by Cora Reilly
Diego paced the room with a deep frown. Dad had his arm wrapped around Mom’s shoulder who was crying, which didn’t necessarily mean something horrible had happened.
Dad and Diego exchanged a look, deciding if this was something I was allowed to know about. Toni would give me the dirty details later anyway, but recently it annoyed me that my family still treated me like I couldn’t handle anything.
“The Camorra is under red alert because of an incident in the Falcone mansion,” Dad said.
“What incident?”
Diego took out his phone, checking his messages before he shoved it back into his pants. “Nera Falcone tried to kill her sons.”
“Again?” I gasped. “What happened? Did someone get hurt?” The stories of Mother Falcone’s craziness still made the rounds. When Benedetto had still been in power, people hadn’t dared discuss the events, but since Remo had taken over, that had changed.
“She had the support of a few traitors,” Dad said carefully. “We don’t know details yet, but Remo called for a meeting of every Camorrista in Vegas. Diego and I’ll have to leave soon.”
Diego nodded. “I’ll grab a jacket.”
I quickly followed after him when he left the kitchen. “How’s Savio?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t written yet.”
I grabbed his arm. “Diego, are you stupid? You should ask him if he’s all right. He’s your friend.”
Diego shook me off. “If I do, that sounds as if I think he’s weak. Gemma, he’s my friend, but he’s also a Falcone. He and his brothers rule over the Camorra. He won’t tell me even if he isn’t all right. And I’m going to see them at the meeting in Roger’s Arena anyway.”
I didn’t get it. If Savio’s mother had tried to kill him and his brothers, that must have shaken him up, Falcone or not.
“Stay out of Savio’s business, Gemma. I warn you.”
The moment Dad and Diego had left for their meeting, I rushed to my room and grabbed my phone from my sock drawer. Even though Savio and I didn’t train together anymore, unless I accompanied Diego for his work out—which still happened occasionally—I still had Savio’s number. Maybe Diego couldn’t text his friend for some stupid testosterone codex, but I was a girl.
Before doubts could overcome me, I quickly typed in a message and send it off.
Hey Savio,
I hope you are all right. I’m so sorry about what happened. If you need anything at all or want someone to talk to, I am here.
Kitty
In the beginning his nickname had bothered me, but it had grown on me, because Savio was the only one who called me by that name. When I didn’t get a reply after a few minutes, worry filled me. Maybe I’d crossed a line? Savio and I weren’t really friends. We were… I wasn’t even sure.
My phone beeped, almost giving me a heart attack. Stomach tightening, I checked Savio’s reply.
Thanks, Kitty. The only thing I need is that delicious almond cake your Nonna bakes. ;-)
I knew he was joking, but giddy about his reply, I headed downstairs. Mom had left to go grocery shopping. Whenever something horrible happened, she cooked up a storm as if delicious food could cancel out all the darkness in the world. Nonna was asleep on the sofa, the rosary still clutched in her hand. I went over to her and covered her with a blanket. She must have taken the news the hardest, after all, Dad’s brother was killed by traitors shortly after Remo came into power.
I slipped inside the kitchen and grabbed everything for the cake. I’d baked it countless times with Nonna, so I knew what to do by heart. Toni sent me a message while I waited for the cake to bake.
Please be at your phone! Did you hear what went on with the Falcones?
I called her. She probably knew the details nobody bothered to tell me. “Spill.”
“Adamo helped his mother escape the mental hospital she was in and then she ran away, and forced Savio, Nino, and Remo to cut their wrists!”
I swallowed. “What?”
“I couldn’t believe it either. But Dad told me. They’re all wearing bandages over their wrists to cover the cut. Can you believe it? If I ever complain about my mother again, remind me of Nera Falcone.” The official version was that Toni’s mom had died in a car accident when in truth she’d run off with a Frenchman.
I tried to imagine how Savio must be feeling now. His own mother had forced him to cut his wrist. That was barbaric and cruel. “Are you at the Arena?”
“You know about the meeting?”
“Hmm.”
“Dad didn’t allow me to come. He said Remo Falcone is going to make an example out of one of the traitors in front of the other men. Dad said knowing the Capo, there would be blood, vomit and piss to clean later.”
I shuddered. I’d heard about the brutality of the Falcones but never witnessed it. “I’m baking a cake for Savio so he’ll feel better. I wanted to take it to the Arena.”
Toni was silent for a moment. “Don’t go inside. Just put it on his car, okay?”
“Okay. Since when are you the sensible one?”
“When Savio is concerned I have to be. You lose your head around him.”
The oven beeped. “I’m not losing my head. I have to go now. The cake is done.”
“I mean it, Gemma, be careful today, okay? You think Savio is a cute guy because that’s the side of him you know, but he’s a Falcone and Dad’s been dealing with him for a while now. After what happened yesterday, Savio’s probably still on edge and looking for an outlet. Don’t be that outlet.”
Toni sounded worried, but she really had no reason to. “It’ll be fine. I’ll message you when I get the chance.” I hung up and saved the cake from the oven before it turned too dark.
Once the cake had cooled slightly, I put the slices into the biggest Tupperware container we had and went into the backyard. I grabbed Diego’s old bike and headed out for the Arena. With a little luck, nobody from my family would notice my trip.
The parking lot in front of Roger’s Fight Arena was crowded with cars. There were a few luxury models around, but I didn’t see the copper Bugatti. Savio probably had a new car by now. I parked my bike in front of the entrance then hesitated. I couldn’t leave the container in front of the bar.
I took out my phone and sent Savio another message, telling him that I was in the parking lot.
A scream rang out inside, causing me to back off a few steps and shiver.
“This isn’t a place for you, Kitty.”
I jumped and whirled around. “You almost gave me a heart attack,” I said, pressing a palm to my chest. He must have used the backdoor. Facing Savio, my chest constricted. A bruise bloomed at the top of his head, and his forearms were bandaged, but these obvious injuries didn’t worry me. It was the look in his eyes that was off, a lurking darkness I’d never seen in them before. He wasn’t smiling or smirking, only regarding me with mild curiosity.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Tugging a strand behind my ear, I held out the Tupperware container.
Savio’s eyebrows rose.
“Almond cake,” I said.
He opened the lid and took a deep breath, then he smiled slightly. “Don’t tell me you forced your poor Nonna to bake for me.”
I flushed. “I baked it myself.”
Savio grabbed a piece and took a big bite, then he nodded. “They’re very good. Baking and fighting, you’ll make a man very happy one day.”
“I only want you.”
I hadn’t really just said that, had I? Judging from the brief flash of surprise on Savio’s face, I had. Heat shot into my head. Toni was right. I lost my head when I was around Savio. My heart had been his for years anyway.
Savio closed the container, regarding me in a way I didn’t understand. He leaned down and I held my breath. “No, you don’t, trust me. You’re too young to understand what kind of man I am.”
“I’m not that young,” I said grimly. “I’m fifteen and a half.”
“Fift
een and a half,” he repeated with a strange smile. He straightened and lifted the container. “Thanks for this.” My eyes were drawn to the bandages around his wrists. Blood tinged them red.
“You’re bleeding.”
Savio glanced down at his arm, and his expression darkened. “It’s nothing.” His voice held an edge despite the familiar smirk he gave me. “Now go back home.”
I nodded, backing away. It was obvious that he was suffering, and how could he not, but he wouldn’t talk to me. I’d done what I could. Maybe Diego could get through to him, but given my brother’s lack of empathy, that was unlikely.
Gemma 16, Savio 20
“You’re a life saver,” Toni said, wiping sweat off her brow. “With a fight like that, Dad needs all the support he can get but with the flu making the rounds things have been crazy.”
“Diego had it last week, don’t get me started on how much he whined because of a sore throat and dripping nose. He’s suffered bullet wounds, but he expects me to become his house nurse only because he’s got the flu.”
Toni rolled her eyes. “He’s used to being treated like a pasha because your nonna and mom always do everything for him.”
“It’s how things are handled in our family,” I said with a shrug as I carried a beer crate up the stairs and set it down behind the bar. “They would freak if they knew I was here helping you.”
“I know. But your dad hardly ever sets foot inside the bar. The last time was during that bloody meeting.”
I didn’t want to remember that day when I’d made a fool out of myself. Toni had freaked when I’d told her about the words I’d said to Savio. I only want you.
Maybe it had been a good thing though. I hadn’t seen him since that day six months ago and had time to cool down. Toni had gotten over her crush on my brother, so maybe there was hope for me as well.
I bent down to shove the beer crate farther under the bar.
“But you’d make a lot of tip money with your curves, let me tell you.”
I snorted, peering over my shoulder and finding Toni assessing my butt. “I’m fifteen.”
“Only one more day. And do you really think anyone in the Arena would care? And if we use the right amount of makeup, we could make you look older.”
“Antonia, I’m not going to serve drinks here tonight. You said you only needed me to help you prepare everything.”
She gave me a sheepish smile. “Yeah, well, we’re out of waitresses for tonight. It’s only Cheryl and me. I could really use your help.”
I straightened. “Toni! You know how my family is. If one guy as much as touches my back, they’re going to cut him into pieces. I’m not allowed to be around men, much less in a place like this.” I closed my mouth, worried I’d offended Toni. “Sorry.”
“No,” she said with a small shrug. “I know what the traditional families think of my family and this place. A good girl like yourself shouldn’t be seen around here.”
Now I felt like the worst friend on this planet. I sighed. “All right. But let me work the bar. That’s probably the place where butt-touching is the most difficult, even if that means I won’t get any tips.”
Toni squealed and jumped toward me, drawing me into a tight embrace. She drew back with a grin. “Oh, and you’ll get tips, trust me. Just wear those uber-tight white jeans and that red crop top.”
“I’ve never worn them.”
Toni shook her head. “I know! Which is why you should wear them tonight. You’ve had those clothes for two months, Gemma. With your body, it’s your duty to wear something like that.”
“Explain that to my family,” I muttered with a laugh.
“Come on, you’ve snuck out clothes before. You don’t have the guts to wear those jeans, that’s why you haven’t worn them yet.”
She was right. My upbringing made me uncomfortable in revealing clothes, even if I found them pretty. Nonna’s and Mom’s words had left an impact no matter how often I tried to deny it.
“Okay, okay,” I said. “I just have to figure out a way to sneak out after dinner tonight. I think I could make seven o’clock, is that all right?”
Toni nodded. “Sure, it usually gets really crowded around eight until around one. If you could be there then, that would be amazing.”
“One? Oh, man. If I get caught, Dad’s going to have my head.”
I yawned several times during dinner until Dad took pity on me and allowed me to go to my room so I could go to bed early.
I didn’t have a lock on my door so I had to hope that nobody checked on me. I rebuild the shape of a body with clothes on my bed then covered it with a blanket. My stomach burst with nerves when I checked my reflection. I wore the clothes Toni had suggested, and they showed off all my curves, even my stomach. I’d never shown this much skin and wasn’t sure if I’d feel comfortable wearing them in public.
Putting a denim jacket on, I opened my window then used the tree in front of it to climb down. Diego had been doing this for years, but for me, it was a first. I’d never had reason to sneak out at night because unlike Diego, I didn’t go to parties. Toni’s bike waited in the yard. I grabbed it and rode toward the Arena, trying not to look left and right as I crossed less appealing streets.
I let out a relieved breath when I finally arrived at Roger’s Arena. A few guys smoking outside let out whistles when they spotted me. Ignoring them, I quickly went in through the back entrance like Toni had shown me.
It was almost eight and she sagged with relief when I stepped into the bar area. Her cheeks were flushed. “There you are!”
She, too, was dressed in tight pants and a tight shirt. “Can you take over the bar then I can serve those tables.” She nodded toward two tables where the customers were waving at her with impatient looks.
“Of course,” I said, and then she was already gone. Toni had given me a short introduction to the workings of a bar and tap this afternoon, but I had a feeling I’d mess up anyway. Soon the bar was buzzing, and I didn’t have time for hesitation as I tried to hand out beer after beer.
My first respite happened during the third fight, the first with known fighters. Most guests were focused on the bloody spectacle in the cage. Leaning against the bar, I watched the fight. I’d watched so many of them on screen but had never been allowed to experience one live. It was a different atmosphere. The room buzzed with excitement and blood-thirst. The most brutal fights always drew the biggest crowd, which was why Toni’s dad earned a heap of dollars whenever Remo Falcone had a fight, especially a death fight. It was unheard of that a Capo would risk his life so readily when he didn’t have reason to do so. All the Falcone brothers had a penchant for risking their lives on a frequent basis in the cage. I wondered how I’d feel if I’d ever get the chance to see Savio in the cage.
Toni’s frantic waving caught my attention. She served a table at the other end of the room but obviously needed to get my attention. I straightened and raised my eyebrows. I didn’t understand her crazy sign language. She pointed toward the door. I glanced that way and almost had a heart attack. Savio, Diego, and Mick had entered the Arena. None of them looked toward the bar—yet. And Diego probably wouldn’t anytime soon because he was busy pawing Dakota of all people. Her younger sister Noemi went to my school and we hated each other with the fiery passion of a thousand suns.
I dropped into a crouch, sucking in a deep breath, my heart beating in my throat. What were they doing here? One of the men at the bar gave me a look as if he thought I’d gone crazy. I gave him an embarrassed smile.
“I’d like another beer, young lady.”
I nodded quickly and headed toward the fridge, still ducking my head. I needed to get out of here really quickly. I bent over the fridge as if I needed to get a closer look, hoping that Toni would figure out a way to save the day. Maybe she could throw them out for breaking some house rule.
“I must have gone to Heaven, because this ass isn’t from Earth,” drawled a very familiar voice.
I was
so dead, so very, very dead. If Diego was with Savio, I’d be grounded for eternity. I could already hear Nonna’s disapproving cluck and see Dad’s I’m very disappointed in you look. Mom would probably even shed a few very heart-broken tears.
Maybe I could just stay bent over like this until he lost interest and left? Then another thought hit me like a punch. Savio was hitting on me. Well, on my butt, but that was more than I had hoped for by now. Since our embarrassing first fight training, I’d toned down my crush, and in the last six months, I hadn’t seen him. Giddiness spread in me like a wildfire.
From the corner of my eyes, I could see him coming around the bar. “Just thinking of all the dirty things I could do with that ass makes my—”
I straightened and whirled on him. “Don’t finish that sentence!”
Savio’s expression flashed with shock. Slowly his eyes dragged down my body, lingering on my hips, my stomach, my breasts until he finally looked at my face again—my undoubtedly bright red face. It felt impossibly hot and that wasn’t because of the sticky warm air in the bar.
His expression transformed into anger, which stunned me. I’d expected a joke and teasing like so often in the past. “What the hell are you doing here? Dressed like that?”
I frowned at his demanding tone. He sounded like Diego, as if what I did was his business. Luckily, my brother wasn’t with him, nor was Mick, even though the latter usually defended me when Diego treated me like a stupid kid. A quick scan of the bar didn’t give me any clues about their whereabouts either.
“How does one get a beer around here?” an older man muttered.
“I could shove a bottle down your fucking throat, how about that?” Savio snarled. One look at Savio’s face and the man scurried away.
“I’m supposed to serve beer—”
Savio grabbed my forearm and dragged me away from the bar. Taken by surprise, I stumbled after him. “Savio, what are you doing?”
His grip was like steel, impossible to escape from. He didn’t stop until we were in one of the backrooms and he’d thrown the door shut. Then he got in my face. “Explain.”