about the soup incident, that’s forgotten. Trust me, most people want to do worse to me, especially women, so I’ve learned not to hold grudges.” He shrugged. “And we were the ones who held you captive, so you have more reason to be pissed.”

  “True. But my family kidnapped your younger brother and almost killed your oldest, so I guess we’re even?”

  Savio’s expression tightened briefly at the mention of my family and my own stomach churned painfully. “You are part of our family now. I don’t give a fuck about the past. Just make sure you don’t break Remo’s fucking heart.”

  “Do you think that’s a possibility?” I teased.

  His dark brows drew together. “Before you, I’d have bet my balls against it. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if Remo had something resembling a heart.”

  “He loves you.”

  Savio looked away, obviously uncomfortable. “We are brothers. We’ll die for each other.”

  I smiled.

  “We should return,” Savio muttered. “I don’t want Remo to think we’re getting it on behind his back.”

  I snorted. “Sorry, Savio, nothing against you, but you don’t stand a chance.”

  Savio gave me an arrogant smile. “You like what you see, admit it.” He sauntered back into the kitchen before I could shoot something back. But for some reason his insufferable ego was almost endearing. It reminded me a bit of Samuel, which was consoling and painful at the same time.

  After my conversation with Savio, I felt better. Now I only needed to straighten out things with Nino. He and I had never really warmed up to each other, and I wasn’t sure if it was because Nino didn’t like me or if it was because of his nature.

  Remo leaned in when I sat down beside him. “Did he behave?”

  Savio rolled his eyes at his brother.

  “He tried,” I said.

  “That’s all I can hope for. Maybe they’ll try your patience as they do mine.”

  “Raising twins will teach you the patience of a saint. I doubt your brothers can test me.”

  “We’ll see,” Savio said with a chuckle. “And don’t hold your breath. Remo won’t reach sainthood anytime soon.”

  “I don’t want him to be a saint,” I said, looking at Nevio and Remo, both watching me with those impossibly dark eyes.

  After breakfast, I asked Nino if we could talk. We headed into the garden despite Remo’s suspicious expression.

  “Do you disapprove of our wedding?”

  Nino assessed me without a flicker of emotion. “No. I never considered marriage an option for Remo, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think it’s a good thing. It was for me despite my own reluctance in regards to marriage.”

  I nodded. “You never seemed to like me much.”

  “It was never a matter of dislike, Serafina. You were our captive, the enemy, and I didn’t want Remo to lose himself in his game. I thought it wouldn’t work. But I was wrong. You saved him.”

  “I couldn’t let my family kill him.”

  Nino shook his head. “That’s not what I mean.”

  I waited, watching Nino’s profile as he stared off into the distance.

  “Remo and I, we are messed up in ways that can’t be fixed, not really. For someone to accept us despite what we are, it takes a lot of forgiveness and love. Our past ... it broke certain parts of us.”

  “Remo never talks about the past.”

  Nino nodded. “He’ll tell you eventually. Give him time.”

  “We have all our lives.”

  REMO

  I held Serafina in my arms after sex, my chest pressed up to her back, my nose buried in her soft hair, relishing in her sweet scent. She traced the scars on my palm. She did it often. In the beginning it had bothered me because it was a part of me I didn’t share with anyone except for Nino.

  “I was nine,” I began then stopped because even with Nino I’d never discussed what had happened. Words had always seemed lacking to convey our shared horrors. The smell of blood filled my nose as it always did when I remembered that day. Soon the stench of burning fabric and skin joined the metallic tang.

  Serafina’s fingers on my palm had stilled. “I love you no matter what. I’ve heard of every horror you committed, and I’m still here.”

  She was. I could imagine what kinds of stories were whispered in the Outfit and they were all true. And Serafina had experienced a small part of our nature when I’d captured her, when I’d cut her. Looking at the faded white scar, I still felt a fucking twinge in my chest. I brushed aside her hair and kissed the nape of her neck. That she found it in her heart to love me despite it all, that she trusted me with our children, it seemed impossible.

  “I know what I am. But my father, he was monstrous in a different way. He enjoyed torturing the people he was meant to protect, just as much as he did his enemies, maybe even more. My mother loved and feared him equally, and she allowed him to humiliate and torture her because of it. Allowed him to do the same to us. Love made her weak.”

  Serafina gave a small shake of her head. “Real love doesn’t make you weak. Love how it’s meant to be makes you stronger. But there’s no room for fear where there’s love.”

  I tightened my hold around her. “Don’t you fear me?”

  “I used to, but not anymore and never again.”

  I rested my forehead against her hair. Very few people didn’t fear me. My brothers and maybe Kiara, and that was what I wanted, what I worked for. “Eventually she hated my father more than she loved him, and she decided to punish him in the only way she thought she could.”

  I closed my eyes, remembering that day.

  Mother came into my bedroom in her long nightgown, which was straining over her belly. She never brought us to bed or said goodnight, so I tensed when I saw her in the doorway. I’d gotten me and my brothers ready for bed while she lay on the sofa, staring at nothing.

  “Remo, my boy, can you come with me?”

  I narrowed my eyes. She sounded too caring, too loving. My boy? She sounded like a mother. She smiled and I took a hesitant step forward, more hopeful than suspicious.

  “Nino and Savio are already in my room.”

  That convinced me. I followed her toward her bedroom. For a second I considered slipping my hand in hers, but she had never held my hand like that and I was too old now. The moment I stepped inside the bedroom, she threw the door shut and closed us in. My eyes registered Nino kneeling on the floor, cradling his arm. Everything was red. Rivulets of red trailed down his arms, his wrists gaping open. His eyes locked on mine. He wasn’t making a s
ound, only crying as he bled. Blood. Everywhere. It clogged my nose.

  I frantically looked for Savio and found him motionless on the bed. A cry wedged itself into my throat until I noticed the rise and fall of his chest. Not gone.

  Mother stepped in front of me and grabbed my arm. Silver flashed before my eyes and I jerked. My hands and face burned as the blade cut me. I hit and clawed and roared, fighting her off. And then she stopped and the smell of smoke filled the room. The curtains were burning. We’d burn. We’d all burn. Nino began to hum, rocking back and forth, pale and sweaty.

  I rushed toward the window. Outside I heard the shouts of my father’s men. I ripped at the curtains and flames licked at my palms and neck and arms, snatching hungrily at my skin. I screamed as I broke the window. I helped Nino out then grabbed Savio and jumped out of the window with him in my arms. Bones broke and I burned all over. Agony, pure and overwhelming. Staring up at the window, I saw our mother’s crying desperate face amidst the smoke and flame. Crying because I’d taken her revenge from her, because I hadn’t died with my brothers as we were supposed to. I wanted her to burn, wanted her gone from our life. I wanted her dead.

  Serafina was quiet when I finished. She swallowed. “How can a mother do that to their children? I’d die for Greta and Nevio. I’d never hurt them. And if you ever hurt them, Remo, I’ll kill you. That’s a promise.”

  “I hope you will because if I hurt them, I deserve nothing less than a knife to the fucking heart.”

  Serafina turned around in my arms, her blue eyes fierce and trusting. “But you won’t ever hurt them. I know you won’t and you protect the people you love.”

  I nodded. “I won’t and nobody else will either.” I’d fucking destroy anyone who tried.

  She traced the scar over my eyebrow. “I know it’s wrong but I wish I could have killed your mother for what she did to you.”

  My chest tightened. I didn’t tell her that my mother was still very much alive. I brought Serafina’s hand up to my face and kissed her palm then the scar I had created. “I won’t allow you to be dragged down into my darkness.”

  I was going to kill my mother one day.

  One day, Nino and I would be strong enough to do it.

  “That’s not your choice alone.”

  “I rule over hundreds of men. I can be very convincing if I try.”

  She smiled a slow, fierce smile. “Believe me, I know. You convinced me to fall in love with my captor. But I can be very stubborn.”

  I pulled her closer. “That’s true. You almost brought me to my knees.”

  She raised one perfect blond eyebrow. “Almost?”

  “You had me lying in my own blood at your feet, isn’t that enough?” I asked in a low voice.

  “Don’t do that ever again.”

  “I won’t. The next blood I’ll bathe in won’t be my own.”

  Realization flickered in her eyes. She sighed then kissed me. “You swore not to kill my family.”

  “Angel, I swore not to kill them that day. The men in your family are high-ranking Outfit members. Your uncle is Dante fucking Cavallaro. If I want to win this war, I’ll have to kill him, and I will win this fucking war. Because if I don’t, Cavallaro will and that means Nevio and Greta, you, my brothers... won’t be safe. And I don’t care how many I’ll have to kill to guarantee your fucking safety. I will kill everyone who threatens the people under my protection.” I touched her throat, stroking the soft skin there. “You can’t have it all. You have to make a choice.”

  She shook her head. “I made my choice, Remo. I chose you and I’ll choose you over and over again.”

  Fuck. I didn’t deserve this woman.

  SERAFINA

  We’d been living in Las Vegas for two months now. I was starting to feel at home, more at home than I’d felt in Minneapolis since I’d given birth to my twins. I kept sending Samuel messages, but they became less frequent because of his lack of reaction. Every week I’d send him a short note telling him I was well and a photo of the twins and me. He hadn’t replied so far, but I knew he’d read them and even that was a small victory. He hadn’t blocked me. He still wanted to know how I was doing even though I was practically the enemy now. The war between the Camorra and the Outfit wouldn’t end anytime soon, even if things had calmed down for the moment. Dante was probably planning something, and I was fairly certain Nino and Remo wouldn’t ease down on the Outfit either.

  Remo’s birthday was tomorrow and even if he didn’t celebrate it, I wanted to give him something special. It was difficult to come up with a present for someone who ruled over the West Coast and could buy anything he wanted because money wasn’t an issue.

  It had taken me a long time to come up with something that held meaning and showed Remo what he meant to me. Early in the morning, after another sleepless night with the twins, I approached Nino who was swimming his usual laps in the pool. Kiara was keeping watch over the babies since they were both rather needy at the moment due to their teething.

  Nino noticed me standing beside the pool and swam toward the edge. “Is something the matter?”

  “I have a favor to ask of you.”

  Nino hoisted himself out of the water. My eyes scanned the myriad of tattoos on his upper body and thighs. Nino regarded me curiously, and I realized I’d been staring. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to gawk, but I was wondering where you’ve had your tattoos done.”

  Nino walked over to the lounge chair and picked up his towel. “Some of them I did myself. The ones in places I can’t reach I had done in a tattoo studio not too far away.”

  “You do tattoos?”

  “I can do them, yes,” he said. “Why?”

  I hesitated. “Because I want to get a tattoo. Can you do it for me?”

  “That depends what exactly you want.”

  “I want angel wings on the back of my neck,” I said, a flush spreading on my cheeks under Nino’s scrutiny. I wasn’t sure if he knew Remo’s nickname for me, but it felt like something personal I was sharing.

  “Wings, I can do ... if you have a design in mind. Can you show me where exactly you want the tattoo?”

  He came up to me and I pushed my hair to the side, baring the nape of my neck and touching the spot. “Here.”

  “It will be painful,” Nino warned.

  I sent him a look. “I gave birth to twins. I think I can handle a needle.”

  Nino inclined his head. “That is true. While I can’t assess the force of labor pain since I’ve never experienced it, I assume it’s excruciating.”

  “It is,” I said. “So you will do it?”

  “If it’s your wish, then yes. When?”

  “As soon as possible. The tattoo is Remo’s birthday present.”

  Again Nino gave me a mildly curious look. “We can do it later in the afternoon. I can set up everything in one of the guestrooms.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Thank me once it’s done and you’re happy with the outcome.” He paused. “I assume you don’t want Remo to find out for now.”

  I nodded. “If possible.”

  “It’s a secret I don’t mind keeping from my brother.”

  As promised, Nino had set up everything in a guest bedroom in his wing. I was nervous despite my best intentions not to be.

  Nino oozed calm as I stretched out on my stomach on the bed. He disinfected my neck before he touched the tattoo needle to the skin, and I winced at the first sting. I soon got used to the burning sensation. Nino moved quickly, meticulously, and I didn’t speak as he worked, not wanting to distract him. When he was finally done, I sat up and accepted the mirror Nino held out to me. He held a second mirror behind my neck.

  The outcome was more stunning than I could have ever imagined. I didn’t know it was possible to paint such intricate artwork with a needle. The feathers of the wings looked so real I expected them to flutter in the wind.

  “It’s beautiful,” I admitted.

  Nino nodded. “Remo will appre
ciate the message.”

  “You know that he calls me Angel?”

  “I overheard him saying it, yes, and you are the counterpart to his fallen angel on his back.”

  “Did you tattoo it as well?”

  “I did,” Nino murmured.

  “Why the broken, singed wings? The fallen angel is kneeling, and the tips of the feathers are crooked and burning.”

  Nino regarded me closely. “What did Remo tell you about our past?”

  “He told me your mother tried to kill you and that you almost burned to death.”

  Nino’s face tightened and he nodded. “Remo burned to save us. I never asked Remo about the details why he wanted to get the tattoo, but I think it has something to do with that day.”

  “Thank you, Nino.”

  Nino gave a small shake of his head. “No, thank you.”

  Hiding my tattoo from Remo proved difficult. I had it covered with my hair, but when I moved my head, I often had to stop myself from wincing.

  That evening, after bringing the twins to bed, Remo pulled me against him in our bedroom, his hands squeezing my butt before they moved higher. He kissed me and touched my neck. I drew back with a wince before I could stop myself. His eyes narrowed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I considered making up something, but Remo was too good at detecting lies, and his birthday was only two more hours away. “This was supposed to be your birthday present,” I said softly as I lifted my hair and turned so he could see my neck.

  Remo was quiet and I risked a look at him over my shoulder.

  Slowly he raised his eyes from my wings with a strange smile. “Wings.”

  I smiled. “Because you gave me wings.”

  He shook his head, his dark eyes softening. “Angel,” he said quietly, brushing his fingers over my tender skin. “You had wings all along. You only needed a little push to spread them and fly.”

  I turned back to face him. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t have done it on my own.”

  We kissed slowly at first, but Remo quickly deepened our kiss, and suddenly we were on the bed tugging at our clothes and stroking every inch of naked skin we could reach. I pushed Remo onto his back, smiling, and his answering smile, all desire and dominance, sent a stab of arousal through me. Leaning forward to claim his mouth for a kiss, I lowered myself on his erection, groaning at the feeling of fullness. Remo pushed up into a sitting position, bringing us chest to chest, racing heartbeat to racing heartbeat. I gasped at the shift of him inside of me, at the feel of his strength as his arms slung around my back. I rolled my hips, driving him deeply into me as we kissed.

 

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